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The inspiration for today’s topic came when I was reading the label on a package of mini Oreos (which I may or may not be addicted to), and it said: Made with Real Cocoa. As if that will negate all the calories I am eating. It got me thinking about all the different claims we read on packages. If something sounds official, we believe it. Let’s see if that is wise. We’ve all fallen for it. At the supermarket, as you walk

So, if depth in a relationship isn’t about being an intellectual genius, what is it?

Real depth isn’t academic, it’s relational. It is all about how you treat each other when things get tough.

Have you ever overheard a stranger’s conversation and couldn’t stop thinking about it? That happened to me last week. The Scene I was in Barnes & Noble café last week, working, when I overheard a conversation between a mother and her young daughter. The daughter wanted the mother to buy her a book that cost $20. The mother kept trying to explain that she didn’t have enough money. She calmly told the daughter she only had $9 on her card

Just Fine is Not a Sign The hardest shidduchim to deal with are the ones that are just fine. The good ones are a no-brainer. You keep going out. Happily. The bad ones give you a reason to say no. You have something concrete to tell your mother when you get home, and an explanation for the shadchan when you call her to end it. The “ just fine” ones are the problem. You weren’t watching the clock, or necessarily relieved when

My phone buzzes with an unknown number. “hi im ready to get married i like learning and sports send me ideas” That is the text that prompted this article. You can’t make this stuff up… Reaching out to a shadchan sounds like the simplest part of the shidduch process. You hear a name, get their number, send a text, and then wait to hear back. In practice, it’s where a lot of people tank their first impression before the shadchan

Half-caf, cream, no sugar. That is my usual coffee order, and whenever I say it, I chuckle to myself. Half-caf sounds like a Dr. Seuss word that was too silly even for him.  It has just enough caffeine to wake me up, but not enough to make my heart race. Enough to make me alert, but not too alert. Functional, but not too functional. It’s the beverage equivalent of straddling a doorway, unsure whether you should go in or out. Neither Here nor There Half‑caf is having one foot

In preparation for an upcoming workshop I am giving, I watched a recording of a previous talk I gave on this topic. I cringed the entire time. Is that how people see me?! Is that what I sound like?! I found a hundred things to hate — my tone of voice (Do I talk too loudly?), the moments I rambled, the way I should have stood straighter, the joke I should have cut, the answer I wish I’d given instead.

There’s a part of the Purim playlist where everyone starts singing along — v’nahafoch, v’nahafoch, v’nahafochu. We jump, we clap, we shout gleefully about turning everything upside down. Meanwhile, most of our lives are very right-side-up. Very normal. Very let’s just do what everyone else seems to be doing and call it a day. One day a year, we turn things upside down. The rest of the year proves why we need to. In the 1970s, millions of people bought pet rocks. A

I am writing this week’s newsletter from a rented Airbnb in Atlanta. With all that has been going on in my life, I needed some time away so I can recalibrate and find my way again. In her famous Ted talk, Anne Lammott said, “Almost anything will work again if you turn it off. Including you.” Hope has been on my mind a lot lately. I write about hope often, more than other topics because it is the thing underneath

If you read the Mishpacha magazine, you’ve probably seen the comic strip The Kichels by Bracha Stein and Chani Judowitz. If you haven’t, you should. This week’s made me chuckle. The basic gist of it is, a group of young boys walk into a Beis Horaah (for those that don’t know – it is a place where people bring halachic questions to a Rav) with what they believe are very serious halachic questions. One wants to know whether he can

There are times when life forces you into a bubble. In the bubble, regular life fades into the background. Work becomes something you can’t even think about. Plans stop mattering. The usual worries don’t fit in your head anymore. Your brain will not let you hold anything except the one thing that’s consuming your life right now. It’s like your mind becomes a one-room house. Nothing else matters. Sometimes the bubble is made of joy. A wedding. A new baby.

I could open a bookstore with the number of books I have. Every new book that comes out, I say to myself, “I need that one.” Every book on psychology, parenting, dating, marriage, life and every self-help concept, idea and topic, I own it. I know all the latest theories and perspectives. So, the question is, if I read so much, why was I feeling so down on myself? Why did I feel like I’m the worst spouse, mother, friend,

I recently rewrote a text about fifteen times before sending it. The text was: “Sounds good, thanks.” Three words. And I was editing it like it was a press release. Does it sound cold? Should I add an emoji? Is “thanks” weird? Will they think I’m being sarcastic? I was completely overthinking an insignificant text because I was worried about what the recipient would think. After fifteen revisions, I finally asked myself: Miriam, what are you doing? And I didn’t

You can want something with every fiber of your being and still not believe it’s actually coming. You can daven for marriage, cry for it, ache for it – and still not believe that it’s going to happen for you. That’s the gap. Wanting and believing. And it’s where many singles live. So, I’m not going to tell you, “It’ll happen when you least expect it.” I’m not going to tell you about my neighbor’s daughter who dated for fourteen years and now has six kids. I’m not

Life, if you think about it, is one long decision marathon. It starts first thing in the morning: hit snooze or be that responsible, on-time person you keep promising to become? Wear the black skirt… or the other black skirt? Eat breakfast or “accidentally” live on coffee again? At the supermarket, there are so many choices — Cheerios or corn flakes, Heinz or Hunt’s, Barilla or Ronzoni, aisle 4 or aisle 7? And of course, whichever line you choose, the other one will

My grandson said the cutest thing the other day. And not the usual “kids say funny things” kind of cute – I mean peak adorable. I asked him, “What are you going to get when you have your upsherin?” Without missing a beat, he said, “I’ll get a yarmulka, tzitzis, and a beard.” I burst out laughing. To him, of course, that made perfect sense. Every man in his life wears a yarmulka, tzitzis, AND has a beard. So naturally, they must be a

Most people think fight, flight, freeze, and fawn only happen in moments of real danger, but these reactions are triggered by feeling unsafe. For some, dating can feel that way, because emotional risk can trigger the same alarms as physical threat. It’s all the conflicting emotions. It’s the uncertainty. It’s the fear of being hurt or the panic of getting it wrong. So our bodies do what they’re trained to do: they protect us. Some daters go into fight mode — testing, analyzing, looking for red

What if the reason your dates keep failing has nothing to do with the other person? What if the biggest rejection in dating isn’t from other people, it’s the rejection you do to yourself before they ever meet you? Does this scenario sound familiar?  You’re on a date. They ask about your week. You answer with something short. They ask a follow-up question. You give another brief response. In your head, you’re screening every possible thing you could say, rejecting

I love when I take my own advice. For nearly two years, I lived and breathed my book, Finding Forever. My brain had one channel: book mode. I’d lose track of conversations as I mentally restructured sections, wake up at 3 AM with new chapter ideas, and write, rewrite, and rewrite again each paragraph, section, and chapter. Then came editing, cover design, marketing… and finally, there it was. My book. On shelves. Out in the world. And just like that, the one thing

It’s that time of year again. The day before Yom Kippur, and the words and melody of Kol Nidrei, so haunting and familiar, are ringing in my ears. The holiest day of the year begins with us asking to be released from our vows, from all the promises we made this past year. And as we stand there, we think about all the promises made and broken. Last Yom Kippur, we meant it. Every word of it. We were going