Everything fits, but there is no love, no click, no emotional connection yet. Can I move forward?different viewsask your rav

She denies that there is a universal number of dates by which everyone must feel something. In her approach people open up at different speeds, and what matters is to assess yourself honestly without comparing the length of your process with anyone else's. Yossi told her that Tovi was a good person but that he did not feel it, and that he needed a sense of closeness. She objected that connection does not arise on its own; it has to be made, and she asked whether he had told Tovi anything at all of the kind one tells only a close friend. He had stayed on the surface. On the next date he spoke about his long-standing struggle with self-esteem; Tovi responded with warmth and opened up in turn, and after a few more dates Yossi said the connection had finally appeared. She adds a separate proviso: this is not about marrying someone you are not attracted to. It is about not writing people off too fast and letting a relationship develop, even if the person looks different from what you pictured. Having a picture is normal; the trouble is when a narrow picture stops you seeing the person in front of you. In her story Rochie was not attracted to Avi's looks, but after his calm reaction to a danger on the road she felt the attractiveness of the real person and a sense of safety beside him. For a neutral feeling she suggests a new setting, an activity both enjoy, attention to the other person's smile and to what makes them happy, and a reasonable amount of time. Among her techniques is slightly longer eye contact during an important conversation. At the same time she stresses that feelings should not be forced: if after an honest effort everything remains neutral, you can acknowledge that this is not your match. The shadchan's insistence in the story does not turn this private outcome into an obligation to continue against your own decision.

“There's no universal timeline or magic number of dates”

After one or two meetings with no clear feeling, the Rebbe suggests meeting again to gain clarity. In a letter about seven meetings he likewise gives no rigid rule but stresses the need for at least a minimal mutual attraction. He advises watching for a change in one's feelings, comparing the alternatives, and imagining one's reaction if the other side were to break off the acquaintance. In practical terms, in that case he suggests at least one more meeting. In matters of shidduchim, when the candidate in both proposals is G-d-fearing, there is room to decide by the heart's inclination, in the words of the Torah, let us ask her. And in our generation, where conduct is not what it was in earlier generations, there must be at least the beginning of attraction. In several replies the Rebbe suggests not making a final decision when feelings are entirely absent, and choosing, according to the person's character, either further meetings or a temporary pause. In the case of two dates he advises meeting once more; after seven meetings he likewise suggests checking whether a change appears. In one letter he stresses the need for at least the beginning of mutual attraction in the present generations. The benchmark is the change in one's attitude from the first meeting to the last, not the same number of dates for everyone. Other tests he proposes are to compare one's feelings about different proposals and to imagine one's reaction if the present other side began to withdraw. In these replies a merely rational match is not enough: to conclude a shidduch the Rebbe requires an inner feeling and connection. He explains this by the need for the future home to be united not only on the level of reason but on the level of emotion. If there are no feelings at all, he suggests waiting with the decision; the appearance of warmth is seen as a possible step toward the wedding.

In the reply handed down, he says that emotional attraction before the engagement is not required: in his words, feelings grow strong after the wedding. The key to the decision, he says, is compatibility, and before the engagement, the awareness of fulfilling a great mitzvah. This is his brief answer, without detailed criteria of compatibility. He gives no grounds for forcing anyone to continue dating or to marry. To a young man who said the girl was not unpleasant to him but that he feared he would always think he could have found someone prettier, he answered: if you feel that her looks will weigh on you in the long run, you should not marry. Then he smiled and added that the Torah commands taking a beautiful esrog, hadar, for the arba minim, but nowhere does it say that hadar is required in a wife. That is, one must be at peace with a wife's looks, but must not overrate them.

“In deciding whether to move ahead, the key is to determine compatibility.”

In the words Shana Kramer cites, he suggests not waiting for romantic bells. If nothing bad has been found and being together is pleasant, the absence of great excitement does not mean the acquaintance is a failure. This benchmark, as presented, concerns early expectations of a relationship.

Ratner believes attraction can grow together with emotional and intellectual acquaintance, if the person is pleasant on the whole. At the same time he writes that if after several attempts no infatuation arises, it is probably not worth continuing to date; he distinguishes that initial infatuation from deep love. If the looks remain a serious obstacle, the wedding, he says, is no guarantee of change. He leaves the decision to the couple themselves: other people's assessment of attractiveness does not replace one's own feeling. Consent to continue dating and to marry must remain free.

“It's the confusion between infatuation and love that causes many relationships to fail.”

If a couple feel fondness but do not feel love on their dates, that in itself is no reason to give up on the marriage, provided all the positive factors are present. Love will follow: in the words of Chazal, true attraction develops after the wedding.

“True attraction develops after the wedding.”

He answers the opposite way and without reservations: marriage is a relationship, and a relationship is an emotional connection. Someone who marries without being able to connect with another person locks the spouse inside a black cloud that takes enormous effort to break through. A marriage without emotion he calls a dead marriage, and advises not to let it reach an engagement. He also looks at it from the other side: growing attraction is a good sign that the relationship is heading the right way. If it does not appear, he advises neither brushing it aside nor pushing yourself, but turning to a competent dating coach to check whether something essential, emotional attraction and compatibility, is missing from the relationship. Often, in his observation, the feeling of not being attracted is not about looks at all: the person reads an emotional gap as physical dislike. One cannot rely on being in love; that is a fantasy. Strong feelings and infatuation are not love: the root of the word ahavah is hav, to give, and real love is born only of unconditional giving, which begins after the wedding. What is called love before marriage is most often the pleasure of how the other person makes you feel, that is, love of oneself. On a date one should feel not infatuation but safety and trust, a completely different feeling. Attraction is a must; he refers to Kiddushin 41a. But it does not mean conformity to accepted standards of beauty: what matters is that the person be attractive to you. Each side must be comfortable with the other, and the emotional closeness must grow to the point where you can imagine wanting physical closeness.

“If you do not connect emotionally during the dating process, do not get engaged!”

He regards some click between the two as a point that cannot be skipped, and immediately qualifies that he is speaking of the Litvish world; among chassidim it may be different. He does not require love at first sight: what is needed is a feeling toward the other person, that you are at ease together and look forward to the next meeting. That is enough; one need not wait for a flood of emotion, which comes after the wedding. He does not know where the common saying comes from that it does not matter what you feel now, after the wedding it will all work out, but he says plainly that, unfortunately, it is not true. Feelings do not arrive by themselves after the wedding; instead, the couple arrives at his door. He has a test of his own: when a young man says he feels nothing, he tells him to break off the shidduch at once, and the usual reaction is, how can I break it off, she is a good girl and a very pleasant person; then the rav answers, mazel tov, you can marry her. Often it turns out that the problem was one's own fantasies and expectations, against which everything seems bland. But if there is no click at all, then it is categorically no, and one should not let oneself be talked into it with words about after the wedding. He honestly adds that even in such a situation there are cases with a good outcome.

“You should expect to feel some kind of 'click'—some kind of feeling toward the other side.”

They strip the feeling of comfort of its role as an indicator: comfortableness is a function of time, shared experiences and simply getting used to someone; it comes to different people differently and says nothing about whether this is your bashert. There are many couples who felt completely at ease only a year or two into marriage. A lack of comfort they suggest reading not as a red flag but as a reminder that the relationship needs time. They advise against snap decisions: gather information, assess the date, and discuss your doubts with parents, a rav, a rebbetzin or someone else you trust. Do not undermine yourself by clinging to things that have no bearing on long-term happiness. If the person matches on many points, if you have similar life goals and outlooks, they advise outright forcing yourself to continue dating even when there are no sparks. More than once they have seen someone feel sick at the thought of another date, and it turned out to be simply the nerves of having found one's bashert. A caution: after seven months of work, a man was found who matched almost everything on Chaya's list: he respected her, treated her like a queen, wanted children right away, people spoke very highly of his menschlichkeit, and his family was ready to accept her as their own. And then: I am not attracted to him. The authors' answer was: of course you are not, he is the first person who treats you well and you are not used to it; let yourself feel the love he gives, and do not let him go without a fight, and a therapist can help with that. They do not dispute the requirement of attraction itself, but they ask a counter-question: what if you are attracted only to those who treat you as if you were nothing, as your father once did? There will be no sudden movie magic. Chaya nevertheless called her rav, who agreed that one should not marry someone one is not attracted to, and that was enough for her: she called off the shidduch, and four years later she is still calling for dating advice. One thing is worth knowing about this argument: in her entire practice she has never once managed to change the mind of someone who had already decided there was no attraction. That is exactly why it has become the perfect screen: it cannot be argued with, it cannot be checked, and it closes the conversation about the real reasons for the refusal. That is useful to remember when this argument comes from your own lips.

“Comfortableness is a function of time, shared experiences, and often even getting used to”

He looks not at the person but at how the process is set up. Many manage to build a warm relationship in a short time, but many cannot, and they are neither at fault nor fussy: where meetings are held only for tachlis, a person cannot gather enough positive feeling for the decision to come easily, and such people admit that more than once they parted from a suitable person for exactly this reason. Psychologists say that an inability to decide sometimes betrays deeper problems, and at times that is so; but his own experience says that the trouble is often not personal but institutional.

“the problem is often not personal but institutional”

A refusal with the words I feel no love and no attraction he calls a grave mistake, the opposite of the Torah's view. The Torah, he says, speaks clearly: love comes after the wedding; Yitzchak brought Rivka into Sarah's tent, took her as his wife, and only then is it said that he loved her. Therefore such feelings should not be the measure of a shidduch's suitability. He adds the other side as well: the attempt to feel one's way to attraction through many meetings and long conversations fills the head with forbidden thoughts, and he asks whether the Shechinah can dwell in a home built on such a foundation. Both editions carry the author's one argument from the order of the words about the marriage of Yitzchak and Rivka: first she became his wife, then it is said that he loved her. On this basis the author objects to expecting love before the decision. His categorical wording represents his reading of the Torah's lesson, not an agreed position of all the authorities cited.

“The Torah approach to marriage is that love comes only after marriage.”

In the same connection his words are cited that what people call love belongs, for him, among the things one gives one's life for rather than transgresses. This was said in another generation and in his own milieu: it is a sharp judgement on the usage of that time, not a ready instruction for what to do in your case today.

In a letter to a girl who had been refusing for years, he writes that many reject proposal after proposal, saying that they feel no attraction and that this is not what they are looking for, and most often these are intelligent, educated girls. Experience, he says, shows that they regret it later: the charm of youth fades with the years, and when they are finally ready, the other side is no longer ready, and a long, heavy sadness follows. He adds what he considers the main point: what attracts and interests one in a chassan before the wedding disappears completely soon after the wedding, and in its place grows a closeness and love of an entirely different kind, born of shared life and shared concerns. This is a letter to a specific person, written in the language of its generation, as a stern judgement rather than a yardstick for every case.

“what attracts and interests one in her chassan before the wedding disappears completely soon after the wedding”

After three dates Chani wanted to stop: she found nothing wrong with Shmuel, but he was clearly taken with her while she felt no response in herself, and she was afraid of hurting him more later. Her mother objected that precisely this fear of leading him on was keeping her from being attentive and responsive to his interest, and so from letting a connection arise; and that there is no greater cruelty than to keep a person from marrying the one who may be meant for him. The advice was simple: answer warmth with warmth. The fourth date was the turning point.

“But the possible gain to him is worth the possible pain.”

She gives a definition she once heard and adopted: to love someone is not just a strong feeling; it is a decision, a judgement and a promise. Hence her approach to choosing a partner: not as an impulse, but as a decision that one makes and keeps.

“to love someone is not just a strong feeling. It is a decision. It is a judgment. It is a promise.”

He observes that a man and a woman sense the rightness of a shidduch differently: a man usually experiences separate, discrete moments of that feeling, while a woman experiences a general feeling of dynamic potential, a sense that the shidduch is well rooted. The difference is natural, and one need not expect the other side to experience it one's own way.

“a woman will experience a general feeling of dynamic potential”

A click is not required. Shared goals and values, mutual respect and admiration, good communication, physical attraction and enjoyment of each other's company are quite enough for a wonderful marriage. Such a relationship is less intense at first than one chosen on impulse, but it can be every bit as good, and possibly easier. Attraction matters, but it need not appear at once: do not reject someone quickly over looks if the person does not repel you. Ask yourself whether there are moments when he looks more attractive, and whether anything can be done with some of that. Do not measure by an invented type; a spouse may turn out quite unlike the one you imagined. Personal and emotional attraction also take time: at this stage nobody is yet showing their real self.

“it can be every bit as good, and possibly easier”

A practical rule: if the person's looks do not repel you and the negative feelings are slowly weakening from date to date, continue. As long as his looks are getting better for you, even if they do not yet please you, it makes sense to keep trying: physical attraction often develops along with the emotional connection. This is the most common reason for breaking off a relationship that has barely begun, and it does not hold up: after a few dates you do not need to see yourself married to this person, and nobody really knows whom they are marrying until they marry. If nothing is wrong, that in itself means it is going somewhere. A caution: a girl who had come to Yerushalayim, faced with a choice between a third to fifth date with a good man and the bother of changing her ticket, left on the scheduled day, since it was not going anywhere anyway. By her actions she said that the dates were not her priority; that is her right, but toward a man who was giving his all it was unfair: you seemed to be offering him a real possibility, while in fact you were waiting to be swept away by feelings.

“Often physical attraction develops as emotional connection does.”

To a man who came saying that by every inquiry the girl was good and the only trouble was that he felt no attraction to her, he answered with a smile: kinyan meshichah, acquisition by pulling, exists only for animals; when you buy an animal and it does not pull, it is a poor acquisition. But when it comes to getting married, kinyan meshichah does not apply: whether you are pulled toward her is not something we check.

“When it comes to getting married, however, kinyan meshichah doesn't apply!”

Attraction is necessary, but it is not superficial and it grows with time. One girl found her chassan unattractive, a big nose, but his warm personality quickly outweighed that, and they are happily married. The criterion is not the best-looking man in the neighbourhood but the best future husband and father; attraction is when you cannot help wanting to see the person again. And if after a date you have neither a no nor a yes but a maybe, you should go out again.

“If it's not a no or it's not a yes... it's a maybe, you should go out again.”

Attraction between a couple must not be dismissed, and do not let anyone convince you that it does not matter: a person should look at the other and feel something positive, a strong thrill or at least a faint blip on the radar. Indifference is unacceptable, especially when you are newly married. One may not marry on attraction alone; character must be checked. But marrying someone with no potential for attraction at all is something to do only after careful thought, even if the person has many fine qualities. And the order is sometimes the reverse of the usual: often a person's character appeals to you, and out of that an attraction grows.

“Often, because a person's character appeals to you, you develop an attraction for him/her.”

He sorts feelings into three groups: an emotional connection that arises at once, in which case the couple marry with joy; a clearly repellent element, in which case the shidduch does not go ahead; and the third and most common case, when the meetings went smoothly but there is no magic touch. There is no magic formula for recognising one's destined match. He gives the Torah's view through Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch on the verse that Yitzchak took Rivka, she became his wife, and he loved her: Rav Hirsch explains that Yitzchak came to love Rivka after he had taken her as his wife, and that true, lasting love is therefore reached after the wedding. Romantic bells before marriage can vanish as quickly as they appeared.

He hears this phrase most often from older girls and far less from young ones. After two or three years of searching the picture changes, like popcorn in a microwave: first a burst, then only occasional pops; the older ones no longer hear that festive noise around them. Having grown used to single life, they fear the changes marriage will bring, carry the weight of past hurts and disappointments, and tell themselves that, having waited this long, they must make sure it is for the right person.

“If I waited this long, I'm going to make sure it's for the right person.”

In the case cited, he advises getting engaged if the conversation is healthy and each finds the other's looks acceptable. He notes that there is no source in Chazal requiring an emotional attachment before marriage. The conditions of normal communication and acceptable looks are essential to the answer as handed down.

“there is no source in Chazal that there needs to be an emotional attachment prior to marriage”