Who Am I to Judge?

After a self-destructive former friend ended up in a coma, I’ve changed my stance

The other day I got the news that someone I didn’t really like anymore was in a motorcycle accident over the weekend and was currently in a coma.

It was estimated that she was going around 60 mph when she hit a tree.

The impact broke her full shield helmet. She flew out of her boots. Her face and jaws — and the rest of her body — have been all but crushed. There is swelling on her brain. The coma is not medically induced. In less than a week she’s had at least four surgeries and they’ve just gotten started.

Her name is Jennifer.*

In spite of almost ten years of being pissed off at Jennifer for being one of the most selfish and passive aggressive people I’ve ever met, I texted my family and asked them to pray for her.

I didn’t sugarcoat anything. “One of the people who had gone to our wedding and had sort of remained a friend for a while, even though she’s a big jerk, was in a motorcycle accident over the weekend and is in critical condition.”

I added, “She has been on a road to self-destruction for a long time.” I didn’t say that to win any points with God or my parents. Entirely, anyway. I said it mostly because I’ve been on that road and remember ignoring the DANGER AHEAD signs. But I still couldn’t help but feel a little smug that I’d found the exit ramp to a better place.

Then Mom, a clinical social worker, replied, “Usually people who are self-destructing are in a lot of personal pain.”

I paused and looked at her sentence.

Over the years it had become increasingly challenging to like Jennifer. She’s had a history of mistreating others, often publicly. She’s repeatedly insulted both my husband and me in front of friends. She’s taken advantage of mutual friends who were kind enough to give her a job after she was fired from the state. She cheated on her husband with her personal trainer and went so far as to bring the guy to parties and events. She had a husband who’d adored her and tried to give her everything she wanted, who even turned a blind eye when she said that her younger side guy was only her personal trainer. But nothing has ever been good enough for Jennifer. She has forever been chasing whatever she doesn’t have.

She’s also the only person I know who would dare grab a guy’s ass right in front of his wife. I was the wife. And my husband I aren’t swingers. And she knew that. I remember, quite vividly, the self-satisfied smile she shot me right before she did it. So there was that too.

So when she finally left her marriage and drove down to Orlando to live happily ever after with her new boyfriend, my husband and I were relieved that her ex could move on. And that she was now five hours away.

Not long after she moved, her personal trainer boyfriend decided to leave her, so the happily ever after story stopped being written.

Serves her right, I said at the time. She’d treated her poor husband, and many others, like garbage and deserved to be alone.

She deserved to fail.

When I heard about the accident, though, those words didn’t enter my mind. As much as I didn’t like her, there was no room for thoughts like that.

Jennifer may have been a real bitch at times. Maybe she did take risks with relationships, ones that ended up just as totaled as the Mustang she wrecked over a year ago. Maybe she’d flown too close to the sun. Maybe she was at fault for this accident.

But I didn’t even pause to consider any of that when I got the news. And after my mother noted that Jennifer was likely a hurting soul, I was too busy thinking about other things.

I thought about how she’d just recovered from reconstructive surgery after a mastectomy.

I thought about how hard she’d worked to get to be as fit as I’d ever seen her.

I thought about her beautiful face and tattoo artwork that were now lacerated and broken.

I thought about her family. Her mother. Her ex, who still cared about her.

I thought about the pain she must have been trying to escape. The void that she may have been trying to fill. And that she might not ever have the chance to fix anything.

I thought, she might not ever wake up. And then I choked up. That shocked the hell out of me.

No wonder Mom’s words shook me. Up until Jennifer’s accident, I had forgotten that I was living in a glass house.

I have a different personality and haven’t made decisions like Jennifer has, but I’m pretty sure there are plenty of people who have wished bad karma on me. I’d made decisions that could have easily landed me in jail. Stupid, reckless decisions that were all about me. I had some seriously erratic behavior that, unbeknownst to my friends and immediate family, resulted in me giving up my children for two years and hitting the self-destruct button.

Who was I to say “serves them right” about this girl, or anyone else? Whenever I said that, I was giving myself a pat on the back. I was more noble, more thoughtful, nicer, more in control. I was better than they were.

But was I? Did I always have my s**t together? Was I always as comfy as a fluffy cat sitting on a velvet cushion from Pottery Barn?

How was I doing up there on my giant building of a horse, looking down at the peasants below?

People sitting astride high horses fail to notice that the people down below might be on the ground for reasons that can’t be seen. It’s only when we dismount — purposely or involuntarily — that we have a chance to consider the reasons someone like Jennifer ended up in the situation they’re in. There are always exceptions, of course. Some people, like my sociopath ex-boyfriend, are just awful people with no tragic backstory. But I’d wager that many people are a lot like Jennifer. I don’t know all that much about her childhood and life with her family, but I know enough.

A condition in one part of the body can manifest itself as pain in another part (referred pain). When someone has a heart attack, for example, they might feel shoulder or arm pain.

Like referred pain in the body, emotional pain can manifest itself in reckless, self-destructive behavior. It happened with me due to years of abuse. It doesn’t excuse my behavior, but it does explain it. If Jennifer had been through similar circumstances, no wonder she was insecure and constantly needed validation from other people — particularly guys. That was me.

It could be me lying there in a coma with compound fractures and a broken face and people telling one another that karma finally caught up with me. Former friends, fake friends, and random people who knew me from a distance could look at each other smugly and smirk at my getting what I deserved. No prayers said for me, no positive energy sent my way, no compassion felt on my behalf. Maybe from my family and some friends, but not from the people who don’t like me anymore. Or never liked me.

I grew up hearing this story in Sunday School:

“At dawn [Jesus] appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them. The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, ‘Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?’

He straightened up and said to them, ‘If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.’

Those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. Jesus straightened up and asked her, ‘Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?’

‘No one, sir,’ she said.

‘Then neither do I condemn you,’ Jesus declared.

John 3:8–11 (emphasis mine)

I’m not going to be like one of those self-righteous stone throwers. I know what it’s like to be that woman.

And I’d want someone to give me a break, too.

It’s easy to dislike someone, to look down on them because of their actions against you or other people. I’d argue that it’s second nature because it’s a sort of defense mechanism. No one wants to be hurt or see their friends hurt by someone like Jennifer. It’s hard to shove those feelings aside and feel bad for people like her who, in your opinion, did something like this to themselves. It’s often harder to feel sympathy or compassion or hope.

It’s easier to pick up that stone. Especially when you forget that you’re surrounded by glass on all sides. And it’s so easy to forget.

So after I got the news about the crash, my hard feelings that had been building for almost a decade began to soften. When Mom told me what I apparently need to hear, I realized that Jennifer needed my compassion. She doesn’t need one more person saying that it serves her right. She’s lying there in a coma and will likely never be the same again. At this point, negative energy does nothing for her. Or anyone else.

The least I can do going forward is to feel compassion for Jennifer. Her emotional pain that could have started years ago may have eventually led to her hitting that tree at 2:35 a.m. this past Friday.

For me to appoint myself as a judge in my own Supreme Court, even when I present myself sufficient evidence — according to me — that this defendant got what she deserved, I’d have to deny my own hubris. Meaning I’d have to lie to myself.

My glass house was briefly on the market, but after writing this, I’ve slated it for demolition.

Update: Due to extensive brain damage, Jennifer was removed from life support and passed away on August 16, 2020. I am extremely saddened about her death and hope that she is resting in peace.

*Name changed to protect privacy.