Judge and Jury.

I love sharing with you all the changes I’ve experienced since leaving New York. That is, after all, the basis of this here blog, right? I escaped New York and I’m telling you how goes it. Well, I’m still here, so there’s that. But something else occurred to me this week as I was in Target, doing my usual therapy shopping. I’m a hell of a lot less judgmental since leaving New York. New York living is so dependent on class, status, and material possessions. The south, well… the south just isn’t as much.

Reservations at the hottest restaurants. Playdates at the hippest kid venues. Getting your toddler into the right daycare. Seriously. New York can make you feel really bad about your place on the social food chain. Or, it can make you really hungry and motivated to achieve more. Or, it can make you feel entitled, elitist and unable to relate or understand how the world outside of your bubble does more with less, and lives to tell the tale.

Case in point: As a New Yorker, I used to be so judgmental about the way people presented themselves, or how their kids acted in public, or the style of Christmas decorations or lights they used on their house. (Like, colored Christmas lights used to feel like an affront on all my senses. Who would do such a thing to their home?! But more importantly, why did I care?)

But now, I’m so less affected by the things that don’t matter as much. (Unnnlesssss we’re talking about anything Walmart-related. And then I’m still my judgy self. Sorry not sorry.) What DOES affect me? My kids happiness and health. My friends’ and family’s happiness and health. Stress levels. Taking on too much. Things in our culture that make me angry, like guns and violence. But things that are inconsequential? Less likely to get a reaction out of me.

That’s just how I roll in the south. Sorry, New York. But I’m sending my judgmental side back to you in a FedEx Express box. Enjoy!