To judge or not to judge?

Some people get wet, others just feel the rain. -Bob Marley

I came across this quote while I was, well, searching for quotes, and this seemed to blend in with my mood perfectly.

How nice would it be to not get affected by the thousands of people around you, trying to mould you to their way of thinking, trying to replace the person that you are, with a robotic version of what society approves?
When are people right, anyway? What they call 'constructive criticism' might just as well be their mad jealousy speaking, or their bias. How do we differentiate the truth from lies, the honesty from the prejudice, or the friendship from hatred? It's never easy to be who you are, it's never easy to simplify people's opinions, and it's never easy to not get hurt.

I have a friend who faces quite a similar problem. She's a stellar speaker, and can host any event, and ceremonies with professional ease. This makes her popular with the teachers, especially since she's responsible and diligent, and she had even been nominated for Head Girl, though that bit didn't work out. Slowly but steadily, the barest trace of condescension could be detected in her voice, and the hint of contempt in her behaviour towards others.

Though I remained on excellent terms with her, what made me uncomfortable was how she clung to me like I was her lifeline, and her possessiveness towards me. I talked to people who knew her and all claimed that she was rude and pompous towards her fellows. Determined to bring the issue to a positive end, I stated the facts as I knew them, bluntly, and to her face. As I expected, she flared up and demanded to know all about the source of these accusations. But, I said, that was hardly the point.

A few days later, I saw a marked change in her, brought about by much determination and force. It was unnatural the way she made her voice sound hearty and warm when she was with others. I let her carry on like that a bit until one day, today to be precise, she and I stopped to chat at an old haunt of ours. That is where she dropped the act.

'I am who I am,' she said, 'and people must accept me the way I am! What you heard, what you were told, that was all just one side of the coin, and you formed your opinions about me without considering my side of the story. I understand that I ought to maintain good relations with my peers, but if they are spiteful, and speak out of jealousy, I cannot help.I did not, however, hurt anyone intentionally.'

Then she looked out of the window with a somewhat faraway look on her face and spoke of a friend with whom she had fallen out; a girl, who, incidentally, was good friends with me.

'We bonded instantly, because we had similar problems in our families... exactly the same, actually.'

That made me curious. I prodded her some more, and she finally came out with it.

'My dad is a weak man. He lacks a personality, lacks vitality, and has even teetered on the edge of considering suicide sometimes. My mother, is the exact opposite; she is strong, a woman of character, and an unbreakable will. And after their marriage, frustrated by her husband's unhappiness, and desperate for love, another man came into my mother's life, who torments her till this day, just because she made the mistake of falling in love with him. He has a wife and a daughter, who my mother practically brought up, even going to the extent of ignoring me in the process. Maybe that's what makes me feel older, more mature sometimes.Life is not exactly perfect for me, and pardon me if I have seemed too possessive towards you; it's just that I am so afraid of losing the people I care about, so afraid, all the time.'

The bell rang for classes and there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise. I looked at my friend and smiled, and together, we walked back to our rooms.