Why Women Judge Other Women and What The Path to Self-Liberation Looks Like
I used to be a professional at judging other women.
There was always something other women weren’t doing right.
There was always something they needed to do better.
The way she parents her children.
The way she does business.
The way she talks to her boyfriend.
The way she looks at me in the elevator.
The way she hands me the coffee.
The way she asks me to do my job.
The way she wears that hideous dress.
Why does she have to be such a bitch all the time?
I judged women I knew and I judged women I didn’t know.
I judged all of them.
The women I admired were few and far between and, eventually, they too failed.
And so I was constantly disappointed in women.
I was constantly disappointed in the feminine.
And deep down inside I was also disappointed in myself, although I didn’t know it back then.
Sitting there on my throne of feminine isolation and toxicity pretending I’m so righteous and I know it all.
Being the judge of everyone is bloody draining.
It sucks the life out of you.
It turns you into a little monster that can’t wait to spit some fire on someone else.
Something is always off.
Being judgmental is addictive.
It’s like a drug. You can’t get enough of it.
You constantly need a hit.
You can’t live without it.
Because without it…
…
…
…
Who are you without it?
How can you look in the mirror and see yourself for who you truly are if you’re constantly preoccupied with how other women act, speak, and look?
You neither have time nor courage to look into your own reflection.
And you don’t really want to.
You think you’re kind of perfect but deep down inside you fear being exposed.
Discovered as a fraud.
Behind these masks of perfection and doing everything right all the time sits a little girl who is scared.
Who wants attention.
And who wants love.
Who feels the need to constantly judge others just so that no one will judge her.
God forbid anyone discovers her insecurities, her vulnerabilities, and the skeletons in her closet!
And when she slips for one second and becomes vulnerable and her slightly imperfect side comes out — it’s a total disaster.
It’s game over.
Now they know who she really is.
A human.
Just like everyone else.
Who is sometimes awkward and anxious.
Who wears that really tight dress that doesn’t really feel comfortable because she thinks her ass looks good in it.
Who also has bad hair days.
Who also makes mistakes.
Who also cries at night.
And who feels a big black hole in her chest when she’s lonely.
JUST.
LIKE.
THE.
REST.
OF.
US.
But she can’t really admit it and show it to the world.
She can’t even admit it to herself.
Because it’s too painful to be exposed.
She needs to hold it all together.
Be tight.
Rigid.
Stuck up.
No one can relax around her.
Because everyone’s being judged.
She fears judgment therefore she judges.
And so when she meets a woman who is fully herself she can’t stand it.
She starts picking out her flaws and insecurities immediately.
She’s on an exposé mission.
Judgment and shame become exposed in the face of true vulnerability and depth.
And when she does find that extra wrinkle on that woman’s imperfect face or that visible hair clip extension she puts her claws into it and holds on to it like her life depends on it.
That’s her secret weapon.
Exposing other people’s weaknesses.
Exposing other women’s weaknesses.
She thinks everyone is out there to get her.
She knows she can’t trust anyone.
Judging humans for being humans.
So it’s a hard life.
Because it’s a job.
And it’s a miserable job that no one is actually paying her for.
In fact, she’s paying dearly for it herself.
Judgment takes effort.
But she lives that way until one day…
She goes to a yoga class.
Or a three-day retreat in Bali.
Or a workshop on vulnerability.
And, little by little, her chakras open up.
Her hips stay opened long enough in Baddha Konasana.
Her pelvic floor releases emotions.
She has no idea what’s happening but she knows something’s definitely shifting.
She holds that mini cobra pose long enough so that her heart really cracks open.
And she realizes that perhaps there is another way.
A much easier way to do life and to be a woman.
To let that shit go.
And she starts to wonder where does all this judgment come from and why is she so picky particularly towards women?
So she goes on a journey.
And after reading many self-development books, listening to heart-opening meditations on a fancy app, attending seminars, and working with coaches, she realizes that the main reason why all her life she made it her mission to judge others is that she’s constantly judging herself.
Because growing up, she hasn’t seen healthy models of self-love, self-esteem, and self-worth.
Especially in women.
She hasn’t seen women treating themselves with compassion, respect, and having boundaries.
She hasn’t witnessed healthy feminine role models who are full in themselves and don’t need others’ approvals to be who they are.
She hasn’t been around true sisterhood. True friendship. True unconditional love.
“Conditions” were the driving force of her life.
If you are a good girl, people will like you.
If you don’t disappoint your parents, they will love you.
If you’re constantly praised, only then you’re good enough.
If you behave the way that I like, you’ll get dessert.
If you get good grades, you’ll get into college.
If you get into college, you’ll get a good job.
If you get a good job, you’ll have a successful career.
If you have a successful career, you’ll be well-off and respected.
If you’re well-off and respected….
Then I’ll be proud of you.
Then you’ll know you’re good enough.
Then you’ll know you deserve love.
Then you’ll know you’re worth it.
But, unfortunately, when you get there that big black hole of not-enoughness is still sitting waiting for the next condition to fulfill so it can have a treat.
Because it’s trained to do so.
And so she takes a step out of her life story and out of the drama, and she simply looks at this whole conditional life that she has been living and she decides that enough is enough.
That she is enough.
She decides to drop all the IFs and see what happens.
After much self-discovery and healing that helps her shed the shabby old skin of conditions, she finally realizes that she’s free.
That freedom is the highest of virtues.
To be free is to let others be free.
To let go of the need to criticize.
To see the flaws in others and yourself.
Acceptance.
Flow.
It is what it is.
We are where we’re at.
This too shall pass.
And so she starts to flow.
With life, with herself, with other women, and the world.
She shows up to parties being at ease and without the need to comment on everything.
She doesn’t care what others wear, say, or how they breathe.
She notices it and she might not like it or agree with it but she doesn’t feel the need to always be right or be perfect.
She doesn’t care much.
She is totally enjoying herself.
She’s laughing and she’s being.
She’s even dancing!
Freely exposed.
Her movement is smooth and light.
She’s healed the feminine within her.
She now knows the power of letting go, receiving, and surrender.
She starts gaining lots of GOOD, SOLID female friends who are there for her in the most unexpected and delightful ways.
She gives without expecting things in return.
And she has mastered the art of receiving.
From herself, from the world, and from men.
She starts attracting men who’re not only good enough but better than ever.
She doesn’t think about “getting the guy” because all the guys are on a mission to get her.
Because she’s a rare breed of a woman who doesn’t need to control.
And the world needs more of these women who can just be themselves and lead in feminine ways.
The world needs more women who have healed their relationship to their inner feminine and, thus, to other women.
The world needs more women who are free to be who they are, unconditionally.
These women don’t need to compete with men.
These women don’t need to judge.
These women just are.
Fully themselves.
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