Dancing While I Wait

Dear IYH,

Another Simchas Torah has come and gone. For many people, it was a beautiful Yom Tov filled with dancing, family, children, laughter, and the unique joy that comes from celebrating Torah together. For me, as a frum single, it was also beautiful – but in a different way.

Being single during Yom Tov can sometimes highlight what is missing. There are moments when you look around shul and notice the married people, the families, the children dancing beside their parents, and the empty space where you imagined your own family would one day be. Simchas Torah, with all its excitement and togetherness, can make those feelings even stronger.

But this year, I realized something. Perhaps being single on Simchas Torah has taught me more than I ever expected.

I learned that happiness does not have to wait until life looks exactly the way I want it to.

It is very easy to fall into the mindset of “When I get married, then I will truly be happy. When I have children, then Yom Tov will feel complete. When I have my own home and family, then I will finally experience the joy everyone else seems to have.”

But Simchas Torah reminded me that there is so much simcha available right now. I may not have the family I dream about yet, but I have a family of Klal Yisrael. I have my friends. I have my shul. I have people who care about me. I have the Torah.

And I consider myself privileged to dance with a Sefer Torah.

There is something incredibly powerful about standing in a shul surrounded by Jews of all ages and stages of life, all dancing for the same reason. For a few moments, nobody's marital status matters. Nobody is asking who is married, who is dating, who has children, or who is still waiting. We are simply Jews celebrating the greatest gift we have been given.

I also learned not to compare my journey to somebody else's.

That is probably one of the hardest lessons for any single person. It is so easy to look around and think, “Why does everyone else have what I want?” But this year, I tried to remind myself that I am seeing only a small part of someone else's story.

Every person has challenges that are invisible to everyone else. Marriage does not mean a person has no struggles, just as being single does not mean a person cannot experience tremendous joy.

My life may not be following the timeline I imagined, but that does not mean it is going in the wrong direction.

I learned gratitude, too.

Being single has given me opportunities that I might not always appreciate. I can be there for friends and family. I can help others. I can spend time learning, growing, volunteering, and discovering who I am. I have the freedom to develop myself and build relationships that will hopefully make me a better spouse and parent when that time comes.

Most importantly, I learned that waiting does not have to mean standing still.

There is a difference between waiting for something and living while you wait for it.

I can daven for marriage and still appreciate today. I can hope for my future family without forgetting the people who are already part of my life. I can acknowledge that being single is sometimes painful without allowing that pain to define me.

Perhaps that is one of the greatest gifts Simchas Torah gave me this year: the ability to hold two feelings at the same time.

I can be longing for something deeply and still be grateful for what I have.

I can have moments of sadness and still dance.

I can wonder when my turn will come and still believe that my life has meaning today.

As I watched the Torahs being carried around the shul, I thought about how every Jew has a unique letter in the Torah. Each letter is essential. Some letters are large, some small. Some appear frequently, while others appear only once. Yet every letter has its place.

Maybe people are the same.

We each have our own timing, our own journey, and our own role. My story may look different from the person standing next to me, but that does not make it less meaningful.

So yes, another Simchas Torah passed with me still single.

But I am choosing not to describe it as another Simchas Torah that I “missed.”

I was there.

I danced, sang, celebrated, laughed, and davened. And, most importantly, I felt part of something much bigger than myself.

I am still waiting for the day when I will dance with my own children. I hope and pray that day comes soon.

But until then, I refuse to put my life on hold.

There is still so much to celebrate.

And perhaps that is what this Simchas Torah taught me most of all: I don't have to wait for my future to arrive before I can be grateful for my present.

Sincerely,
A Grateful Frum Single