Under the Magnifying Glass of a Small Town

"Building a personal life in Brooklyn, where nobody knows you, is one thing. Looking for a shidduch in a small town in the provinces, where everyone is in plain sight, is a completely different level of hell.

All it takes is for me to go on a first date with a girl at the only decent café in our neighborhood, and by the next day the whole community knows about it. At morning prayers men come up to me and wink, and my mother gets interrogated at the store: 'So how are things going with Gabriel? We saw them together. What family is she from? Will there be a continuation?' If after two meetings I realize the girl isn't right for me and close the shidduch, people immediately start judging me in whispers: 'Oh, Gabriel is so picky, he toys with girls' heads, he'll drive himself into being a bachelor at thirty.' This total transparency of life strips the process of any intimacy. You can't just calmly get to know a person — you're obligated to put on a performance in front of an audience of two hundred neighbors."