grade me not
So once, when some (!!) people said and acted really insensitive and stupid to me, I cried. Not right in-front of them. I was hypocritical, weak, and dumb. So I acted like it was ok but once home I burst into tears. And so poor R had to comfort me and he told me, "In times like this, you really get to see the true mettle of people. You know what they are really made of."
Whoa. That made me tilt my chin up. Huh! Now I have been placed in a position where I can judge and evaluate people, woo-hoo! So, based on what they said or did not say; did or did not do, I get to grade them, yes?? I get to tick off what they are made of. Heck, if they appear in-front of me wearing a shirt the wrong hue or a pair of sandals I just hate, I can give them a thumbs-down and put them on a black list with skull-bones and hissing snakes as border. Wow. It's like getting a new toy.
Except, very soon, a small little voice in me asked, "So you think you can judge them because your baby died?" I have flashbacks of soap operas or movie scenes wherein one accused the other, "Don't think you can judge me just because you are blond/taller/bigger/fair-skinned/older/skinnier/younger/drive a fancy car/have a PhD, etc!!!" There was not one that said, "Don't think that you have a right to judge me because your baby died!"
No, I have no right. Sure, there are dumb ones, clueless ones, obnoxious ones, whatever ones, but I am sure at one point or other in my life I was also dumb/clueless/irritating/annoying/obnoxious/crappy, etc.
So, I was deflated. Chin down to chest. I slumped back down into my little corner to ponder life after a loss.
BUT. I was not left alone.
There are people who think they can judge me because my baby died. Grade me even. You know, how well, or how awful I am coping? How slow I am getting out of my grief. How bad I am mothering my two living daughters. How I could have done more. How the house could have been neater, since I do not have three, but only two kids to handle. How I must be in self-denial. How I am ruining my children's lives. How I should be over it already, and quick! have another new baby! How I think too much. How I am thinking the wrong way. How I am blah-blah-blah or how I am not blah-blah-blah. I am either too blah-blah or not blah-blah enough.
I don't need all these evaluations, judgments, or advice. Unless I ask. And sometimes, I do like to know, like if I totally am beyond salvation; if I should just go jump off a cliff already, or if i have a halo above my head. If the cake I baked is out-of-this-world or awful-inedible. If I really should get some hot-pink lacy underwear, or if my face resembles a prune by now. But, often I get unasked for judgments and evaluations, and even more harassments, without my asking. I just need to stand there and whoosh--- watch out! there they come.
Why? Is it just an expression of the overwhelming need to be of help? And thus, they have to give an opinion of how I am doing? Is it an art of conversation? To tell the other where they are on a certain scale? (Good/not bad/ failure/ try again)
How do they know? What makes them the expert? What makes them think that they know? But really, if they wanna help... come and clean my house. Come and cook my meals and do the dishes and scrub out the kitchen grout. Buy me a good supply of expensive chocolates and/or truffles (dark ones ONLY, please). But really, if you cannot bring me back my baby, just sit there. Just hold my space.
Sigh. I just want to be a human being. That means, I am not static, even though it may look that way. But bear in mind that you are not in my skin, and looks are deceiving. Being means to be, and that -ing part means ongoing. To me it means constant change of the state of what one is. From one second to the next; from one breath to the next. Even if I choose to remain in a state for a longer period, it is my decision. It is my journey to walk. (If you tell me everything happens for a reason, then maybe there is also a reason why I need to freakin' dwell.) The best you can do is walk alongside with your mouth shut, unless I am stepping right off the cliff; or a bear is breathing down my neck already or you can run and get me water when I run out; or keep watch for me when I need to sleep. And you know what, journeys are not necessarily made in a straight line. Not every journey is a straight line between destination A and B. Sometimes it is a circular path that needs to fold over and revisit some places. I sometimes think it is a spiral, always coming back to some same points, but passing with a distance, and it is never static. Although sometimes I do need to sit down. Or lay across the road. (If you come across me like that, step over. Please do not try to evaluate if I am dead or alive.)
But please, let me be. Just like I have no right to judge you because I lost my baby; you have no right to judge me because you have not lost a baby. Especially if you do not get it. Don't tell me what to do.
I know, the line between being concerned and being intrusive is very fine. Sometimes it takes intrusion, a gentle one, to express concern. It truly is not easy being a friend to one who walks the grieving/healing path. So I thank all those who have done so and for being so patient and wonderful. And those who have stuck around despite my sour face the last months? Precious.
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What about you? Do you feel judged and evaluated? Do you feel concern is sometimes intrusive? What are the best ways someone can express concern without making you feel evaluated or judged?



Reader Comments (7)
I have most definitely felt judged. I don't begrudge anyone else their own demons, but I can't stand it when those demons lash out at me for the crime of reminding people of their own stuffed-away hurts. It's immeasureably sad, and always leaves me feeling muzzled and mocked.
What hurts is that I feel fiercely proud of how I made it through last year, and the person I am now because of the birth of Liam and Ben. I don't regret a single thing except for the complication and injury that started it all. So to have people in my life make me feel small, who try to shrug off what happened because they feel like it's the dignified thing to do? It infuriates me. As if I don't feel turned inside-out enough already, this has been like a forced vinegar bath, stinging all over.
The best way someone can express concern is to state it simply - "My god, that was a horrible year for you... we heard about what happened.. how are you doing now?" - and then just listen without trying to tell me that everything's going to be okay.
Great post Janis.
It's shocking to be made to feel like a freak in the face of devastating, gut-wrenching tragedy by those who pretend not to see you or just nod, careful to avoid eye contact, and hurry on. I do judge those people. I think how unbelievably ignorant and small they are. Sometimes I take a mental-health day off from work, just too sick and tired of pretending to be thrilled about everyone's normal, happy news. I know that I am jealous and resentful, and I dislike that about myself. When they talk about how wonderful it is to have all that I've lost and even email photos as proof, I find it hard to behave as expected. I initially tried to address the problem by getting drunk, but that just made everything worse, even more depressing, if possible. When all is said and done, nothing helps, except reading the pain that drips from the blogs of mothers, who, unfortunately, "get it."
Six women of strength, great writers all, bonded by the unspeakable horror of losing a dear child or children, reaching out to other miserable, lonely, weary, sometimes hopeless warriors, who must somehow find the courage to soldier on.
Thank you all for being here and telling it so poignantly like it really is. Each one of you are always in my heart.
I love this post. It helped me to understand my own (admittedly idiosyncratic) responses more clearly.
I have a lot of trouble distinguishing between sympathy and scorn, while concern often feels terribly intrusive. When someone asks "Niobe, how are you feeling?" what I hear is "Niobe, you are a pathetic weakling." When someone asks "What can I do to help?" what I hear is "Looks like you're too stupid to be able to deal with things by yourself."
I feel judged constantly. All I wish was that some one would give me a list of do's and don'ts on how to grieve for the loss of a baby. Because apparently I am doing it all wrong.
I'm currently living out this kind of battle with my MIL. Apparently I am rude, inconsiderate and trying to control my children. Oh, and I act like a 13-year-old and everything that I am doing do her is because I don't get along with my mom (I do, actually). She has been "nothing but loving to me" and if my feelings got hurt then I'm the one that hurt them. Well, that's the watered-down, condensed version.
That's what I get for telling her that something she had said in email hurt my feelings. That's what I get for sticking up for my son with Down syndrome against his CRAZY PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE GRANDMOTHER. My husband barely survived her insanity growing up. How can my son manage it? He doesn't have his father's genius. I'm praying that she'll just ice me out so that all her finger pointing will stop.
Sorry, I vented there. I know it's not the same, but damn, why can't people just be nice? We are all going through our own problems. What's with the need to tell people how to feel?
And sorry for the shorter name and lack of email/url. But I don't need her googling me right now.
Oh, yikes.... feel free to vent here, K. We totally get it. I know what you mean about being iced out as opposed to enduring the commentary. Come here anytime you like... xo
"Are you doing ok? Because you've been kind of ..." That's what my mother in law said to me the other day at her house. You could tell she wanted to finish the sentence but couldn't do it with the appropriate word.
No, I'm not doing ok, I miss my daughter, I swing between wanting to cling to my son and fast-forwarding him to the part where I lose him one way or another. Your son, my husband, hasn't been "here" with me in weeks. He plays the computer, buys pizza instead of eating dinner, and only takes over things with your grandson when I specifically ask him to. You think I should be ok? You think I should be over it? I'm having a bad day, I needed time to myself today and I certainly won't get it here. Nobody ever tells us what's going on here, meals aren't ever on a normal kind of schedule, and it's ridiculously noisy with the TV on full blast hurting my ears. But no, today I'm supposed to be the usual helpful daughter in law, getting up and doing the dishes or whatever while all the men, including the one who definitely knows better, sit there and ignore each other in favor of the television? I can't do it today, if it seems like I am being "um...." then yes, I am. I can't help it. I don't want to be here. I want to be off in a dark place somehere, curled up alone. Oh, and by the way, now we're finally getting to mourn the baby we lost that was "just" a miscarriage, the one nobody ever talks about. I'm only back to work because I have to be, if I had my choice I would still be taking time off but it was pretty obvious it can't be handled otherwise. Just because I can simulate a normal person most of the time does not mean I am "normal" anymore.
But no, I spared her feelings. "Oh, I guess I must have strained myself gardening."