I was sitting at a café next to a very pregnant woman. She was drinking her third cup of coffee in a row. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Think about your baby!” I blurted out.
She turned to me, her expression shifting from surprise to irritation. “Are you an idiot? I’m—”
She stopped mid-sentence, then sighed deeply, rubbing her temple as if trying to contain her frustration.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she finally said, her voice calmer but firm.
Feeling a little embarrassed but still concerned, I hesitated. “I just thought… caffeine isn’t good for the baby.”
She set her cup down and looked me straight in the eye. “I’m not pregnant.”
My stomach dropped. My face burned with embarrassment. Before I could stammer out an apology, she continued, “I have a medical condition that causes severe bloating. I’ve been mistaken for being pregnant too many times to count.”
I felt terrible. “I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
She sighed again, softer this time. “You know, I get why people assume, but it’s exhausting. I can’t go anywhere without someone commenting on my body.”
I nodded, still at a loss for words.
After a moment, she offered a small smile. “I appreciate that you care, though. Most people just judge silently. But maybe next time, just… don’t assume.”
I smiled back, still embarrassed but grateful for her grace. “Lesson learned.”
As she picked up her coffee and took another sip, I realized that sometimes, even well-intentioned words can cause harm. And maybe, just maybe, it’s best to keep our judgments to ourselves.