I remember as an adolescent playing with a group of kids my age and being particularly loud and very energetic. Looking back, I realize that the place we were at was not the appropriate place for such fun. During this day, I remember my mom giving me the eye and telling me to sit still. Once we were done and were leaving, my mom pointed out another young girl about my age who sat poised throughout the service and seemed to shine the entire evening.
I remember my mom saying, “Look at her, why can’t you behave like her?” I didn’t understand my mom’s frustration at the time, so I think her question stung a bit.
Fast forward a few short years, and we find out that the same poised girl became pregnant as a young teenager. I’m not sure which direction her life took from that point, but from the little I do recall, it was the beginning of a slippery slope for her.
Every so often, when I remember, I tease my mom and ask if she still wanted me to be like this girl. It’s our inside joke.
Over the years, I no longer had to contend with the question of comparison asked by a frustrated mother. Time has shown me that the wounds of comparison I’ve carried were all self-inflicted. Is this rooted in insecurity? Probably. I mean, who isn’t battling some form of insecurity? But I don’t think it’s superficial. By that I mean, it’s not a desire to be like or look like anyone else. I think it’s a matter of wanting to have it all together the way other people seem to.
I have a good life. I’m 40, employed with a really good company and doing work I enjoy. My family has established some traditions that have brought us closer than I could’ve ever imagined. I have a circle of friends that I’ve navigated some of the toughest seasons of my life with, and only one of them I’d sometimes trade for a Vita Malt.
I have another circle that I’m developing a bond with, and I’m learning to appreciate all the things that make them uniquely them. I have a sister from another mister who I can call at any time, and she’ll ask questions while she’s on her way to me.
I have a husband who is my heartbeat as I am his. He’s a wonderful provider, protector, and friend. He’s sometimes diabolical because he’d intentionally try to sabotage my fitness progress by bringing some sin-laden meal into my office or the house and then tell me, ‘You don’t have to eat it.’ Talk about sleeping with the enemy.
What I’ve described says that I have a full life and by this measurement, I’m wealthy. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t struggle with feelings of inadequacy.
One of the things I’m learning to enjoy about the journey I’m on as I pursue the purpose God has outlined for my life is learning to identify not only the triggers behind the way I think and feel, but also the resolutions for them.
One of the triggers I’ve identified is comparison. It rarely begins with dissatisfaction. More often, it begins innocently with admiration. The challenge is that admiration has a way of subtly evolving into something more if we’re not careful.
When Admiration Becomes Comparison
We often romanticize what we see. I don’t know why our minds work the way they do, but we know how to take the facts, distort them, and create a fantasy that we lust after. Our obsession with social media and influencers is an example of this.
We take a 45-second reel as an invitation to become wholly invested in the portion of someone’s life that they choose to show. We then naturally conclude that the opportunities, things, and life they have are because of who they are. We are drawn to and motivated by the content without assessing the character of the creator.
I’ll give you a significant example of this.
We’re on the heels of summer, and many influencers are sharing their routines and meal plans. The attraction is the almost-but-not-complete guarantee that they can have you snatched in time for summer.
What they’re ultimately selling is the possibility of looking like them. That’s the content.
What we don’t often stop to consider is the character behind the result. We don’t see the genetics, the sacrifices, the years of consistency, or, in some instances, the unhealthy practices that helped create the bodies we admire.
We simply see the outcome and assume that by following the same steps, we’ll arrive at the same destination.
This is one of many examples, but also a reason perhaps the Bible warns us against comparing ourselves to each other.
I wonder if this warning was given because God saw the day we would move from admiration to motivation and then a duplication of the lives of those we see.
Does this mean that we should no longer be inspired to try something new? I don’t think so, so please don’t delete the Pinterest boards. The deception isn’t in the trying; it’s in the becoming. Many times, when envy is the motivation, getting what we think we want requires becoming someone else.
We start adopting values, priorities, habits, and even definitions of success that were never meant to be ours.
What begins as motivation can slowly morph into imitation, and without realizing it, we begin pursuing a version of life that doesn’t align with who God created us to be.
Parts of our identity subtly change because of who we’re influenced by, and it’s often because of the value we place on things we see.
Gratitude Protects What Comparison Threatens
Does this mean we’re dissatisfied with our lives? Again, I don’t think so. However, I do think it means that we’ve shifted our focus away from all the things we have and should be grateful for.
Gratitude is still the antidote to the problems we identify. As trivial as it may seem, it’s true because gratitude acknowledges that, even when things don't line up the way we want them to, God is still good.
It’s accepting that He cannot be willed into doing or giving us what we see someone else has, but accepting that everything we need to live the life He’s designed for us is in Him, and as His children, He’s in us. This gives us direct access to heaven’s blueprint for our lives.
Gratitude doesn’t ignore feelings of inadequacy or insufficiency. Instead, gratitude embraces them because we know there’s an opportunity to experience a wholeness that only He can provide.
Gratitude understands that the One who did not withhold His only Son from us, but gave Him up for us all, will just as freely give us anything we need to live the life He’s purposed. This means that if we don’t have it, then clearly we don’t need it.
This is something that I’ve been putting into practice over the past few months. It doesn’t mean that I don’t still feel a twinge of jealousy when I see people succeeding in areas I haven’t or haven’t yet. But as I reflect on who I am and what I do have, I also reflect on the things God had to walk me through to get me to this point.
For fear of sounding dramatically comical, I am aware of the levels of hell He has brought me out of and the fire He’s molded me in. I have no clue what the journey was like for the people I see. Though I may find myself sometimes wanting more than I have, gratitude has taught me to recognize the peace He’s given me.
His peace is the one thing that I have become absolutely sure of, and gratitude reminds me that I’m not willing to trade it.
Practicing gratitude when we feel tempted to compare our lives to anyone else is an important safeguard. It’s important because it keeps us from abandoning the real good that we have for the illusion of good we’re presented with.
This was the problem in Genesis 3 and the reason we’re in a fallen world today.
If Eve had taken a moment to look around at all the other trees she had unfettered access to and explore and enjoy them, she may not have been drawn away by a fruit that promised to be better and turned out to be the absolute worst.