An Opinion Formed

I like to quip (even though it’s not grammatically correct) that I’m a judger who judges. And I’m not sure most people I meet would even know this about me, because I’ve learned to bite my tongue. There’s a whole lot in my head that never makes it out of my mouth. To be honest, I’m not very chatty.

A lot of my job is making judgments—analyzing information, presenting an argument, trying to convince people I’m right, going on the offensive if I don’t get my way. And I’ve thought, well, that’s just who I am, that’s just what I do. But at this point, I can’t turn it off, and I wonder if there isn’t some better way to be, some better way to act.

Are my constant critiques a defense mechanism? Am I missing an opportunity to connect, by distancing myself, by holding myself above others? And didn’t I just judge someone else, saying, “The mouth speaks what the heart is full of”? What is my heart full of? Ridicule and contempt, and, God help me, self-righteousness? Because even though I don’t totally, 100%, ever believe my critiques—I sort of do, or I wouldn’t be making them.

Can I change? I doubt it. As Pop-Eye used to say: “I yam what I yam.” Don’t judge me.

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