The Talmud says that matchmaking is as difficult for God as the parting of the Red Sea. I beg to differ. Finding my bashert is undoubtedly harder.
The reverberating tick from my biological clock is a relentless reminder that, at the ripe old age of 28, I have yet to be fruitful and multiply. This greatly concerns my mother, who at my age was pregnant with her second child. She desperately wants grandchildren, but not at the cost of a schmuck for a son-in-law.
Oy, there goes the majority of the New York City dating pool, I thought. Turns out, I had been too busy crying over undatable duds on the Hinge app to notice the shidduch renaissance that started during the Covid pandemic.
From generation to generation, Jews have relied on the tradition of matchmaking to adapt to the ever-changing landscape of dating. Now, two of the newest and buzziest post-social distancing dating apps are going beyond the algorithms of established platforms like Jdate and JSwipe to incorporate a matchmaker component as well as in-person gatherings. Maisel to the upcoming Jewish Matchmaking reality show on Netflix.
But one need not be Jewish to join. At the time, I was working as an influencer on Instagram. Its success rides on a sleek user experience, a matchmaker whom singles can text within the app and a heavy dose of nostalgia. From comedy shows and fitness classes to live podcast events and happy hour mixers, the app for elite Jews has gatherings for everyone. Over the course of several months, and following a handful of unremarkable first dates, I did have a brief fling with a Lox Club suitor.
