On Being Judged

We all hate to be judged. Yet we judge all the time.

We judge who is more likely to be our buddies.

We judge which food could satisfy our hunger. Which drink could quench our thirst.

We judge what kind of situation that could benefit us. We judge when we should stay, when fleeing is the most logical thing to do.

We judge who is the best candidate for our lifetime partner.

Sure, we all hate being judged. Because it isn't fair. When someone judges something or someone, that something or someone usually is not able to talk back.

Judging sometimes is done in secrecy. One day you might find yourself in a situation where you meet a new person. You take a good look at her. Her hair is crumpled, like she hasn't combed it for at least a decade. Her eyes are bloodshot, watery. Her hands tremble as she puts cigarettes in her mouth, smoking as if she wants to fill the whole world with smoke. Her other hand holds beer. She sips it from time to time.

You learn from another person that she gave birth a week ago. You stare at her, incredulous. How could this person drink beer and smoke like that? Surely she knows that it's bad for her baby--if she's breastfeeding, that is?

You begin to notice many things. She's been out all day, meaning, she leaves the baby at home. When you try to talk to her about the baby, she evades the topic, or reacts strongly. She seems to dislike the baby, you think. What a bad mom she is!

Until you find out that the baby died at birth. Then you revise your judgment towards her.

Judging is humane, methink. Why feel annoyed when others judge you? You judge them, anyway...