Recently, I met with someone I don’t know well yet. We’ve been in the same circles for a while now, but this was the first time we had a chance for a private conversation – well, as private as it gets in a public location. After sharing some general information about our lives, they asked me about my photography and if that’s what I want to do with my life. This question sounded a bit odd to me since I’ve been doing this for the better part of a decade, but no harm in asking. And then they asked me if I didn’t want to consider getting a job for, say, three mornings a week.

I’m not one to shy away from an honest conversation, so I shared the reasons why I’m not looking for a job. And in their response, I saw an echo of reactions from others with whom I’ve discussed similar topics. It’s a tiny furrow of the eyebrows, an almost unnoticeable pursing of the lips, and the silence that lasts just a fraction too long. You would easily miss it if you didn’t pay attention.

Most of these responses come from women who seem to feel that my life choices are profoundly anti-feminist. To name a few of my offences: when we got married, I took my husband’s last name; when my husband found a job abroad, I gave up my entire life and made myself financially dependent in the process; and while he was working, I spent the better part of a year working on our home. All things I get questioned and judged on by people who don’t bother to get the whole story.

So this makes me wonder: why do you ask?

Most people formulate their questions in a way that you already hear the baked-in judgment they have about you. Take the question about me getting a job, for example. While it is a valid question, and I don’t assume malicious intent, there are some assumptions hidden behind it: 1. Building a new business does not qualify as work, and 2. Temporarily depending on your husband’s income is either horrifying or lazy.

Now, you could say that I’m reading too much into this, and these assumptions are a reflection of my feelings on the subject. And maybe they are. If I knew next to nothing about someone and heard them tell this, I would have an opinion too. However, I would also be curious to find out more – without passing on my judgment.

When you’re on the outside, you can never know the full story behind someone else’s choices. Even if they let you in and give as much detail as they feel safe to do, you will never fully comprehend their experience. And you will always see their situation through your own experiences – compare it to the different colours of our sunglasses: mine make the world warmer, whereas yours might colour it green or pink.

Going back to my offences, I worded them without any nuance. And I did that on purpose. Because that is what you see on the surface level. It would go too far to explain my entire backstory – and I believe I’m allowed to keep certain things to myself – but I do want to shine a different light on each of them. So let’s have a look.

When we first got married, I chose to take my husband’s name. Not because of tradition or patriarchy, but because I felt that for the first time in a long time, I belonged to someone. And I wanted that reflected in my name – even though he has one of the most boring last names in existence. Eight years on, I have become more flexible: sometimes I use his name, others mine, and occasionally I stitch them together.

The fact that I gave up my entire life for his new job is the polar opposite of what happened. Before we got serious about moving to Scotland, I had already realised I no longer wanted to be a chaplain. So I had quit my education and finished my final job as a minister before he started looking for a new job. In addition to that, I knew that I couldn’t take my business to where I wanted it to be if we stayed in the Netherlands. I absolutely see why people think I gave up my life, but he got the job so we could move here. And I may or may not have pushed him really hard to make it happen.

Then the last one. Sure, I spent the better part of a year managing our move. But that was the logical choice. I had the option to limit my photography work, while he had a total of three weeks off between the end of his old job and the start of his new one. And this year allowed me to build a solid foundation for my new photography business.

Keep in mind that even with this reframing, you still don’t know the full story. It is not for you to know every single detail. And sure, you might have done things differently, but that truly doesn’t matter. These choices were ours to make. So next time when you disagree with someone, before you ask them a question, take a moment to reflect on why you want to. Is it out of curiosity? Or are you unintentionally passing your judgment?