Carrying things longer than we should

I have been struggling with some people in my neighbor/ward. I am the first to admit that Josh and I aren't the most active people in our ward. No one will ever understand why, and that is ok they don't need to. Every one is different,that is what makes us unique and special. That doesn't mean that God loves one of us more than the other, he loves us all the same.
That is what brings me to this story.


TWO MONKS AND THE BEAUTIFUL WOMAN
An old monk and a young monk were walking through a forest when they came to a river bank and saw a beautiful young woman standing at the edge of the bank.

The woman told the monks that she was afraid to cross the river because she might slip and be carried downstream. She asked if one of the monks might help her across.

Now it so happened that these 2 monks were members of a sect which practiced celibacy and they had both taken vows never to touch a member of the opposite sex. But the old monk, sensing the extreme anxiety of the young woman, lifted her onto his back and carried her to the other side of the river.

The young woman thanked him and went on her way. The 2 monks continued on their journey, but the young monk was shocked and disturbed at having seen his older companion break his vow so nonchalantly. Finally, after 3 hours of walking and thinking, he could contain himself no longer and he burst out, "Tell me, old man, what did it feel like to break your vow of so many years? What did it feel like to allow sensuality to tempt you from your spiritual path? What did it feel like to have her smooth warm thighs wrapped around your waist, her breasts brushing against your back, her arms around your neck and her soft cheek almost one with your own? Tell me, old man, what is it like to carry such a beautiful young woman?"

The older monk remained silent for several steps and then said, "It is you who should tell me what it is like to carry such a beautiful young woman. You see I put her down 3 hours ago at the river, but you are still carrying her.

Like the young monk in this story I feel like my friends are foucing and passing judgment on my actions, rather than the person I am and what is in my heart.