Comparisons

My name is Anita and I struggle with comparing myself to others.

It feels like such an embarrassing admission – the rabbit hole of comparing yourself to other people. It feels like something better whispered in the ear of a good friend than admitted out loud. But today I think I need to sit at this desk in the corner of a {not-so-messy-as-usual} kitchen and pull you aside and ask you, “How can we be in this together instead of competing at this?”

Comparison will rob you blind, smash in your self-image, trash your house and tar and feather your kids.

It takes what is beautiful and tears it up into tiny bits like so many shredded pieces of paper.

Comparison will eat at the heart of everything you love the most.

Love to write?
Comparison will whisper it’s pointless when nobody reads your blog anyway.
Love to make crafts?
Comparison will tell you that without a gallery, a show, an esty shop you’re a fake.
Love to cook?
Comparison will tell you that your pots and pans would shame Julia Childs and desecrate her recipes.
Love to grow a business, build a brand, market your mojo?
Comparison will tell you that you should have done it differently, done it like her, done it years ago to be any success at all.

Nothing is as terrifying as thinking you don’t matter because you can’t do it like her.

But if we were to look down, look away from what we wish we had. If we would glance back at where we are, we might see we've been standing with high heels ground down on top of the hand painted, one-of-a-kind life art crafted for us.

For you.

For me.

We are each of us uniques.

A fingerprint swirl of utterly and totally incomparable. You are.

I’m writing this because I need to remember. Because when I forget and compare, parts of me wilt and fear takes bites out of my dreams.

I need to remember who I am. Just me.

I can never capture all of it on this blog. I can only show you glimpses. Don’t waste even a moment of your own beautiful life comparing it to mine. And I’ll promise to return the favour.

Rejoice.

Let’s choose to rejoice with one another.

Let’s not trample what we’ve been given in order to get to what we wish we’d got.

No girls, let’s dance. Right where we’re at.

Blessings