The Thief of Joy
Of all my flaws, one of my greatest is my constant comparison of myself to others. And if I’m truly honest, my comparison is often not in their looks versus mine, or their fashion, fortune or career.
More often than not, it is who is beside them versus who is not beside me.
I could argue that comparison is deeply rooted in us all.
From the moment the pregnancy test is positive, they begin.
You're 10 weeks along! Your baby is the size of a strawberry!
You’re 28 weeks along! Your baby is the size of an eggplant!
After birth, you’re compared by your height, weight, head size – 20th percentile! 90th percentile! Off the charts!
In school, your progress is compared to your peers. Do you need extra help? Are you talented and gifted and performing beyond your peers?
And on and on it goes.
Life comes with no directions; no owner’s manual. It feels all I can do is look around to gauge if I’ve been successful – as if it’s instilled in us to compare.
With my eyes on my own paper, I like what I see.
A small-town Iowa girl who took chances and built a successful career standing on her own two feet. I see someone living a stable life steeped in financial security balanced with rich experiences and adventure. I see a life where I work to live life to the fullest - to travel, to be free, to connect, and to thrive.
A cozy, welcoming apartment in the heart of the hustle and bustle of the city, complete with my unique little community that makes a rented apartment feel more like home than any other place has since I was 18 years old.
I see my fortune of good health. I appreciate the minimal stress and ease of each day.
It’s a really good life.
When I’m looking straight ahead.
But sometimes I look left.
And sometimes I look right.
My eyes trail from my own life, my own story, my own journey.
And I begin to compare.
Man - she is crushing it in her career. She loves what she does. Do I love my job that much? Where am I even going next? Am I stuck?
I wish I was in a thriving relationship. I wonder what I’ll be like as a mother? They’re so lucky to be married with kids. Will that ever be me?
All my friends own homes. I’m creeping toward 40 and I still rent? I don’t know where to put down roots so how do I even begin to know where to buy a home?
Am I falling behind?
It can spiral quickly, and linger longer than I care to admit.
And man, can it be heavy.
It’s tough to pull out of. I struggle with it through seasons of life.
I know that I am guilty of spending too much time looking at everyone else’s paper and ignoring the amazing things on my own.
Theodore Roosevelt famously said, “Comparison is the thief of joy” and it comes for me often.
Like many others, I lose hours each week scrolling mindlessly through social media, staring at the lives of people I often barely connect with in person – many I’ve never even met.
For the past 15 years, I have been unnecessarily hard on myself. I have constantly looked at every paper around me and wondered how I measured up.
If I measured up.
It is only been in the last few years that I’ve gotten better at getting outside of my head. That I’ve made greater strides toward loving and accepting every great aspect of my life.
And each hard one.
I like to say that we need to normalize being single. Too many men and women are too hard on themselves and waste too much time wishing for something that is often beyond their control.
I think society is unnecessarily cruel to us without meaning to be. It’s the prayers and the sympathy and the assumption that everyone should have a plus one at a wedding. The reminder, day in and day out, that our lives do not look like that of our married peers which we openly celebrate.
Society is still catching up in believing that life can truly be beautiful and satisfying even if it doesn’t include marriage and children.
But if I’m being honest with myself, while I think society does have more shifting to do, I still do as well.
I am constantly, consciously, rewriting my own story.
Reminding myself that I am enough. That I am loved. Rewiring beliefs I’ve carried since I was a child. Finding peace in living a life that looks nothing like that of those I share my Iowa roots with.
I continue to struggle with the ending to my story.
Will I experience the things I dreamt of since I can remember? Is that truly the path in life in which I will thrive? Was I created for that world or am I better suited for the one I exist in today?
I close my eyes and drown out the noise. The “What If?” and the “Should I?” and the “How come?” thoughts that swirl around me.
I take a deep breath.
I don’t have the answers. I’m learning to be okay with that.
And for now, I look straight ahead.
I focus on today.
I stop getting ahead of myself.
And I give myself the grace we all deserve but so rarely give ourselves.
One day at a time. Eyes on my own paper.