Tell Us: When Do You Feel Judged?

Denise

Tell Us: When Do You Feel Judged?

Denise
graphics-882726_640In December, my mom needed to have her blood and urine tested after an appointment with a nephrologist. Because the doctor's office is in the hospital, we were able to head straight to the lab for my mom's tests.

My mom struggled with the urine sample so I helped as best I could. My dad sat in the crowded waiting room. Once my mom was done, I looked for a nurse to show her the very little sample we collected to make sure they could use it.

My dad, in the meantime, worried about lunch and the (fake) Christmas tree I had for them in my car.

So, a second after I finished speaking with the nurse, my dad started his questions and commandments:

"Are you having lunch with us?"

"Park downstairs and I'll meet you and then we'll take the Christmas tree out of the car and up the elevator."

I offered my answers:

"I have to work so can't make lunch today. I will just park at the front door and use the luggage cart to bring in the tree." (I am often frustrated by my dad, who thinks I'm not a successful business person but who is always irritated that I have work to do.)

He argued:

"Just park in the garage and we'll carry it to the elevator."

Ugh. This is when I lose my patience at the thought of carrying a boxed Christmas tree from the car to the elevator when I can simply load it on a luggage cart. I figured it out so no one -- especially my dad -- has to carry the tree.

So, I argue back and win the argument.

And, that's when I remember we're standing in a crowded hospital waiting room arguing (loudly because my parents can't hear with or without their hearing aids) about lunch and a Christmas tree. I catch the eye of a woman, who's watching. Is she smiling because she understands? Or because she thinks I'm a horrible daughter?

If she wasn't judging me, I certainly was by this time.

So, I'd love to know: When do you feel judged?

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