I hate that there is always judgment.
The judgment of the way people greet another.
The judgment when a person walks into a room.
The judgment of a how a person dresses.
Judgement is always there.
I know it’s human nature to automatically categorize, but I wish for once that there wasn’t judgment.
That you could walk into a room and no one would have a preconceived idea of you by your complexion.
This is when I refer to the quote, “You can’t judge a book by its cover.”
It rings completely valid.
The way a person looks, the way they may act at first moments, does not distinguish who they are.
The beauty lies in the bones of that person.
What crafts them into the human beings they have become.
Their little quirks, insecurities, wishes, and dreams. Their mind and soul.
That’s what makes a person.
The physicalities should be a small detail in what a person should be viewed as.