On Being Judged

I recently discovered I do not like being judged by others; I get enough from myself.  Every day, I scrutinize every inch of my body in front of a mirror and scold myself for every stretch mark, every bulge, every blemish, every scar, and every mole.  Then, since I have not mocked myself enough, I take out my handheld mirror with three times the magnification and I continue the process so of picking on me. Of course, the day would not be complete without hours of ruminating over my personality and character flaws, not to mention my parenting and partnering skills.  With two failed marriages and two children who do not speak to me, those are difficult to overlook.

Yet, daily, I invite others into my life to pass along their judgment on me as well; it seems my daily rituals are not enough and I need to allow somebody else to beat up on me as well.  The black and blue marks around my eyes are not from sleep deprivation, they are from being boxed around until I am blue in the face; figuratively speaking of course.

As I walk into the gym each day for three hours of working out, I see the judgmental eyes staring my way; are my arms jiggling?  Am I wearing last year’s colors?  Is my hair mussed?  I look over at the man on the treadmill next to me, he is around my age, not bad looking, but he has a gold loop earring. YIKES!  I pass my judgments on him.

Later on in the day, my mother makes her weekly phone call to me; “I told your kids you don’t want them to have your new number.  They really hate you now,” she announces.  Thanks, Mom, I think to myself.  “You know, they say you never respected them.  You were not a very good mother, anyway,” she continues.

“Yes, I know,” I answer, thinking, and neither were you; passing my judgments along to her now.

I come home, settle down in front of the computer and read a review of a story I had posted online.  A reader blasts me, not for the story or the writing, but me personally; I feel hurt, attacked.  I read the review, pick apart the grammar, the spelling, and judge the reviewer.

Honestly* I try very hard not to judge others; I have even said many times that I have changed my outlook on judging others, holding back my opinions and reserving comment because “I wasn’t there” or “I don’t have all the facts”.  However, that was as a result of my mother’s trial for the murder of my father; I typically mean regarding scenarios such as guilt or innocence.  Though, I do not intend to be so judgmental.

Perhaps, I should simply sit home, stare in the mirror and judge myself more; although, I am fairly critical and nobody could hurt me more.

*Caveat… I abhor using the word honestly; it looks as though I have to announce when I am being honest, as if I usually lie.  I don’t.

6 thoughts on “On Being Judged

  1. I guess your name Flat Girl does resonate with you personally. Judgement can be vindictive and very hurtful at times and feelings and personalities will suffer. I personally try to find the good in even the lowest of our society. Human beings are bonded in genetic and life,s design. I can overcome my use of judgement of others, but as far as others judging me, let the one with the least concern or problem be the first one to cast the first stone….

    • As I say (well, not just me…) but, glass houses. I try so hard not to be judgmental, as I know how hurtful it is. It’s terribly painful to be judged. I wish I could find the key to stop judging myself…. challenging when so many others keep holding that mirror closer and closer to me.


  2. This could become a comedy with me judging myself for how you are judging yourself for judging others. Silly, isn’t it? So hard not to do, this judging of others, of judging ourselves. It makes me wonder where we learn it from. Things just are. I take for granted that when someone feels strongly about something that there was a powerful event in their life that caused them to feel that way and trying to change or invalidate them is pointless.

    I do try to realize that there is only now and the moment ahead of me. What is past cannot be changed and any residual feeling I have from the past very well be only in me and no one else which means I am punishing myself for the past. Those words are so very easy to say and so very hard to live up to.

    I feel selfish as I come hear and read blog after blog and each time I get bits of insight into myself. Thank you so much for helping me be that little bit better than I was before I stumbled upon you. I am grateful.

    • Oh, Sir… your words make me feel selfish. I have always wanted to write; and, imagine this, I am writing. Add to this, the fact that somebody actually cares what I have so say and I feel almost at peace on some days.

      It feels very good.

      Thank you for visiting with me so often. I truly enjoy your words. Knowing you are out there somewhere… under this full moon tonight, typing away 🙂


  3. I think that we all see ourselves in each other a bit. I can’t imagine how inept your mom must feel by the things you share… she must not have much self worth because she obviously must feeo horrible about herself by trying to always put you down. And I am sure it is not just you, if truth be told. She can’t be a very happy person. Sometimes, family isn’t always required to allow each other to abuse them. It sounds as if that might be the case here. You don’t need this kind of ridicule! But it seems as if you are handling it perfectly!!! I am proud of you. The cream rises to the top and you are definitely the cream!!!

    • Oh, my mother is a terribly unhappy person. She has been unhappy most of my life… and, since she killed my father in 2004, it has become even worse for her.

      She has had a terrible life, so I try very hard not to judge or blame her, often giving her the benefit of the doubt knowing what a rough life she had.

      That being said, I have had a difficult life; I do not believe that gives me carte blanche to treat others poorly. I hope that I do not.

      I hope I am rising..

      Thank you, as always.

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