Posted in Being Vulnerable

Comparison is the thief of joy. -Brene Brown

Something I’ve been working on for a few years now is my comparative thoughts.

I, like most people, am really hard on myself.

I have high expectations of where I should be in life and what I should look like throughout my life.

These expectations were molded by my family, but also by my environment.

But as I’ve gotten older I’ve started to question if these expectations were truly serving me.

Basically, was my practice of comparing myself to others helpful?

And I’ve painfully discovered, it isn’t.

It actually makes me feel like shit.

And if I truly love myself, why would I want to make myself feel this way?

I think, especially after losing my job last year due to covid, I realized I’m not okay with it.

The ego death I had during that time seriously awakened me to my humongous insecurity around being seen as intelligent, ambitious and productive.

And I battled greatly with this death.

I still do.

But what I came to realize was I am enough regardless of my productivity and achievements.

Of course, I’ll probably always secretly seek a little approval, but that seeking is diminishing.

And so are my comparative thoughts.

And it sucks that it took me hitting the fucking floor to acknowledge my worth.

I wish I had seen how powerful and capable I am prior to that moment.

But that’s life, right?

Sometimes we need to fall in order to fly.

-B.