Sometimes we judge others for their playfulness. It could be a spontaneous act, like dancing through the park, or just a carefree moment in the middle of a busy day. It might strike us as too much, too out of place, or too unrestrained. “Who does she think she is?” “He’s acting so immature.” We’ve all had those thoughts sometimes.
It’s easy to fall into the habit of making snap judgments, especially when we see someone doing something that feels unfamiliar or uncomfortable. But why do we react this way? Why does someone else’s freedom to be playful stir something in us? Often, it’s not really about them at all. Our judgment is more about something we haven’t processed within ourselves. It’s a knee-jerk response that doesn’t always reflect what’s truly going on—it’s usually more about our own feelings.
When we judge someone for being playful or spontaneous, it’s worth taking a moment to think about what those judgments really mean. Often, what feels like criticism of their behavior is actually a reflection of something we’re suppressing in ourselves. That playfulness we’re judging could be a mirror for our own desire to break free from the rules we’ve set for ourselves.
“When we judge someone else’s playfulness, we miss an opportunity to reflect on what their joy might be showing us about ourselves.”
We might not want to do exactly what they’re doing—maybe we don’t want to dance through the park like they do—but we could be envious of their ability to enjoy life in a lighter, freer way. We might be craving the same release they’re experiencing, and that’s when judgment creeps in. In reality, it’s not their playfulness that bothers us—it’s our own resistance to letting go and allowing ourselves the same freedom. “Why can’t I do that?” What we often don’t realize is that the judgment we’re expressing is actually a cry for permission to be playful without guilt or shame.
On the flip side, it’s also possible that we just don’t relate to certain forms of play at all. Not everyone enjoys the same things, and that’s perfectly okay. If someone’s way of having fun doesn’t speak to you, there’s no need to analyze it. Just accept that what works for them doesn’t work for you. “Good for her, not for me” is a perfectly valid response. It acknowledges that everyone’s joy is different—and that’s fine. Their play doesn’t have to match yours to be meaningful.
When we let go of judgment, we free ourselves from unnecessary constraints. We stop measuring our happiness based on someone else’s choices, and we give ourselves permission to explore play in a way that feels right for us. Instead of projecting our own fears or insecurities onto others, we can start to appreciate their joy, even if it doesn’t look like our own. This opens the door for a more accepting, playful world, where we can all find our own paths to freedom.
At the end of the day, when we judge someone else’s playfulness, we miss a chance to reflect on what their joy might be showing us about ourselves. Instead of criticizing or resenting their freedom, we can turn the focus inward and ask, “What would it feel like to embrace my own playful side?” We don’t have to do exactly what they’re doing, but we can start exploring what play looks like for us—on our terms. By shifting from judgment to curiosity, we might discover new ways to bring freedom and joy into our own lives. Or, we can just let someone be themselves, just as we want to be ourselves.
