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 going to tell you to just relax and trust the process.
You’ve heard all that. None of it bridges the gap.
The Distance Between Wanting and Believing
It is Chanukah — a time when we’re literally surrounded by a story built on the gap between what we wanted and what we dared to believe. The Maccabim desperately wanted victory, wanted light, wanted a future — but wanting wasn’t what changed anything. It was believing enough to act when the odds made no sense.
You want it – but do you believe it will happen? Do you believe – in your gut, in your bones – that marriage is going to happen to you? With your history. With your track record. With everything you’ve been through.
Wanting and believing are two completely different things. You can want something so badly it keeps you up at night and still not believe it’s ever going to be yours. Most people aren’t struggling with wanting. They’re struggling with believing.
Years that keep passing with nothing doing, dates that go nowhere, and “it’s not a match” on repeat can wear down your belief. Everyone tells you the same things: “Your time will come.” “It happens when you least expect it.” “Just keep davening.” “My daughter’s friend dated for twelve years and then met her husband at a vort!”
Great. Fantastic. Very helpful.
When you hear such comments, you smile, you nod, and you resist the urge to say something you’ll need to do teshuvah for later. But inside, there’s a voice that’s stronger and more persistent than all those platitudes: What if it will never happen to me?
You feel when other people have stopped believing, too. Parents who sigh every time they look at you. Shadchanim whose voices have less energy than they used to. That one aunt who’s moved on from “So, anyone special?” to “You know, not everyone has to get married.” Thanks, Tante Rivky. Really appreciate that vote of confidence.
You sense the shift, and it’s contagious. Their doubt seeps into yours, and then your own voice joins the chorus. You’ve got a story about yourself that you’ve been rehearsing for years. “I always attract the wrong type.” “I’m too picky.” “I’m not picky enough.” “Something’s broken in me.” “I have a neon sign on my forehead that only weirdos can see.” You repeat it so often it starts sounding like a fact.
Believe First
Most of us wait for evidence before we let ourselves believe. We want proof first. A sign. A great date. Some momentum. Something that says, “See, it’s happening.” But that’s not how belief works. You don’t get the evidence and then believe. You believe, and then the evidence comes. Believing isn’t the reward for getting the thing – it’s the prerequisite.
Chanukah is literally the blueprint for this. The oil didn’t last eight days, and then they believed. They believed enough to light it, and then it lasted eight days.
Going through the motions
You’re showing up. You’re saying yes to another name, another resume, another “I have someone for you.” But doing and believing aren’t the same. The Maccabim didn’t just light the oil and hope for the best. They believed it would last.
What’s running through your mind while you’re listening to another shadchan pitch, getting dressed for another date, or making small talk over another cup of coffee?
“Here we go again. Probably won’t go anywhere. But fine, I’ll try.”
Your brain is building a case in the background. Every year that passes, every engagement that isn’t yours, every first date that didn’t become a second, it files it all away, and the verdict is always the same: See? It’s not going to happen for me. You’re basically arguing against yourself. And winning. Which is actually losing.
Belief changes how you show up. You may be doing all the same things, but the energy changes. People who believe let a bad date just be a bad date – not proof that Hashem forgot their file somewhere.
On the other hand, people who have stopped believing – even if they haven’t admitted it to themselves – date defensively. They show up in full emotional hazmat gear. They’re half-checked out even before they get in the car, because checked out feels safer than hopeful.
Belief in the Face of Ridiculous Odds
Think about it. The Maccabim were a tiny group going against an empire. By every logical measure, they should have lost. The odds were absurd. They fought anyway. They believed anyway. What would have happened if they waited until the numbers made sense?
Belief that’s never been tested isn’t belief. It’s a theory. Real belief is not pretending away the hard parts with a big fake smile and a “Baruch Hashem, everything is amazing!” It’s not pretending the pain isn’t real, or the wait isn’t long. It is choosing to believe anyway.
You’ve been burned and let down so many times, you’ve started to think that hoping is foolish – something for people who haven’t been through what you’ve been through. You’ve decided that keeping your expectations low is the smart thing to do. But low expectations aren’t protection. They’re just pre-emptive disappointment. You’re living the letdown in advance. Which, if you think about it, is a terrible deal – you get all of the pain and none of the hope. Believing is a better way to live than bracing for impact.
Build a Case for Why It Can Happen
Belief is hard. You might feel solid one week and completely hopeless the next, and then you feel like a bigger failure. But that’s being human. You’re allowed to have hard days. You’re allowed to cry in your car after another disappointing date. (Waterproof mascara exists for a reason.)
At some point, though, you have to decide: Am I going to keep collecting evidence for why it won’t happen? Or am I going to start building a case for why it can? You’ve already spent years on the first one. You’ve been very thorough. Maybe it’s time to switch sides. Fire yourself. Hire a new lawyer. One who’s actually on your side.
Belief, Built Night by Night
We light one candle the first night. Then two. Then three. We don’t start with all eight blazing. We build it, night by night.
Belief works the same way. You don’t have to believe all at once. You don’t have to go from doubt to certainty overnight. You just have to light tonight’s candle. Tomorrow, you add another.
Dovid HaMelech said, “He’emanti ki adaber” – I believed because I spoke. The speaking came first. The belief followed. Sometimes you have to say it before you feel it.
So, the question isn’t whether you want it; it’s whether you believe before you see evidence that it will happen.
