Judgemental Of Other People example essay topic

Tisch School of the Arts Writing the Essay MW, 11: 00 Wesley Webb Mirrors X osha Roque more We are all brought into the world the same way, innocent, naive, guile and unaware. The only things we know are these which we are taught. We are brought into this world to be influenced by our surroundings and in turn to let our surroundings shape our character. As young children we are free of inhibitions and worries. We are self-centered in the sense that we don't care how our actions affect other people; we only care about what we want to do and how we want to do it. We learn that other people also have feelings and we learn how to take those feelings into consideration.

In turn, we get our feelings hurt and we begin to hurt other peoples feelings. When we were young, we saw people, places and things for what they were. We possessed a fearlessness that only the blissfully ignorant experience, we did not know what could hurt us so we walked around as if we were invisible. Our eyes were clear and not convoluted by prejudice, hate or judgement.

When I was a little girl, my mother used to tell me daily that I had pretty, black legs. My father would ask me, "Who is the most beautiful girl in the whole, wide world?" I would respond, "Me!" I believed it. When I was young I must have exuded a high level of confidence because it was drilled into my head that nobody in the world was prettier than I was. I kept this mentality throughout my childhood and junior high years. In high school I suffered from moderate acne, I had a random tooth growing from my gums, my eyebrows were thick and un arched and I had no breasts. Though I was flaw infested, I had dreams of becoming a model and being the object of lust for millions of teenage boys.

The standards of beauty vary from culture to culture. White America idealizes tall, thin, big-boobed, collagen injected lipped, blonde bombshells. Black America puts thick bottomed, curvaceous, voluptuous, one cheeseburger away from being fat women on a pedastool. Other important aspects to black people are skin color and facial features. If one is any darker than the color of a brown paper bag, there is absolutely no way that they will be commonly accepted as pretty. Full lips are made fun of, and it is considered a rare delicacy to have light brown, hazel or green eyes.

Overall, the closer one looks to white the better. In my freshman year of high school, my best friend was four feet eleven inches tall and 160 pounds, all of which were in her backside. She was somewhat of an extreme version of Jennifer Lopez. She had a carmel complexion and her eyes were a crisp, olive green. She was the epitome of beauty, and the dream wife of black teenage boys across America, or at least throughout Los Angeles, where we resided. There I stood, five feet ten inches tall, 130 pounds which couldn't be found anywhere; I was chocolate colored with large, expressive black eyes.

I had no problem with my looks until somebody told me that there was a problem with the way I looked. One day carmel cutie with the big booty and I were hanging out with a group of guys. We were all talking about what we wanted to pursue in life and when it was my turn, I confidently stated that I wanted to be a model. The whole crowd looked at me in disbelief, and I proceeded to explain that I wanted to grace the covers of magazines worldwide and be a prominent figure on the catwalk. They all looked at me as if I were kidding. One boy mustered up enough courage to say, "No offense, but you " re not exactly the model type.

I mean you " re too dark skinned, your eyes are hella big, your lips are way too big, and you ain't really got no titties. I mean you pretty and all that, but you ain't Halle Berry pretty. You gotta be Halle Berry pretty to be a model". No offense? At least he attempted to apologize before crushing my hopes, dreams, and self-esteem.

Why would anyone say anything like that to another person? What or who put him in the position to judge my looks? Who deems what is beautiful? And if one is not considered beautiful, do they deserve to be judged for that fact? From that day foward I began to carry a mirror in my purse; I felt the need to check how I looked every ten minutes because of the simple fact that I knew everyone was judging me. It never dawned on me that peoples judgements are solely based on opinion.

I always believed judgement to be fact and I often found myself confused. How could I be the prettiest girl in the whole wide world, and still be looked at as ugly? A truck drove past as I was walking home from school one day, the pedophile yelled at me, "Damn, you have thick thighs!" I thought nothing of it. When I was a toddler I had an infatuation with looking at myself in the mirror. This infatuation turned into an obsession over the years. I have never been completely comfortable with myself.

I have always been taller than everyone else, I have always less developed than everyone else, I have always stood out from everyone else. I have never been completely uncomfortable with myself, I was always told I was striking, I was always told I had charisma; I was always told I was tall and model thin. I was never told I had thick thighs. I walked into my house, instead of going to the kitchen for my usual afterschool snack, I went directly to my room to look at my best friend and worst enemy, Mr. Mirror. Up until that day, when I looked in the mirror I made faces, sang songs, and felt completely free of inhibitions.

Today I found myself looking solely at my body. I gazed at myself from the front for one minute. Usually I saw a tall, slim girl, but not today. Today I saw a fat roll protruding from my lower stomach.

I figured my eyes were playing tricks on me so I turned sideways to see my profile, and the fat was still there. I slid my hands down my stomach to touch my blubber, it was soft and jiggly. I began to pull it upward as to see what my stomach would look like if it were not there. As I stared at myself, I noticed that my thighs were rather thick.

There was no space in between them, they were touching. I quickly walked away from the mirror, but like a magnet, it drew me back for some more self criticism. I removed my pants and looked at my hips, to my surprise there was a road map on them. Were these the infamous stretch marks that only obese people possessed? Why did I have them? Am I obese?

Am I fat? I thought I was skinny, I want to be a model, I can not be fat. My heart began to beat faster, I could feel the tears swelling in my eyes. I immediately dropped to the floor and began to do crunches. I have never had patience, I needed a quick fix.

I had to rid myself of all body fat, and crunches and exercise would be a slow, time consuming process and I needed these rooms gone by the next day! I sat on my bed, frustrated and saddened. Then I had a brilliant idea. There were a couple of girls in my school who were chubby, they became bulimic and lost weight very efficiently. I figured I could do it too. I walked into the bathroom and stood over the toilet.

I began to think of what I had eaten throughout the day. A bagel for breakfast, too many carbohydrates, a slice of pizza for lunch, way too many calories and a Dr. Pepper, far too much sugar. I had done this to myself. I made myself fat and it was now my responsibility to make myself skinny again. I kneeled on the ground and stuck my index and middle fingers into my throat. I gagged, but no vomit.

I tried again, and I failed. I must have tried a million times and it still did not work. The bathroom tile was beginning to feel uncomfortable on my knees so I got up and went back to my room. I felt like a failure. This was the first, last and only time that I have ever attempted purging.

I was 14 years old, five feet ten inches, 130 pounds. Many people fall victim to being too hard on themselves. I am my own worst enemy. I probably judge myself more than other people judge me. By sophomore year, I built a hard protective layer of skin to cover up the open wounds of judgement. I began to judge other people.

I did not do it in a malicious way, I just used to get a good laugh in making fun of people. Me and my friends used to go to the mall to window shop and people watch. We would get dressed up in our best daytime attire and venture to the shopping / social haven to see how many boys would ask usf or our numbers. I was always the funniest in the crew, but I always felt self-conscious.

I constantly wondered what people were thinking about me, but I told so many jokes that I appeared confident. For every person that passed us, I would pick apart their outfit, hair, face, skin and everything elses that is physically visible. I would heighten other peoples flaws by formulating millions of jokes, everyone would laugh and encourage me to do more. On one of our mall trips, we decided to bring along a new girl who did not typically hang out with us. Throughout the duration of the trip she remained quiet, the rest of the group members were doubled over in laughter at my hilariously mean and judgemental comments.

Out of the blue, the random new girls asked, "Why are you so judgemental of other people?" I did not know how to respond to that question because I did not feel that I was being judgemental. I responded", I am not being judgemental, But did you see her outfit, ? If you had seen her outfit then you would understand where I am coming from!" She then said", Just let people be, you would not like it if everyone you encountered was judging you". At that moment I suddenly felt like one of the people that used to make fun of me. I thought to myself, why am I doing this? What good is coming out of it?

How do I benefit from judging other people? These were all of the same questions that I posed in my mind when other people were judging me. I had switched to the other side and I suddenly felt guilty for doing to people what other people did to me that had hurt me so badly. Is it possible to look at life, people and situations for what they are worth? Is it possible to rid ourselves of judgement? I don't know if completely eliminating judgment is such a good idea.

We constantly use good judgment to help ourselves and other people. We have to judge situations that we are put in, we have to judge the people around us and we have to make self-judgments. If we do not make judgment at all, then we will be easily taken advantage of. We must learn to differentiate between positive judgment and hateful, malicious judgment.

When looking at the painting A Rose by Thomas P. Anshutz, I am automatically drawn to the grimace on the subjects face. She is looking at the viewer, and her eyes read that she does not want to be judged anymore. It is almost like she is upset with the viewers for looking at her in the painting. She seems fed up with being judged and trying to be figured out. People need to learn how to accept things simply for what they are. It is easy to be abstract, deep and complex.

It is challenging to be simple and not overly analytical. By leaving out personal judgemental opinions, we will begin to see the truth in everything. Our eyes will become clear again, and we will be able to see a clean and untainted version of the world and life.