You think you’re being clear.
You’re not.
You’re being scared.
Scared, disguised as decisive. Trying to pass your opinions as truths.
Judgment is seductive like that.
It makes you feel like you’ve figured it out — who’s wrong, what others should do differently, what’s beneath you.
It hands you the illusion of clarity without the effort of curiosity.
“This is good.”
“That’s bad.”
“I just want what’s best for them.”
“I’d never do that.”
Sure. But what if that certainty isn’t clarity — just comfort?
Here’s the difference:
Opinion says: “I like blue.”
Judgment says: “Blue is the best.”
One invites me into your world. The other builds a wall around it.
Now step back and look again. We’re doing this constantly.
In aesthetics. In dating. In politics.
In what we call “taste,” “intelligence,” or “boundaries.”
But often, those are just judgments hiding in socially acceptable skins.
We call it discernment. But half the time, it’s just a performance:
“I’m not like them.”
“I have standards.”
“I’ve evolved.”
No you haven’t. You’ve built a prettier cage.
And yes — judgment has its place. Boundaries matter. Preferences matter.
But pretending your discomfort is a universal law? That’s not depth. That’s cowardice.1
Here’s the truth: Most of what we call judgment is just the body avoiding vulnerability.
It’s easier to say “that’s pathetic” than “that scares me.”
It’s safer to say “they’re toxic” than “I didn’t know how to leave.”
So maybe it’s time to ask:
What would happen if you didn’t need to be right today?
If you didn’t need to win?
If you just said, “I don’t understand this — and maybe that’s okay”?
What would change — in our minds, our conversations, our systems — if we treated fewer things as evidence of wrongness, and more as evidence of difference?
Curioslip (n.)
The moment curiosity quietly exits a conversation, unnoticed — often replaced by performance, persuasion, or defense.
“They were still talking, but the curioslip had already happened.”
Specifear (n.)
The fear of naming one's true emotional experience, especially in social conflict — masked by generalizations or critique.
“Calling them toxic was easier than naming her specifear — that she felt small and replaceable.”
Discommirror (n.)
A moment or interaction that reflects one’s own discomfort — often triggering judgment instead of introspection.
“She called him selfish, but really he was a discommirror she wasn’t ready to look into.”
If this hit home — write me. I’m listening.
And yes, this is a judgment. Did it offend you?