I Judge People

Sometimes I judge people. Not aloud but in my mind I often find myself automatically judging people for the way they speak, dress, wear their hair or make-up, treat their children, etc, etc, etc. I do not think I am better than others, and overall I am quite friendly to all types of people. So why do I judge people?

This past Saturday while shopping for my nephew’s first birthday gift I saw a woman with two children: a girl of about 7 and a toddler boy. The girl was quiet, well mannered and doing her best to mother the toddler who was screaming and having constant tantrums. The mother looked distressed to say the least. She was overweight – now I have gained a few pounds myself, but she was just sloppy and poorly dressed – was not wearing any make-up which she could have used, oily hair, and had a look of pure panic in her eyes. These are all the things I was thinking about her when I first saw her. Our paths crossed several times throughout the store as the boy ran wild, screaming and crying and ran into me more than once. I love children, so this never angered me. I felt sorry for the little boy and just wanted to give him a hug. Admittedly I was already sad and feeling sorry for myself while shopping for my nephew’s gift. I love baby O so much, but I could not block the intense feeling of sadness that reminded me I was not shopping for a child of my own. The child I am unable to conceive. I kept asking myself why isn’t this mother comforting her child?

I had just experienced one of the roughest weeks of my life but only a handful of people knew about this. If you looked at me in the store that day, you would think here is a woman who is well dressed, happy, and has her life together. Appearances are so very deceiving. I had not been able to eat for days because I was so sick with stress and had actually lost some weight and looked good in my clothes that day. Astonishing what the right make-up can do to conceal dark circles under the eyes. Add a little mascara, blush, and lip gloss, plaster a smile on my face, and I looked like a new person. The way I looked outside was completely opposite of what was going on inside.

I typically break down and look my worst in private. Staying strong, cheering up others, and never showing weakness is very important to me. No one outside of about three people ever asks me if I am okay because I appear to be strong. If you could peel back the layers, I would look worse on the inside than that poor mother did on the outside. Who am I to judge? I was jealous of that woman who did not have it together because she has something God is not ready for me to have.

I went to church the next day, and the priest could not have given a more powerful message for me. I sat there crying silently with tears running down my face. Even as my husband asked if I was okay and tried to comfort me, I held my breath to stop the tears and keep it together. Sometimes it is okay to not be okay.