Only God can judge me. I mutter that line every single day. Right now I’m slumped on a sagging couch in Columbus, Ohio. The radiator clanks. Cold stuffing sits in my lap. I eat it with my fingers because dishes feel impossible tonight.
Why I Got the Tattoo (Cringe Alert)
The artist asked if I was sure. I laughed. Two hours later I had “Only God Can Judge Me” permanently carved into my skin. My mom cried. My dad stopped talking to me for a month. Worth it? Nope.
The Time I Screamed It at a Sweet Church Lady
July 2024. My car died outside Tulsa. I hid in a Motel 6. A church van pulled up. A lady started preaching through my window. Her face fell. Still see her hurt eyes when I close mine.
When the Phrase Actually Saved Me
Last month I sat in my aunt’s basement. I ate only Little Debbie cakes. I opened my childhood Bible. It fell to Matthew 7:1. “Judge not.” I bawled. The tattoo stopped feeling like armor. It felt like begging.
Yeah, I Still Weaponize It Sometimes
Last week my coworker called me lazy. I hit her with “Only God can judge me, Stacy.” Immediate regret. I hate that version of me. He shows up anyway.
So What Does “Only God Can Judge Me” Even Mean Now?
It’s not a flex. It’s surrender. I keep screwing up. I keep choosing dumb shit. Yet something—Someone—hasn’t written me off yet. That tiny hope keeps me breathing.
Some nights the phrase feels like a prayer. Some nights it’s the only thing stopping me from ending it all. Most nights it’s both.
If you’ve got the ink, or you’ve yelled it, or you’re just drowning in your own mess right now—drop your story below. I’ll read every word while I eat cold pumpkin pie with my hands like an animal.
You’re not alone. Seriously.
Only God can judge me. And right now I’m really hoping He’s feeling merciful.
Yeah I Still Say It When I’m Being A Dick Sometimes
i wish i could tell you i’m reformed and holy now but nah. last week my coworker called me out for ghosting our group project and i immediately hit her with the “only god can judge me stacy” and then spent the whole night hating myself for it. some habits die harder than others i guess.
So What The Hell Does “Only God Can Judge Me” Even Mean To Me Now?
it’s not a flex anymore. it’s me admitting i’m a walking disaster who keeps making the same dumb choices and the only thing keeping me from completely giving up is the tiniest sliver of hope that maybe He’s not done with me yet. that’s it. that’s the whole thing.
some nights it feels like a prayer. some nights it feels like the only thing stopping me from putting the barrel in my mouth. most nights it’s both.
anyway. if you’ve got the ink or you’ve screamed it at someone or you’re just sitting in your own mess right now… you’re not alone. seriously.
drop your worst “only god can judge me” moment below. i’ll read every single one while i eat this cold pie with my hands at 3am like the classy gentleman i am.
