One thing I’ve always known about myself is that I am a jealous person. When you’re a jealous person it’s really difficult to focus on what you do have, and not what you don’t. Particularly when you’re constantly comparing yourself to people who are “better” than you. For as long as I can remember I’ve been doing this – practising the art of comparison.
The thing is it’s easy to lose when practising the art of comparison, particularly as you get to choose who you compare yourself to and it tends to be someone who has something you want. Plus you’re comparing what you know of yourself to what you know of them and, inevitably, you’re comparing your behind the scenes to their highlight reel.
Back in primary school I used to compare myself to friends who were prettier than me, or more popular than I was. Who got the attention of all the boys without having to hang upside down on the monkey bars and show their underpants. Who were effortlessly cooler in everything they did. I remember a trip to Sizzler at about 8 years old. My best friend was wearing a tartan skirt, a white blouse, a tartan vest, knee high socks, mary janes and a beret. She looked like she had stepped straight out of Clueless. Not a surprise, really, given she was going through what she now terms her “Clueless phase” and that was her aim.
I was so jealous. Her platinum blonde hair, slightly small front teeth, blue eyes and cheeky smile were something I had always admired. I looked down at my jeans and I wished I’d dressed up for going to Sizzler, convinced that it would somehow make a difference while standing in line for cheese bread.
The thing was, my best friend was dressed like that because she felt insecure about what she looked like too. Upon reuniting with her as adults, she confided in me that she had always hated her teeth, and had always been insecure about what she looked like, particularly compared to me. But I never saw that, I was too busy focussing on my need to want to be like her.
Fast forward to high school and I had another best friend (the one from primary school had long since moved interstate). She & I were to become inseparable, and still spend every moment we can together to this day. I had a group of loyal friends, who I treated not as well as I should have, and the rare ability to flit between groups at school, friends with everyone, talking to them all. Yet I was dissatisfied with my lot in life because, and I quote, I wasn’t in the “cool group”. I looked at those girls, the ones who were always so stylish (even though, looking back, we all had a bad case of the 90s), and I longed to be like them. They liked me, sure, and we got along well, but I was never really part of their crew. I was so busy wishing to be part of a different group, I missed what was right in front of me – smart, fun, sassy, loyal friends who should have been 100% of my focus. And a best friend many girls would have killed for, and still wish they had.
Which brings me to now. I own a 3 bedroom house, certainly big enough for the 2.5 people who live here (the 0.5 being my stepdaughter, since she doesn’t live here most of the time). I have a husband who loves me, two gorgeous cats, and an amazing job where I recently was picked to be the Acting Manager while the School Manager is on maternity leave. An incredible compliment to be chosen, and a great career opportunity.
And yet I am dissatisfied. I compare myself to those bloggers who have a bigger following than I do. The ones who started after me, yet through luck, hard work and who knows what else, have already been able to build a business from their blogs. Despite the fact that many of them work solely on their blogs, as opposed to me working a full time job on top of it.
I look at my friends who have children, and I am desperately jealous of their lives. I look at those who have pet dogs, and I wish to join them. I look at people who have bigger houses, more money, more successful careers, and I’m still practicing the art of comparison, and coming off second best, despite everything I have.
Recently I re-read Your Best Year Yet by Kelly Exeter (available on amazon here – affiliate link) and something that resonated with me the first time I read it smacked me over the head this time.
You are not better than anyone else, and no one is better than you.
It was only after high school when I stopped taking out my jealousy on other people. Stopped acting like I had some right to put them down because I felt insecure inside. It was only as an adult I learned to stop bitching about people behind their backs because they had things I wanted, and I felt like putting those things down to others would somehow make me look better by comparison. It didn’t, it never would, because I didn’t look bad by comparison to begin with, it was all in my mind.
The thing is, when you practice the art of comparison, you are only training yourself to focus on the negative and, usually, if you try really hard, you’ll notice other people are thinking the same way about the things you have.
Who do I harm by practising the art of comparison? Only me. My new year’s resolution? Stop.
Do you practice the art of comparison? Have you ever caught yourself putting others down in a vain attempt to make yourself look good? What are you jealous of?
