Before You Judge: What Do You Really Know?

Before You Judge: What Do You Really Know?

Have you ever seen something, heard something, or been told something about another person and immediately formed an opinion?

I have.

I work very hard at trying not to judge other people, but I am human. I still catch myself doing it. What I have learned to do is become more aware of when it happens. When I recognize that I am judging someone or making an assumption about a situation, I try to stop and look at it through another lens.

Because what I saw may be real.

What I heard may be real.

What I felt may be real.

But what I decided it meant may not be the whole story.

That distinction matters.

It matters in the way we talk about other people. It matters in the stories we repeat. It matters in the energy we put into the world. And it matters when our judgment begins influencing the way we treat another human being.

Judgment and Bullying Are Not the Same Thing

I think it is important to start here because we use the word bullying a lot.

Judgment and bullying are not the same thing.

We make judgments all the time. Sometimes they are necessary. We assess situations, behaviors, relationships, and environments to determine what feels right for us and what doesn't.

Judgment can also happen quietly inside our own minds. I can have an unfavorable opinion about someone's behavior without doing anything to that person.

Bullying involves behavior. It is generally associated with unwanted aggressive behavior, repetition or the likelihood of repetition, and some form of real or perceived power imbalance.

That means every disagreement, negative opinion, unpleasant interaction, criticism, or boundary is not automatically bullying.

But our judgment can influence our behavior.

Once we decide what we think about someone, that judgment can affect the way we speak about them, interact with them, respond to them, and even the way we present them to other people.

Maybe we make a negative comment. Maybe we tell someone else what we think happened.

Maybe we begin treating that person differently. Other people may hear our interpretation and begin forming opinions before they have ever had an experience with that person themselves.

When judgment begins showing up through gossip, rumors, ridicule, exclusion, public embarrassment, repeated targeting, or encouraging other people to join in, the effect can become much larger than the original thought or experience.

Not all of those behaviors automatically make something bullying. But they can still cause harm, and some patterns can cross into bullying depending on the circumstances.

That's why I think we need to pay attention not only to the judgments we make, but to what our judgments lead us to do.

What Did I See—and What Did I Decide It Meant?

Imagine you send a friend several messages and don't receive a response.

What do you actually know?

You know you sent the messages, and you know you haven't received a response.

But then our minds can start filling in the rest.

• They're ignoring me.

• They're mad at me.

• That was rude.

• Apparently our friendship doesn't mean very much to them.

Notice what happened.

We moved from what we know, to what we observed, to what we interpreted, and then perhaps to what we assumed.

Maybe the friend really is intentionally ignoring the messages.

But maybe they're overwhelmed. Maybe something is happening in their life that we know nothing about. Maybe they read the message and forgot to respond. Maybe they need space. Maybe they're upset. Maybe there is another explanation we haven't even considered.

The point isn't to make excuses for them.

We don't know yet.

There is a difference between recognizing what we actually observed and turning our interpretation of that observation into the complete truth about another person.

Where Perspectives Meet

Two people can experience the same situation and walk away telling very different stories about what happened.

That doesn't necessarily mean one of them is lying.

Our experiences, expectations, history, emotions, relationships, and the information available to us all influence how we understand another person and their actions.

I saw this throughout my career in corrections. One thing I honestly hated was the annual employee review process. We were supposed to evaluate someone's job performance by giving them ratings, but I saw firsthand how easily the person doing the evaluating could influence those ratings.

A supervisor who really liked an employee might view that person's performance one way.

Another supervisor might see the same employee very differently. And when there was conflict between a supervisor and an employee, personal feelings could sometimes find their way into what was supposed to be an evaluation of job performance.

It made me question something much bigger than an annual performance review:

How objective are we really being when we decide we are qualified to rate another human being?

There may be facts we can measure. Did something happen? Was something completed?

Was a responsibility fulfilled?

Those are different from deciding what someone's behavior means, why they did it, or what kind of person they are.

There is a difference between evaluating an experience or a behavior and defining a human being.

That's why, when two people's perspectives conflict, I want to know more than who tells the most convincing story.

I want to look at where their perspectives meet.

What do both people agree happened?

Where do their accounts differ?

What facts can actually be established?

What part is interpretation?

What information does one person have that the other may not?

And what do we still not know?

The truth isn't automatically halfway between two people's stories. Sometimes the facts support one person's account much more strongly. Sometimes both people are holding pieces of information the other doesn't have. Sometimes they agree about what happened but disagree completely about what it meant.

For me, that's where the gold nugget of truth may be found—not by automatically choosing a side, but by being willing to look beyond one perspective long enough to understand what is actually there.

Energy: What Am I Receiving—and What Am I Sending?

I pay attention to energy.

There are people and interactions that simply don't feel healthy for me.

I don't have to decide that someone is a terrible person in order to recognize that I don't want a particular energy in my space.

Those are two very different things.

This interaction doesn't feel right for me.

without saying:

I know everything about who this person is.

But energetic awareness also needs to work in the other direction.

It is easy to focus on the energy other people bring into our lives. It can be harder to stop and ask:

• What energy am I bringing into theirs?

• What happens when I gossip about someone?

• What happens when I ridicule them?

• What happens when I repeat something I haven't verified?

• What happens when I publicly criticize someone and other people begin joining in?

• What happens when I try to persuade other people that they should see someone exactly as I do?

  
  

We are responsible not only for protecting our own energy but also for becoming aware of the energy our words, assumptions, and actions put into the lives of other people.

When Judgment Gets an Audience

Social media has given our judgments a very large audience.

We can post about something we witnessed or experienced without ever saying someone's name, yet everyone within a particular circle may know exactly who we're talking about.

Then someone comments.

Another person agrees.

Someone else adds something they heard.

Another person may have never even met the person being discussed but joins the conversation anyway.

Before long, one person's experience has become a group discussion about another human being who may not even be part of the conversation.

And the number of people agreeing with something doesn't automatically make it the complete truth.

There is nothing inherently wrong with saying, This was my experience.

Our experiences matter.

But I think we also need to ask what we are creating when we invite an audience into our judgment of someone else.

• Are we sharing information?

• Are we looking for support?

• Are we encouraging understanding?

• Or are we creating an environment where other people are being invited to criticize, ridicule, exclude, shame, or take sides?

  
  

The energy changes when a crowd gets involved.

Whose Story Am I Carrying?

Rumors are another place where judgment can grow very quickly.

Someone has a negative experience with another person and talks about it.

That person tells someone else.

Eventually we hear the story.

And without realizing it, we can begin viewing someone through another person's experience.

Sometimes our judgment isn't even based on our own interaction with someone.

It's borrowed from someone else's.

This becomes especially complicated when someone feels hurt, rejected, used, excluded, or slighted.

When we're hurt, we naturally tell the story from the place where we experienced that hurt.

That doesn't automatically mean we're being dishonest. The feelings may be completely genuine.

But our feelings don't automatically give us every piece of the story.

After everything I've done for them, they suddenly cut me off.

The other person might say:

I finally stopped allowing myself to be used and established a boundary.

Those can be two perspectives surrounding the same relationship.

If I only hear the first story, I might decide the other person was cruel.

If I only hear the second, I might decide the first person was using them.

Either way, I would be filling in information I don't actually have.

That's why I try to be careful about automatically assigning the roles of victim and villain after hearing one person's account.

I want more information before I decide what I believe.

Clear Up the Rumor—or Don't Carry It

When I hear a rumor that matters enough that it could affect the way I see someone, I have been known to go directly to that person.

My verbiage is usually pretty simple:

“I'm trying to clear up a rumor I heard.”

Then I ask.

And more importantly, I listen.

Going directly to the person doesn't mean I automatically believe their version either. That's not the point.

They may confirm what I heard. They may deny it. They may provide information I didn't have before. I may hear a completely different perspective. I may discover that pieces of both versions are accurate.

Or I may still walk away without knowing exactly what happened.

But at least I haven't automatically turned someone else's interpretation into my own belief.

And if something isn't important enough for me to seek more information?

Maybe it isn't mine to repeat either.

Whose story am I carrying—and why am I carrying it?

That's a question I think is worth asking.

Your Experience Doesn't Have to Become My Path

I believe people have a right to talk about their experiences.

• This happened to me.

• This is what I experienced.

• This is how it affected me.

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I can listen to that. I can respect what you experienced. I can even learn something from it.

But I don't have to surrender my ability to form my own understanding.

We live in a world where we're also constantly being asked to rate nearly every experience we have.

How was your experience?

How many stars would you give it?

Would you recommend this person, business, service, or experience to someone else?

Reviews can be useful. And there are certainly situations where sharing a serious experience is important.

But because of what I've learned about perspective, I don't feel compelled to publicly rate every experience I have.

Maybe I didn't connect with someone.

Maybe something wasn't what I expected.

Maybe the energy wasn't right for me.

That doesn't automatically mean someone else will have the same experience.

Sometimes something simply wasn't for me.

My experience can be valid without becoming a declaration of what everyone else's experience will be.

The same applies to relationships.

Where I think we need to become especially aware is when sharing our experience begins turning into an attempt to control someone else's path.

• You shouldn't talk to that person.

• You should block them.

• I can't believe you're still friends with them.

• If you really supported me, you wouldn't have anything to do with them.

  
  

At that point, we are no longer simply sharing information. We may be trying to determine what another person should do with it.

I believe we each have our own path.

I can give you information that may help you navigate yours. I can tell you about my experience. I can establish the boundaries I need for myself.

But I don't get to take the steering wheel away from you.

My boundary does not have to become your boundary.

And your relationship with someone does not require me to have a relationship with them.

That's respect.

Boundaries Can Change the Story Someone Tells About Us

Boundaries are interesting because the person establishing one and the person receiving one can experience the exact same boundary very differently.

Maybe I stop answering every request.

Maybe I stop doing things for someone that I no longer feel comfortable doing.

Maybe I change the level of access someone has to me.

Maybe I stop participating in a relationship that doesn't feel healthy.

Maybe I unfollow, unfriend, restrict, or block someone.

From my perspective, I may finally be protecting my energy or recognizing that a pattern isn't healthy for me.

From their perspective, they may feel rejected, abandoned, angry, hurt, or slighted.

Their feelings are real.

But their feelings about my boundary do not automatically establish why I created it.

Someone can feel hurt by my boundary without my boundary having been created to hurt them.

And sometimes, when a boundary changes a relationship that had previously benefited someone, that person may tell the story very differently than the person who finally established the boundary.

That doesn't automatically make either person's story the complete truth.

Again, we have perspectives.

And calling something a boundary doesn't mean we should never examine our own actions either. We still have a responsibility to look at what we're doing, why we're doing it, and the effect it may have.

For me, the important distinction is this:

A boundary controls access to me. It does not have to be a declaration about your worth.

And yes, sometimes blocking someone is simply a boundary.

Being blocked doesn't automatically prove that someone was right or wrong.

Sometimes it means one person decided they no longer wanted that interaction or energy in their space.

Let the Silence Speak

Another thing I have learned is that not everything requires my response.

There are plenty of times when I see something and immediately think, Oh, I want to comment on that.

Then I stop.

I look at it again.

I look at the energy surrounding it.

And sometimes I realize:

I'm not willing to take the bait.

So I move on.

Silence can be incredibly powerful.

During my career in corrections, I used to remind staff that when they were talking, the inmates were listening. When staff weren't talking, the inmates were more likely to start talking instead.

That taught me something that extends far beyond a prison environment.

Sometimes when we stop filling the space, we learn.

People talk.

Information comes forward.

We notice things we might have missed while we were busy preparing our response.

Silence can give us space to observe, listen, gather information, assess energy, and decide whether anything actually needs to be said.

Don't confuse the impulse to react with the need to respond.

And we need to extend that same consideration to other people's silence.

Someone who doesn't respond isn't automatically admitting guilt.

They aren't necessarily weak.

They aren't necessarily afraid to defend themselves.

They aren't necessarily agreeing with what's being said.

Maybe they're listening.

Maybe they're gathering information.

Maybe they're protecting their energy.

Maybe they've recognized that the conversation isn't productive.

Or maybe they're simply not willing to take the bait either.

We don't know unless they tell us.

Sometimes silence really does speak. We just need to stop deciding what it is saying before we've listened.

Respect Requires More Than a Label

You may notice I haven't said, Just be kind.

That's intentional.

“Kind” is a word we use very easily. We can call ourselves kind while never examining the effect of our behavior on someone else.

I would rather ask myself whether I am being aware, respectful, responsible, discerning, and accountable.

• Am I respecting another person's right to have a different perspective?

• Am I allowing them to follow their own path without trying to change or modify it?

• Am I respecting their boundaries even when I don't like them?

• Am I considering what my words and actions may do to another person?

• Am I taking responsibility for the energy I am adding to a situation?

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Respect doesn't require agreement.

Sometimes respect looks like speaking up.

Sometimes it looks like establishing a firm boundary.

Sometimes it means going directly to someone instead of talking about them.

And sometimes it means leaving something alone.

Before I React, What Do I Actually Know?

Awareness gives me a place to interrupt my own reaction.

Before I judge, repeat, post, comment, confront, defend, or join someone else's conversation, I can ask myself:

• What do I actually know?

• What did I observe?

• What did I interpret?

• What am I assuming?

• What don't I know?

• What energy am I receiving from this situation?

• What energy will I add if I participate?

• Does this actually require a response from me?

• Am I responding thoughtfully, or am I reacting?

• What effect could my words or actions have on another person?

• Am I respecting their boundaries and their right to follow their own path?

• Am I sharing information, or am I trying to make someone else adopt my perspective?

• Do I need to establish a boundary?

• Or can I simply move on?

  
  

And finally:

What is the gold nugget I can take from this?

Find the Gold Nugget of Truth

I don't think the goal of every difficult experience should be deciding who won.

Sometimes there is genuinely harmful behavior, and it needs to be recognized. Looking through another lens doesn't mean excusing mistreatment. Understanding another perspective doesn't mean abandoning accountability. And respecting someone's path doesn't mean allowing them unlimited access to ours.

But not every difficult experience needs a villain either.

• Sometimes the gold nugget is information.

• Sometimes it's recognizing that we made an assumption.

• Sometimes it's hearing another perspective and changing our understanding.

• Sometimes it's discovering that our original impression was accurate.

• Sometimes it's realizing that we need a stronger boundary.

• Sometimes it's learning that another person's opinion of us doesn't have to become our truth.

• Sometimes it's recognizing that we're carrying a story that was never ours to carry.

  
  

And sometimes the gold nugget is simply realizing:

This doesn't deserve any more of my energy.

We are all moving through life with different experiences, different information, different perspectives, and different paths.

We won't always agree.

We won't always understand one another.

But we can become more aware of what we know, what we assume, what we repeat, what we put into the world, and how our actions may affect another human being.

Maybe the goal isn't to prove that our perspective is the right one.

Maybe it's to gain enough awareness to recognize what belongs on our path, what belongs on someone else's—and what we can simply leave behind.

Healing Through Happiness™