People who follow this blog or my column and reactions to both already know that I have an issue with people who are too picky (even though there are others who think that I myself, as representative of all Upper West Side singles, am too picky, which is another conversation).

But I wanted to share this letter that went to the Jewish Press from a lonely, 37-year-old religious single woman who wants to get married, but found herself dating a man she describes as “a nerd” to whom she “can’t relate romantically.”

There’s more to it that that. Reading it will reveal some of the problems that many of us have noticed about the (let’s call it “moderately observant”) Jewish singles world: shadchanim (matchmakers) who operate through what they’d consider “tough love” but which hurts singles tremendously by criticizing personal appearance; men who date but are reluctant to commit; a posse of friends that becomes family and may in fact hinder progress toward finding a partner; the power problem when a woman’s profession makes a man feel threatened; the challenge of looking at a person in totality as opposed to just on a superficial level; the specter of a previous relationship tainting future romantic expectations; a ticking biological clock; an acknowledgment of one’s own flaws and perhaps a hesitation to accept the flaws of others; whether religious shidduchim operate on a different level than those that aren’t Orthodox; communal pressure both in the US and in Israel to have children to increase Jewish demographics, etc…enough to fuel years of singles columns in multiple newspapers.

This letter, however, is not the only such letter that column has received. In fact, it was written in response to a similar letter, also printed by the Jewish Press and written by a 36 year old woman who was faced with a choice: marry someone you don’t love but have children or stay single and childless forever. (Because those are apparently the only two choices.)

The resulting rebbetzin’s response:

You have to consider that you are now 36 years old. Your biological clock is ticking away and you have a small window of opportunity to marry and bring children into this world. I would not, G-d forbid want to receive a letter from you five years hence saying, “Rebbetzin, I should have married him. I’m so lonely. I want so desperately to have children.”

I can’t begin to tell you how many single people have sounded that lament. It is wonderful that you are devoted to your nieces and nephews, but at the end of the day, you want to have your own children. You not only want to be an aunt…you want to be a mommy.

So ask yourself these questions: 1) Will this man be a good father to my children? Once you have children, they become your primary concern. 2) Is this man someone whom I can respect? If there is respect, love will follow, but if there is love without respect, then disdain follows. 3) Does this man share my aspirations for life? Does he have the same beliefs that I do? Does he want to raise our children in the same spirit as I do? 4) Is he good-hearted? Is he kind and considerate? (I always tell singles that even the most handsome face, the most brilliant mind and the wittiest personality can become repulsive overnight if he is not good-hearted.)

From your letter it seems to me that the answers to these questions are a resounding yes. So, unless there is something that you did not communicate in your letter, I would recommend that you move ahead and with mazel and brachah establish your own home and raise a beautiful family of Torah children.

This response makes me uneasy, for so many reasons, but primarily because I think this “marry someone even if you don’t love him just so you can have children and be like everyone else/save the Jewish people” thing is colossally bad advice. I have friends who have married and are now bitterly divorced, engaged in awful custody battles. I have friends who try everything, and yet remain single year after year, watching their nieces and nephews grow into mini-adults, as the clock keeps ticking and the Jewish communal world keeps pushing. I know women who have lowered their standards to permit them to date outside the faith, because “when you reach a certain point, all that really matters is love.” I know women who have tired of waiting for a life-partner and have pushed ahead into motherhood, flying solo; and I know many other women who don’t have the money or the personal strength to do that. Or maybe they’re just afraid or reluctant to announce to the world: “This dating thing? I’m done.”

My brain gets all jumbled when I think of “marry anyone or be alone forever” as my only two options. I don’t expect Hollywood style fireworks or romantic magic at every turn (although I still may be extremely happy if I get them). I don’t have a preconceived notion of who he is or what he looks like. He might be–and in all likelihood, will be–a nerd. But I’d like to think that I’ll at least have love for the man to whose future I would bind my own. And I would hope that all my single sisters will as well.