Breaking Free from Judgment: A Parenting Journey

Judging people before truly knowing them is something I know all too well. I’ve been judged my entire life—my surname, my looks, my weight, even the smallest things. The harshest judgments didn’t come from strangers, though; they came from my own family. But we’ll get to that later.

Judgment isn’t unique to one culture—it exists everywhere—but in Indian culture, it often feels like a family affair. When someone judges you, they usually drag your parents into it too.

Take this example: I can’t cook Indian food. My mum tried teaching me, but I wasn’t interested—I never loved Indian food. When my extended family discovered this, they didn’t just judge me; they judged my parents for “failing” to teach me. The same thing happened when I became a parent.

When Maanvi wasn’t potty trained by the age of three, the comments started:

“My child was out of nappies by two.”

“Still in nappies? Does she want to stay a baby forever?”

And then came the judgment aimed at me:

“You’re lazy. You’re not putting in the effort.”

The truth? I started potty training at two and a half. But Maanvi began forcing herself to pee every 20 minutes because she thought that’s what was expected. So I stopped. I waited until she was ready. At four, she trained in a week—with only three accidents.

Everyone learns at their own pace. There’s no universal deadline for milestones. Yet, as parents, we feel pressured, compared, and judged. And as individuals, we’re often judged for things beyond our control—like our skin or our weight—or for choices we make for our own well-being.

When Judgment Crosses the Line

I once read a post on an Indian parenting forum. A new mum asked if she could extend her parents’ visa to stay longer after helping her with the baby. Most responses were helpful—except one.

This one commenter accused her of using her parents as babysitters, saying things like:

“If you can’t handle your baby, hire a nanny.”

“Parents shouldn’t be called over—they have a better life in India.”

That comment hit a nerve. Why? Because I had done exactly what she was criticizing. My in-laws came to the UK after both my girls were born, and I’m not ashamed of it. They were my lifeline during those early months when I battled postnatal depression—twice. They encouraged me, supported me, and gave me the strength to be the mother I wanted to be.

Their visits didn’t steal their freedom—they still had the life they loved in India. They now enjoy the best of both worlds: quality time with us via regular video calls and their community back home. Everyone wins.

The Nosy Neighbour Syndrome

Indian communities take “it takes a village” to the next level. Growing up, I saw how connected everyone was. Back in my dad’s village, I could roof-jump from one house to another, wander into strangers’ homes, and no one blinked an eye—because my dad was part of the community. They even looked out for me.

But the same people who once cared later judged me harshly when I developed eczema as a teen. Suddenly, I wasn’t welcome. They feared they’d “catch” my condition.

It didn’t hurt much when strangers judged me. Their opinions didn’t matter. But when it came from people I knew—my own family—that was different.

Family Judgment Hurts the Most

I’ve written before about my sisters-in-law—especially my youngest brother’s wife—who seemed to despise me. Most of the judgment I faced was because of my skin. Severe eczema since I was 14 left dark patches on my face and arms. People assumed it was contagious.

Then there was my weight. Many assumed I was lazy or addicted to junk food. The truth? As a child, I was given cod liver oil tablets, and my body reacted by piling on weight rapidly—tripling in size in six months. No diet or exercise worked long-term.

The only time I lost significant weight was during a four-month trip to India for herbal treatment in my 20s. The “diet” was so strict I survived on powdered medicine and one chapati a day—no dairy, no proper meals. I dropped 10 kg in two months but was so weak I could barely function. And yes, the weight crept back when normal life resumed.

Judgment from non-Indians often came as backhanded compliments or subtle digs. Indians? Brutally direct. “What happened to your skin? You used to be so pretty.” Those comments cut deep.

The Bright Side: Kindness Exists Too

Not everyone judges. My husband’s family has been nothing short of amazing. My in-laws treat me with love, respect, and zero criticism. They compliment me, encourage me, and make me feel valued—something I rarely experienced growing up. Their words build me up instead of tearing me down.

The other day, they told me, “You light up a room wherever you go.” I carried that compliment with me all day. I wish my own parents had said things like that.

Breaking the Cycle for My Daughters

Because I grew up in an environment where compliments were rare and judgment was constant, I vowed my daughters would never feel “less than.” I make it a point to praise their efforts and celebrate their strengths.

Maanvi: Becoming Her Own Person

Maanvi is no longer the little girl people judged for being “late” with potty training. She’s on the edge of a whole new chapter—starting Year 7, moving into secondary school, and slowly stepping into her teenage years.

She’s curious about her appearance now, experimenting with hairstyles and dabbling in makeup, which makes me smile because it reminds me of my own growing-up years—but with a lot more confidence than I had. Her taste in TV shows has matured too; she’s all about series like Wednesday and Doctor Who, which spark conversations about independence, identity, and what it means to be different.

Of course, with growing independence comes growing emotions. She has her moody days (don’t we all?) and moments where she wants her space. And as much as it tugs at my heart, I know this is healthy—it means she’s finding her voice. My job is to guide her, especially when it comes to big things like mobile phone safety and understanding the digital world.

We’ve also started teaching her basic life skills, like cooking simple meals, because independence isn’t just about having a phone or walking to school alone—it’s about knowing how to take care of yourself. It’s a balance between letting go and holding on just enough to keep her safe.

Jiya: The Free Spirit

Jiya is thriving as she gets ready to start Year 3. She’s my social butterfly—always chatting, making friends, and charming her teachers at every parents’ evening. She’s fiercely independent in her own way and loves trying to do everything by herself (even when she needs help).

She’s creative, playful, and full of energy—the kind of child who turns the simplest day into an adventure. And though she and Maanvi still have their epic sibling squabbles, they also share moments that melt my heart, like teaming up to put on an impromptu dance show or giggling together over a silly joke.

Watching Jiya grow reminds me that confidence starts young, and I want her to hold on to that fearless spark for as long as possible.

Final Thoughts: Judgment Is Inevitable—But It Doesn’t Define You

Life will always have judgmental people. I can’t change that. But I can raise my daughters to be confident, resilient, and unapologetically themselves. That’s the best defense against judgment—and the greatest gift I can give them.