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"The most destructive thing I've ever done was to believe someone else's opinion of me." — Teal Blue Jay.

I readily admit to being overly judgmental about some things and some people. Part of it is the way I was raised, some of it is due to painful life experiences, and then there's my brain, which frequently isn't up to the task it's assigned.

For several reasons, I'm OK with being judgmental. First because I actually know that I am and therefore can take steps to try to adjust it. This doesn't always work, but at least I'm aware it's a problem.

I'm also OK with being judgmental because it's a very human characteristic. We're all of us only alive now because enough of our ancestors chose to believe in worst-case scenarios — was that a rustle in the underbrush, just the wind or a large carnivore? Let's shinny up a tree until we know for sure.

Finally, I'm OK with being judgmental because I know you are as well.

What? The hell you're not.

We all judge each other, and sometimes rightly so. Today I don't blame the fathers of any of the girls I tried to date for thinking poorly of me as a teenager. I wouldn't have let someone like me date any female primate, much less my own daughter.

That said, there are some places and situations where being judgmental is the worst kind of irony. Church comes immediately to mind. It's supposed to be a place where we set aside our prejudices and acknowledge that other people are family. That's the theory, anyway.

I don't care for overly pious people. In my LDS world, these are people who talk, dress and behave imitatively of General Authorities. That's OK. They don't like irreverent and unconventional people like me. But those are relatively minor differences in the scheme of things.

What if I constituted a real threat, aside from being annoying or disruptive? There are plenty of people like that. How about a short quiz? Which of these do you think is more disruptive to a congregation or a class?

A. "Norm, I know you're the instructor and all, but the average park squirrel has a better grasp of the gospel than you."

B. "Brothers and sisters, I'm new to the ward. My partner David and I are gay. We'll be attending with our two adopted children."

If you picked A, I'm willing to bet that it's largely because you don't have any openly LGBT people in your congregation — a place, I might add, where they should feel comfortable but far too often don't.

I don't use Facebook much. When I do, there are people whose posts I look for. One of those is Mitch Mayne, a gay Mormon from California. Last week he posted something that really stuck with me.

"As LGBT Mormons, our lives are unusually full of people who want to share their opinions about how we should live. Most days it seems we can't be gay enough for the LGBT community, nor Mormon enough for our LDS friends and family.

"On days like that, we need to gently thank other humans (independent of their title or place in our life) for their opinion, and remember that the only opinion of us that matters more than our own, is that of our Savior."

As an LGBT (Largely Good But Tactless) Mormon myself, it's a beautiful point. If you're judgmental enough to disagree, don't tell me. I might come sit with you in church so we can compare our respective versions of judgmental.

Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley.