When we judge others we are only ever judging ourselves

On days that I struggle with my own self worth and feelings of 'enough-ness', I know that it's happening because I feel so triggered by posts on Facebook and Instagram that normally wouldn't impact me.

I know that on days I'm struggling with my self worth, the voices in my head get louder. The voices in my head speak to me much more negatively. On days where I struggle with my own self worth, I believe them.

But the biggest sign that I've come to observe, is that on days I struggle with my own self worth, is when I'm judging people around me.

I'll tentatively admit that I used to be quite a 'judgey' person. If I'm totally honest, I used to feel superior quite often. But I didn't really have much awareness of it, I had no context for comparison and I didn't question it.

These days I've done a lot more inner work on myself, I've done a lot more self reflection. I've grown a lot more and learnt what it is to connect to humanity at a deeper level, and for the most part those judgments have naturally dropped away.

So on days where I feel those judgments creeping in and the voices of comparison kick up, I know there's some work I need to do my own sense of self-worth.

Recently, when I was having a particularly wobbly day, I went to a Pilates class at my local gym in the evening. I sat cross legged on my mat getting ready for the class to start. The teacher was fiddling with setting up the music and I was gazing into the huge mirrored wall at the front of the room.

Looking into the mirror, I could see everyone else sat to the side of me and behind me on their own mats. And as I glanced around the room, I immediately began judging people.

I began judging the older guy sitting to my left hunched over with bad posture.

I began judging the overweight lady sat behind me.

I began judging the lady on my right who still had her trainers on and didn't look like she was about to take them off anytime soon.

I began judging others to make myself feel better.

And then in noticing I was judging others, I began judging myself.

I tried to shake these feelings off. Because I felt really icky. I didn't want them. I felt ashamed thinking these things. How dare I judge someone else! How dare I use this as a way to feel better than them!

And yet in the moments of those judgments and the inner reality check, a little voice in my head was still whispering, "Yeah, but you know it's true, you are better than them". Then immediately another voice inside would come along to slam that one down.

It was intense.

As the class got underway I began to settle down. But the judgments didn't leave me entirely.

As we were moving through the the sequences and the poses, instead of staying in my own lane with my own thoughts, and being present in my own body, I caught myself steeling glances around the room to see what other people were doing.

To see whether I was the most flexible one there.

To see if I had the best form when holding the Plank or the Teaser.

To see how well the overweight lady behind me was doing in comparison.

I still needed to make myself feel 'better than' in order to make myself feel 'good enough'.

I cringed as I walked home after that class. I felt a heavy with judgment. I felt heavy with the knowledge that I'd sent such a negative energy out towards the other people in the room. That i'd made no effort to connect with a smile to anyone else.

Because at those times I feel a struggle with my own sense of self worth, at those times I struggle with my own insecurities, instead of reaching out and finding connection in the humanity we all share, my reaction is to pull away and disconnect from the aspects of people's lives that I cannot experientially relate to.

I use difference as a reason to disconnect.

I can't understand first hand what life is like lived in their shoes and so I pull away and judge them for it. It's a 'fear' thing and it only shows up when I'm sitting in my own insecurities.

Now today, just a few days later, I'm in a very different place. I recall how judgmental I felt but I'm compassionate towards myself, instead of hating on myself. I'm compassionate towards those parts of me, the shadow side, because I know I'm not really 'judgey Jo' at my core. It's not who I am deep down.

For the most part. I love people. I embrace people. I see the beauty and the 'humaneness' that we all are inside regardless of what our wrapper might look like.

And I know that's my truth.

And I know that two days ago, it was simply my own insecurities showing up and being projected on those around me.

So I show my self compassion. I send myself the love that I needed then.

As I sit here reflecting, gazing into that mirrored wall in my mind's eye, I look the people around me in the room, the same people who were there in real life just a few days ago and I feel nothing but love.

There is no judgment.

As I rewind that tape and play out that same scenario in my mind's eye, I feel connected. I feel whole. I feel just as worthy as everybody else in the room.

Because when we judge others we are only ever judging ourselves.

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Feeling totally exposed even in my own private company

As I sat up in bed, immediately upon waking this morning, I had a sudden urge to grab my phone and take a photo of myself looking in huge mirrored doors of the built in wardrobe that flanks one side of the room.

This isn't a photo for likes or comments, but a representation of how it has shaped me over the last few months, the difference that having a huge mirrored surface opposite the doorway of the bedroom has made in my life.

For context, I moved into this house in January. It's an eight month house sit for the parents of one of my best friends. It's coming to and end quite soon.

I remember the very first evening I was here. Getting undressed and ready for bed and suddenly seeing my naked body lit up in front of the mirror in the yellowy light of the ceiling lamp.

I remember at the time, I froze momentarily then slightly recoiled. Feeling totally exposed even in my own private company.

I wasn't used to seeing my own body in its 'wholeness' and it caught me by surprise.

That in itself fascinated me. The fact that I'm so used to seeing parts of myself. Fragments at a time. Abstract. In small mirrors in the bedroom or in the bathroom, or when looking down as myself, a distorted world view.

Yet I’d so rarely had the chance to appreciate my full form.

Looking at photos of our whole selves is different, we're posed and poised. Viewed rom a distance on a small on a screen. Clothed.

But here I was. Full on, full out. Unprepared and unposed in all my naked glory, standing opposite myself. Looking myself in the eye. There was no hiding even though that urge rose within me.

The next evening when it happened again. I noticed my resistance. I noticed the surprise. I noticed the feelings of uncertainty and unfamiliarity with my own body. Unfamiliar with the body I'm so used to, the body that I have lived in for 36 years, yet I just never really 'see'.

In all its completeness.

So I got curious. I started turning around in front of the mirror. Looking at myself from as many angles as possible. The light changing and creating pattern and shape rippling over me. Twisting, tensing, flexing, looking at the curves, the folds and muscle tone and observing the wonder of the musculoskeletal system that makes the human form.

What magic!

It became quite a fun game. Creating a sense of familiarity and connection with myself, and in doing so a sense of compassion. And slowly but surely a deeper sense of self love.

Self love.

Not that I'd ever really hated my body, not at all. I simply hadn't ever really appreciated it because I'd never seen it, not really, not like this. I’d been so disconnected from my wholeness. I had no idea what I was missing.

But every single night and every single morning as I got undressed, I had the chance to observe my body in it's naked glory. Those moments became such a celebration. A private moment of connection and respect.

As the days and the weeks and months passed during my time in this house, I learned to celebrate the glory, the fullness and the completeness of my body in a way I'd never previously had an opportunity to, in a way that I'd never even seen as necessary.

I can honesty say it has been a beautiful journey.

So, this morning, when I woke up and sat on the edge of my bed, I suddenly had the spontaneous urge to grab my phone and take a photo. Not for likes, but to record this moment. Record how I feel to be in acceptance and celebration, in fascination and curiosity and at one with my body.

This beautiful, powerful body.

As I shot this photo, I had literally just woken up seconds before. My hair isn't brushed. I have an old T shirt and knickers on. Nothing else. I have bruises on my knees where I fell over. The bed isn't made. The room isn't particularly tidy.

But none of that matters.

Because this isn't for likes. This isn't an ego trip.

This is showing up as me in the moment. The spontaneous, raw, vulnerable, unfiltered beauty of me.

A celebration and a call to love in seeing ourselves. Fully.

Because I want you to see yourself. Fully.

I want you to find a huge mirrored wardrobe of your own and stand naked, to look yourself in the eye and truly see and celebrate the depth and fullness of who you are, because it's glorious. Truly and utterly glorious.

And it might take a while to get comfortable with that. That's ok. Stay with it. Lean into those feelings. Because with repeated exposure and a sense of curiosity, it will come. I promise.

I didn't realise before that I didn't love my body but it's simply because I never truly gave myself a chance to.

I'm giving myself that chance today.

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