Mother, wife, high-school teacher. I blog because it's cheaper than therapy.

Monday, November 21, 2011

A Very Incovenient Truth

If I am to be completely honest, I must admit that I am a judgemental bitch. I have absolutely no qualms about passing judgement on the lives and choices of others. Alongside this lovely facet of my personality is the virtue, or perhaps the failing, of having absolutely no problem letting people know when I believe they have made an error of sorts – regardless of whether or not these choices are actually any of my business.

I know it’s wrong. I know a better person would stand by silently, acknowledge that the choices of others’, even best friends’, are not up for critique. Perhaps if I was a better friend I would be able to simply empathise with those I love, and acknowledge that when they come to me they seek support, not a solution. Unfortunately, I am by nature a seeker of solutions. I have never understood the desire to complain about a situation if you are not going to actually attempt to resolve it. In my mind, if there is an aspect of your life that is not working for you, then by all means have a whinge, but then do something to change it. If you don’t, odds are, whatever it is you are complaining about is actually working for you to some extent.

It angers me to see those I love living lives that I believe are hurting them or perhaps, more accurately, living a life of compromise, missing out on what should be theirs, on the existences they should be able to live, simply because of the failings of the men or women they choose to share their lives with. When I see friends in relationships that fail to provide them the love, care, respect and attention I believe they deserve I feel frustrated and occasionally and no doubt ironically, I even find myself angry at these same friends for accepting a life for themselves that I cannot accept.

I acknowledge that at the base of this issue is an assumption that my friends desire the same sort of lifestyle I aspire to, and rationally I know this may very well not be the case. I try to remind myself that the lives I presume to be hurting them or limiting them or frustrating them may in fact be the lives they desire. Perhaps the reality is, the only one their lives are really frustrating is me.

My judgements are based on the assumption that everyone I know and love has similar values and basic desires to mine. I presume that all those I perceive of being similar to me in some way, also share my belief in the value of owning their own home. I presume that they also seek a partner who supports them emotionally, mentally and financially. My judgements are based on the assumption that all parents I know also believe that education is the most important gift they can ever give their children and that dressing up, putting on a spot of lippy and a pair of killer heels makes every woman feel sexy and better about themselves – even if only for a moment. My judgements are based on the assumption that everyone finds the identical attributes worthy of respect and admiration. I am learning that this is very much not the case.

Hubby, hunched over his computer, working late into the evening to ensure he is good at his job, is not a factor which would cause all wives to flush with love. Some would resent the hours he puts in, the endless discussion which centres on our working lives. Some would say that often we pay more attention to our students than our own biological offspring, and at times, they would be right.

I have many failings, but perhaps one of my greatest is that I assume that what I believe is ‘the right way’ is indeed ‘the right way’. We talk about cultural sensitivity, and how as a global society we, in a more tangible way than ever before are willing and able to embrace and respect the multitudes of traditions, values and beliefs that colour our world. And we do. For those who are visibly different, and reside in a world that is clearly alien to us. I would never dare bring my assumptions to some woman living in a mud-hut in Africa with eleven children and a goat. That would be presumptuous and insensitive. But for some reason I have absolutely no problem imposing these same assumptions on my friends living down the street, around the corner or in the very next suburb.

And so, to those I have judged based on my own assumptions regarding what I believed you should want out of life, I apologise. I promise to try to adopt the old “live and let live” adage. But, I give fair warning, come whinging to me about your life and I will tell you the truth... as I see it.

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