Today as I walked away from the dog groomer's where I had just dropped off Lucy for a much-needed trim, a multitude of judgmental thoughts barraged my mind. I feared that, upon my return to pick up Lucy, the groomer would berate me for letting her claws get too long, or for how grinch-like her paws looked. I was prepared to parry each accusation with my well thought-out excuses, and boy, did I have some good ones (such as only being able to call to make an appointment, as opposed to easily making an appointment online). In fact, my mind was so preoccupied with these imaginary conversations and judgments, that I walked a block further than I needed to in order to return home. I was majorly worked up.
At first, once I realized what was happening with my thoughts, I tried to tell myself that I could care less what anyone thinks. Anyone can judge me, but those people don't know me. Haters gonna hate.
And then it dawned on me.
These imaginary judgments that I so fear from other people speak more to the judgments I hold of myself. When I come up with excuses as to why I have not taken Lucy to appointments sooner, it's because I am judging myself for not having done so. I feel guilt and shame for not being a perfect dog mom. Lucy deserves the best, and I want to give her the best, but I fall short. And that's ok.
This realization about my fear of judgment has had me rethinking other places I've felt this way lately. In my barre class this morning, there were only three of us, including the (tiny) instructor, so when I had to do plank and pushups from my knees instead of my toes, I feared judgment for being too chubby and not strong enough. When skinnier girls come into barre classes, I always fear being silently judged for the rolls that push through the belly of my workout tank. What's really going on is I judge myself for not being stronger, and for not being thinner, though I know the truth behind both of those statements.
And then there are the bigger life judgments I have about myself. I fear that people think I'm flaky, or that people hate me for being terrible at remaining in contact with people that I don't see every day. In reality, I feel shame and guilt for not being that amazing person who keeps in contact via text and hangout sessions with every cool person I meet and call friend for a time. At the same time, however, I understand the boundaries I have in place in my life, and that those boundaries may keep people out, but they're necessary to my well-being. And that's ok, too.
In the end, I need to remember the name of my blog, and keep it in mind when the judgmental thoughts start parading through my mind. The judgmental script is not one that suits me, and therefore, I am tossing it out. I'm a human being, I mess up a ton, and I don't owe anyone any excuses. Not even myself.