Why We Judge

I’ve been thinking a lot about the root of conflict - or what we often call a lack of compatibility - whether in romantic partnerships, friendships, or families. I recently came across a podcast where Dr. Orna Guralnik (psychologist and therapist) mentioned something that really struck me: “the otherness of people is the hardest thing.”

That simple phrase has been sitting with me. Here’s my thought process around it, in a free-flowing way - no bullet points, no structure. Pure intimacy here over a blog.

So, what is “otherness”?

It’s the ways in which people are different from us. It can show up in so many subtle and not-so-subtle ways - our values, our routines (early riser vs. night owl), our career paths (creative, professional, or stay-at-home), our family choices (kids or no kids, pets, how we define “family”), religious beliefs, upbringing (those spoken and unspoken rules), and how we handle conflict.

From a young age, we’re wired to notice and highlight differences. In school, we compete. In job interviews, we’re asked what sets us apart. It might be framed as a positive thing, but at its core, we’re encouraged to focus on how we’re not like others. So, it’s really no surprise that many of us struggle to accept “otherness” in the people closest to us.

When I reflect on why this is so difficult, one core reason stands out: “otherness” threatens our sense of security.

That threat can take many forms. Let’s explore.

Our earliest sense of security comes from the family systems we’re born into. Later, we build on that with friendships, school, work environments, etc., but those early experiences leave the deepest imprint. So, when we encounter someone whose worldview or behavior is shaped by a different upbringing or cultural framework, our brain can read that difference as a threat.

It shakes our foundation. Accepting their “otherness” can feel like rejecting our own. And that’s frigging hard.

Take a simple example: Let’s say you grew up in a family that has a specific holiday tradition - say, exchanging meaningful handmade gifts. Now imagine you’re with a partner whose family celebrates by splurging on lavish presents. Eventually, you have to decide which traditions to pass on to your kids. That’s when the “otherness” truly emerges. What began as polite acceptance during the honeymoon phase becomes a battleground. Because changing a foundational way of doing things feels like losing part of yourself.

“Otherness” also shows up when it comes to values. And this is where it gets even more tender. Accepting someone else’s values can, for some of us, feel like surrendering our own agency.

Our values root us. If we haven’t developed the flexibility to bend without breaking, then we fall into rigid patterns. Differences don’t just challenge us - they break us.

Let me give you a personal example. One of my core values is inclusiveness. In a group setting, I go out of my way to ask people about themselves - it’s how I make them feel seen. When someone comes into the space and starts talking about themselves non-stop without extending that same curiosity, I find it really hard. That kind of “otherness” really gets under my skin. It’s something I’m working on.

Here’s the thing: our brains noticing “otherness” and raising a flag - that’s not the problem. That’s just good survival wiring. The real challenge is that many of us haven’t learned how to dialogue with someone who’s presenting difference. So we reach for our daggers - or our shields. We go into fight mode, or we disengage completely, writing the person off as “toxic.”

But there’s a different way.

The growth lies in cultivating two key traits: curiosity and a solid sense of self.

Curiosity is a powerful balm. It helps us ask:

• What shaped this person’s choices?

• Why do they do things this way?

• How attached are they to this aspect of their identity?

• What is their “otherness” triggering in me?

When we approach others from a place of wonder rather than threat, true, authentic dialogue becomes possible.

But curiosity alone isn’t enough. We also need a grounded sense of self - a deep knowing that we are worthy and lovable, not because we’re better than others, but simply because we are. Then we start looking for evidence that our life choices are valid and accepted - we are okay with differences.

When we stand on that inner ground, the “otherness” of someone else might feel uncomfortable, but it doesn’t shake us. It’s no longer a threat. It’s just information - an interesting detail about the person in front of us.

I want to be clear: the goal here isn’t to accept every person’s “otherness.” It’s not to force compatibility or harmonize at all costs. The goal is to learn how to work with difference, so we can seek consensus from a place of calm rather than reactivity.

From there, we can make a real choice - whether to stay in someone’s orbit or lovingly step away. Either way, the decision comes from peace, not judgment.

How do we know we’ve reached that place? I think it’s when we can look at someone’s “otherness” without it igniting a storm of emotion inside us. It’s when we can walk away - not with righteousness, but with love.

And let me be real with you: this is hard work. I mentioned how I am still working on this. We live in a world that feels increasingly divided. But maybe the place to start is close in - our partners, our families, our friendships. Even a little curiosity can start a ripple effect.

Journal Prompts

So, here’s something to try:

Think about a close relationship where you’re experiencing tension or disconnect. In what ways do you view that person as “the other”? Make a list - what traits, behaviors, or choices stand out to you? What stories have you built around those traits? And most importantly: what emotions come up when you think about those differences? Do you feel superior? Defensive? Insecure? Righteous?

This isn’t about judgment - it’s data. Use it. Sit with it. And now, maybe revisit this blog from that lens.

Let the ripple begin.