Compare Self Love Beauty
Love, Self-Love

The Comparison Connection Against Each Other

Compare Self Love Beauty

Waking up this morning, I did what so many people do, I slowly open my eyes and wish for a few more minutes (who am I kidding…more hours) of sleep. After conceding to the daylight, I reached for my phone and immediately started scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed, catching up on the lives of friends, family and acquaintances on a 2” x 4” screen.

The social “connection” begins.

With social connection inevitably comes social comparison. I don’t think a day goes by where each of us doesn’t compare ourselves to someone else. There are celebrities, friends, siblings and acquaintances to compare yourself to and there is no facet of life that is immune to this comparison.

In its purest form, there is nothing wrong comparison. It gives us context for who we are, why we’re here and how we find meaning in our lives. However, it can be so easy to let comparison become the foundation from which the feelings of inferiority and not enough build upon.  

Comparing Yourself.

At 27, I can’t help but compare myself to the rest of Generation Y, with which I am inextricably linked. It’s our turn to shine. Before I have even had my morning coffee, I scroll through Instagram and Facebook feeds of people on nice vacations, eating at top-rated restaurants or meeting someone famous. One flick of the finger triggers a flood of posts and images showcasing enviable celebrations and life-changing announcements- a new job, promotion, engagement, marriage, growing babies, and first time homeowners. Pristine ‘adulting’. If these highlights and life changes are a measure of success, then I am failing miserably.

My parents are my roommates, the closest I have ever come to pregnancy is a burrito baby and most days, I talk to my cats more than humans. Insert “forever alone” meme here.

While I am genuinely happy for my friends, I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel a slight twinge of jealousy with every new post. Their success somehow becomes my failure. I am less of an adult, less of a person, because I strayed away from the preconceived path of adulthood and age appropriate milestones. Very rarely have I been asked about marriage, children, or buying a house, but seeing posts and pictures that highlight others’ success, growth, and alignment with social expectations, the twinge of jealousy I feel fuels the idea that I am ‘adulting’ wrong.

My Priority.

But I’m not. I am taking care of myself. That is my priority; my ‘adulting’; my highlight. By constantly comparing our behind-the-scenes to everyone else’s highlight reel, we lose sight of the wholeness of our own lives and also disregard the difficulties of others’ lives that happen behind the facade of social media feeds.

I may not have any photos of a tropical vacation, but I do have one of the river that relaxed me as I quietly escaped into a book. There are no pictures of me standing proudly next to my newly purchased home, but my recent closet renovation gives me a fantastic sense of accomplishment. I don’t have any children, but I do have a nephew I adore and a cat that gives me hugs. It has taken time for me to recognize that just because my life doesn’t look like the picture perfect posts I see through social media, it is mine and it is enough.  

I am enough.