#chosson

[becomingfrum]

We had to wait 100 years, but it was perfect! 

Wedding of Emmie and Scott (Esther v’ Yisrael

(there’s more where that came from)

[wenevergotusedtoegypt]

Do you actually love the man you're marrying?

Your question presupposes that the “normal” course of things is that because you love someone, you marry them. That’s how secular dating works: you meet someone, and you like them enough to spend more time with them. You spend more time with them, and you like them more. Eventually you spend long enough together and like each other enough to say you love each other, and because you love each other, you decide it makes sense to make spending time with each other permanent. Hopefully your values line up, but the main thing is that you love each other, and that alone will supposedly carry you through (hint: it often doesn’t).

That isn’t a Jewish concept.

I wanted to get married because being married and building a home and family is inherently valuable in Judaism. In order to do that, I needed to find someone I enjoyed spending time with (yes, that is important, as is physical attraction), but more importantly, who had a similar vision for our shared life together. When my chosson and I each realized after many in-depth conversations that we want the same things out of life and share the same values, that we enjoy spending time with each other, and (implied by the fact that we were still dating, though not explicitly discussed) that we are attracted to each other, we decided to get married so that we can build our life together.

Because he is the man I am going to build my life with, I love him. Because I am the woman he is going to build his life with, he loves me. We are not building a life together because we love each other; we love each other because we are building a life together. Love in the Jewish conception is not something you fall into, but something that is the outcome of giving to each other and growing with each other. I didn’t love him when we got engaged. I do love him now. But only a fraction as much as I will down the road, when we have shared more of our lives together.

But yes, I do actually love him. Impossibly much.

[wenevergotusedtoegypt]

I woke up this morning and last night was real.

[wenevergotusedtoegypt]

I’m standing outside my new apartment (because I can’t go in for yichud purposes) watching my almost-husband fill our bookshelves with boxes and boxes of seforim. I am so completely happy in this moment.

[wenevergotusedtoegypt]

My chosson got my “engagement” ring today 😍

[wenevergotusedtoegypt]

More scattered moments to remember:

When we were standing on a corner talking before parting ways, and he asked if I was crossing the street. I said yes, and he said, “Ok, I’ll cross.” I thought he was confused because he’s still getting to know the area and said, “No, your friend’s house is on this side of the street.” And he said, “Yeah. So I’ll cross,” with a significant look, and walked with me across the street to the entrance of my friend’s building, then turned around and crossed back to the other side.

When we’d been asked to move 1 seat down after kiddush, so I ended up sitting in the seat that was originally his. Halfway through the meal he realized he’d left the napkin he wiped his hand on after making kiddush by my place (which I hadn’t even noticed yet), and wordlessly softly put a clean one in its place.

When he walked me home in the rain even though he didn’t have a raincoat and couldn’t use an umbrella because it was yontiff

When he was learning mishnayos while we waited for one of our meals to start and kept looking up at me from across the room with the softest, warmest look in his eyes every few minutes

When after a while of that he got up, brought the sefer over to me, and asked if I wanted to learn with him (and we did)

How he farbrenged with my friend’s husband in the sukkah until 3am because he knows how important their family is to me and he wants to get to know them davka because of that

The way he softly sings niggunim to himself while waiting for others to wash

The way he bends over a sefer when he’s really concentrating

The way I felt watching him daven through the mechitza - perfectly, fully, serenely happy

The way his face lit up when a hostess complimented my kallah necklace

The way he looks at me. Always the way he looks at me.

[wenevergotusedtoegypt]

Today has...been.

I’ve been procrastinating on figuring out makeup for my wedding because I don’t actually want it. I really don’t. The only reason I had agreed in theory to it was for the sake of the photos. But I don’t actually want it, so it just wasn’t working to motivate myself to investigate when I had so much else to do.

So my mom and my sister took things into their own hands and decided to book an appointment for me at Sephora, my sister would take notes, and she or my mom will do my makeup the day of.

Honestly, I hate Sephora. I hate everything about it. I was immediately on edge as soon as we walked in. I told the woman who helped us that I wanted as little makeup on my face as possible and not to look like I was wearing makeup. Somehow that still translated to literally 20+ products. WTH. I’d be terrified to see the amount if someone wanted a lot of makeup that would be obvious. Visually the finished result was less garish than I anticipated, but still not what I asked for, and physically there was so much stuff on my face. My sister narrowed it down to 8 products to actually buy.....which was still over $300 freaking dollars. Which my parents are paying for, but it’s the principle of the matter. 

As I was en route home my chosson asked where I was holding, because he was running wedding errands and we had plans to meet when I got back. I told him I was on my way and just needed to get home and wash this stuff off my face and then I’d be ready. As I was walking into my apartment he responded, “Noooo lol,” immediately followed by, “Whatever you want lol,” and then, “Have I even seen you with makeup? Just curious.” I knew he didn’t mean anything by it, I mean, he even said he had no idea if he’d seen me wear makeup before, so it’s very clear he didn’t mean anything, but I burst into tears. Then had to get myself together because I knew he didn’t mean anything by it, and it wasn’t really what he’d said that I was crying about, and I didn’t feel like I could explain why I was so upset, but I didn’t want to keep him waiting. I did though, probably like a half hour longer than it would have been otherwise before I felt confident it didn’t look like I’d been crying. And even after thoroughly cleaning my face before and after the tears, I could (and can, 7 hours later) still feel stuff on my face from the makeup.

The topic (of makeup, not what he’d said) came up at dinner and he could tell I was upset about it, but I just couldn’t adequately explain it. I feel like there are so many layers here that even I don’t completely understand it. I was grumpy about the whole thing going in, but I really didn’t expect to feel this emotional about it. He was great about it though, and said I don’t need to explain, and that he won’t bring up makeup again. I said that maybe at some point I would figure out how to explain better. He reiterated that I didn’t have to, unless I want to, and told me that it doesn’t matter anyway because “you’re more beautiful already than any makeup could ever make you.” Which last part he sort of had to say, but I also believed him.

I guess I just feel like makeup has always been pressed upon me in a negative context. By well-meaning people pressuring me into makeovers and squealing over how good I look afterwards, when really I don’t feel like I’m even looking at myself in the mirror. By my insecure young teen self, feeling like maybe if I caved into that pressure somehow I’d feel less awkward, be less weird, be noticed by crushes. By my confused, hurting 20s-something self who was completely unexpectedly suddenly dumped by a promising shidduch who couldn’t give a reason to the shadchan, wavering on the edge of caving to the people who had told me I had to wear makeup to find a husband, even though I didn’t want to believe them (and didn’t need to, because I found him without it).

Any even slight temptation to wear makeup has always come at some of my lowest, most vulnerable times. So even though in this case I’d be wearing it purely to cater to photo lighting, and not because of needing it to look prettier, bringing it into the picture taps into everything that is vulnerable in me. It dredges up all the negative feelings from all those situations. And it brings those feelings into the present. The nagging voice in my head telling me that if my chosson sees me in makeup, maybe he won’t like me as much without it anymore, but I can’t commit the time or effort or money to keep it up, and he’ll always wish that I would. Being around him, and seeing how he looks at me, and hearing his compliments, makes me feel more beautiful and confident than I ever have in my entire life. But you bring this ludicrously expensive narishkeit into the picture and suddenly it’s all gone.

And it’s also the sheer number of times I’ve heard perfectly nice-looking women claim seriously that they can’t leave the house without covering up their faces in creams and powders, and talk about themselves in such negative ways. Spend who knows how much money and time figuring out how to keep this stuff on their faces over Shabbos and yontiff, and not fully enjoying those because their “ugliness” isn’t adequately covered. Even knowing that in this situation I’m wearing makeup not because I am ugly without it, or because I can’t leave the house without it, but because lighting works a certain way for photos, I can’t disassociate from all that negativity.

I hate makeup and I hate that society has put me in a position where something this stupid can make me feel this sad.

[wenevergotusedtoegypt]

Last night I mentioned to my chosson that it’s going to be an adjustment living with someone who has to daven with a minyan, and he said very seriously, “Yeah, but also, you have to tell me when I can’t. If you need my help at home, then it’s my job to be there.” I’ve heard of so many women in Facebook groups and such who either don’t have any concept of that and are super stressed out about their husbands going to minyan at certain times when they need help, or do have such a concept but had to get a rabbi to tell them/their husband that in order for it to sink in. Here we’re not even married yet and he’s offering it up himself, without prompting (and it’s not because he’s trying to get out of davening with a minyan...he’s very serious about it). Wow did I pick a good one. 😍