Excuse the Soapbox.

I was discussing my new friend Stacy who thinks I'm out to get all psoriasis stricken people with my old friend and co-worker Andrew. Andrew says, "Well. You do call yourself a princess on the blog."

Andrew has never read my blog. Nor, apparently, does he understand the finest form of humor -- sarcasm.

I hate to keep blathering on about my hate comment, but it got me thinking about judgments and how insanely wrong people can be while believing that they are right.

As you guys know, I've been attending Al-Anon meetings on and off since this past February and it's taught me so much, but what stands out the most was this one woman who shared in a meeting. Obviously these are anonymous meetings and I would never betray that, so I'll give you an example of what happened, without actually relaying any factual details.

Being the daughter of a parent who was habitually late for everything, I am a huge stickler for promptness. So, when I attend my meetings I'm usually one of the first to show up. This sucks because I hate that feeling I get when I'm alone in a room and the others start showing up. I don't know how to handle it. Is it okay for me to just be silent? Do I have to make small talk? What if I'm in the meeting leader's chair and I don't know it? So much to deal with. However.

I also get to watch every single member of the group enter the room and -- up until this particular incident -- pass judgment on each of them. Usually these are mainly guesses at what their qualification is for being in the meeting ... a drunk boyfriend, a heroin-addict father, parents who were fabulous and threw great parties but were secretly chugging nail polish remover in the closet during the afternoons.

The last time I did this -- without mentally reprimanding and correcting myself -- was at one of my favorite meetings. A woman walked in and here's what my judgmental self saw: a girl wearing expensive, trendy clothes, carrying a fantastic bag that most likely held the keys to the cute convertible something or other that her rich daddy bought her. Her reason for coming to Al-Anon was that her Mom had taken to liking her Creme de Menthe a little too much ever since rich daddy hit his midlife crisis.

Of course, during the meeting this woman shared. An hour prior to the meeting she had escorted her severely drug addicted husband to rehab, again, after having to drag him onto a plane to return from their vacation in order to do so. This woman was broken and sad and I felt such shame and disgust at myself.

In a book I read a woman who had overcome her own addictions said that she makes a point to be kind and gracious to every single person she meets, regardless of how they behave towards her. Because, she had been on the edge. And she had been pushed over it by a stranger more than once. You never know what is going on inside a person. Yes, that guy may be sleeping on the train because he's nodding out from heroin. Or he may be exhausted from working a 19-hour shift to pay for diapers and daycare.

Yes, of course, I still catch myself making snap judgments about people I see on the street, but the point is, I catch myself. And I feel like that's a step in the right direction.