As I type this definition, I find myself nodding in agreement with every phrase.
Delilah beats this into me. My quest for humility led me to a constant feeling of inferiority. No wonder I am afflicted with Impostor Syndrome.
Over time, this has manifested itself into imagining everyone thinks poorly of me: friends, neighbors, and even total strangers.
I remember powerwalking one morning and I saw a jogger on the other side of the street. I just knew he was passing judgment on my lack of physical prowess. Her form is awful. She has no speed. Does she really call that exercise?
In reality, I’m sure the jogger never noticed me.
I recently treated myself to an artist date. I went to the arboretum to take pictures. I passed another photographer with his tripod and long camera lens. I stopped to take a photo of the Japanese Bridge, one of my favorite spots, but Delilah ruined the peaceful moment: You are no photographer! Look at the way you hold the camera? Your stance is all wrong. You have no idea what she’s doing.
Nearly every week, as I sit quietly in Sunday church, I hear the quiet judgment whispering all around. Did you know she drinks wine with dinner? I don’t think she is a part of a Sunday School class. How can she call herself a Christian?!
Could it be that I am so fearful of what others think that I allow Delilah to hurt me instead? Do I erroneously think her judgment hurts less? And perhaps what is even worse… do I believe her judgment is the truth?
Judge not lest you be judged. I think that also includes ourselves.