can’t believe she’s staying in that big house. Surely she’d be better to move to something smaller without all those memories.
I can’t believe she won’t write in that journal I gave her. She should write her memories down. You’d think she owes Greg that much. (I do write them down … but not to share in that journal).
Why isn’t she dating? She’s too choosy if you ask me. She should find someone new and get over it already.
Did she just say she’d put her name on a dating site? Goodness me! Greg’s not even been dead for 2 years. You’d think she’d show some respect.
She is too boring. She needs to lighten up a little and go out and have some fun.
I can’t believe she left her kids with her parents so she could go out and party with her friends. She should put her kids first.
and my very favourite:
Greg would have wanted her to…..
Sound familiar?
Don’t we all hate it when other people make judgements on our decisions when they don’t understand the particular circumstances that lead us to those decisions?
Yet we all make them…..
That guy who cut you off in traffic – well he’s an idiot who doesn’t value his life.
That needy friend – well she doesn’t have to deal with half of what I’m dealing with. Who is she to complain?
I’ve made them about other people and I’m not proud of that, but I usually try keep mine in my head and remember that it’s not my place to judge someone else’s life choices and decisions and point them out to everyone at every opportunity.
When a beautiful-but-troubled celebrity died this week, I was gobsmacked at the judgements on her lifestyle that flowed quick and fast. Assumptions were made about her death when …as we well know …. the coroner wouldn’t have even had a chance to establish a cause of death at that time. People forgot (or chose to ignore) that she was just a person underneath all the fame. A person subject to the same faults as the rest of us.
Nobody is perfect.
Nobody.
We are all fighting our own battles, doing the best we can on what we’ve got.
….and I’m going to try and remember that the next time a judgement about someone else’s life choices reaches my lips.