She thinks I’m some kind of a tramp for having had more than one boyfriend. She’s willing to let a 22-year-old friendship go to hell over it. She’s judging me. And I’m falling woefully short of her exacting standards.
Well, she falls short of mine too. Her lack of ambition, lack of desire to do something more with her life than be Mrs.Housewife, closed-minded perceptions about religion and no-discussion-about-it values appall me. Well, she’s ‘not good enough’ in my book either. That’s revenge. But really, if she hadn’t judged me before, would I have judged her too? Yes, I think I would.
Like I’ve judged all the people in my world. I have friends, acquaintances, loves, family. Everyone has passed my acid test and I’ve passed theirs. Suddenly I realize that everyone who is close to me has a strong opinion, a job or a desire to do something constructive with their life and a willingness to listen to other points of view. It isn’t just things I like in other people. These are traits that I demand in people for them to have access to my world. And I have the gate pass to the lives of several other people, whose criterion I fulfil.
Where does insecurity stem from? I’m afraid I’ll lose the people I love. I’m afraid they’ll stop loving me. I’m afraid they’ll see that I’m not as smart or witty or accomplished or nice or fun or loyal as they think. I’m also afraid that I’ll find out that they are not as much of what I think they are.
Mother Teresa said, “When we start judging, we stop loving.” And who would know more about loving than she did?
Maybe I never have loved anyone before. Or been loved.