“Judge every person to the side of merit.” (Avot 1:6)

Thank G‑d, I had a baby a few months ago. My hands are full. I’m up all night and busy all day. In a moment when I sit down or lie down, I think about a different stage in my life, and there is a certain internal voice that says, “You are not doing enough.”

I sigh. Never enough. Not good enough. Not accomplished enough. Not enough.

This voice has come and gone in my life more than once, but it seems louder after birth, a transition or a new stage. I sigh when I can’t do what I once did. But as life changes—and with it, my responsibilities—why should I be doing what I once did? Some things I can’t do as well, and other things I do so much better. Or maybe it’s not even about better or worse. It’s more about different. If the moment changes, why shouldn’t we?

I question myself and the voice. Where is it coming from? Why is it so persistent? This voice of doubt and lack of self-worth.

I pause to answer the phone. It’s a woman I know.

She was upset, disappointed. She sighed. She complained. She told me that she felt that she didn’t accomplish as much as she used to. She felt exhausted and couldn’t get as much done. I heard her beat herself up for not doing enough, not accomplishing enough, not being good enough. She sounded like a reflection of what I was feeling.

She mentioned to me that as she went through different stages of life, she felt unsettled. Oh, I can so relate! Isn’t this the same thing that I am feeling?

It wasn’t that she was comparing herself with anyone else. She was comparing herself with herself, which is just as self-defeating.

What was incredible is that in my eyes, this woman is so accomplished! She’s handling so much and going through so much. What she thinks is nothing is a big deal. I admire her and see her beauty for just being her.

“G‑d,” I asked, “are you sending me this woman because I will tell her exactly what I need to hear?”

I listen to this woman and do what I know I need done for me. I point things out to her. Things that she actually already knows. They are obvious to everyone but to her in this moment. These are things that she herself would tell another woman, a friend, even a stranger on the street.

I ask her to switch seats with me, to pretend she is me and I am her. What would she tell me?

She shakes her head up and down. She agrees. If we were switched, she would have much more compassion and fewer expectations. It’s so interesting that the reflection we see can be mirrored in someone else.

Our sages give us advice. They tell us: “Make for yourself a teacher, acquire for yourself a friend and judge every person on the side of merit” (Pirkei Avot, “The Ethics of Our Fathers,” 1:6).

You know what I realized when I spoke with this woman—who could have been any woman and who reminded me of myself? Part of the reason why we need to have teachers and acquire friends is not only to help us grow and or feel alone, but in order to see what we on our own can’t see. We need teachers and friends to enable us to better “judge people favorably,” including ourselves.

So when I start to hear that voice—that voice that has no logic, no reason, no purpose but to bring me down and destroy—do you know what I’ll do if I don’t have the strength to banish it alone? I’m going to pick up the phone and call a good friend, a mentor or a teacher. Someone who can help me see myself in my true light.