Theodore Roosevelt famously noted that comparison is the thief of joy. But for me, it’s how I measure my joy. What I mean is, comparison doesn’t steal my joy. Comparison reveals the absence of my joy.
It’s like when you like your hair, and you don’t really notice if other people’s hair is frizzy or uncombed or too curly or too straight. And you don’t really mind when other people have hair that is soft and silky and thick. When you’re happy, you don’t really have the mindset to compare. But when you don’t like your hair, suddenly you notice how much nicer their curls are, or how well their braid is done, and your hair feels coarse, oily, flat.
It’s a selfish concept. When I’m happy and I see happy people, I’m happy for them. When I’m sad and I see happy people, it makes me a little mad and insecure and even more sad. Whenever I start comparing, whenever I start feeling insecure that other people have their lives put together, then I know I’m in a really bad funk.
I want to be happy for people because that often means I’m happy too. It means I’m secure with myself.
But I want to be happy for people even when I’m not. I want to be secure in my insecurity. And I think I’m getting there.
I have a friend on my squad I’ve been praying for, that she continues to build a deep community even if I can’t be a part of it in the way I want to be, because I’m not physically there. We came back together as a squad to travel to Cambodia. I thought that seeing her in her new community would make me sad. But the moment I saw her, I was just happy for her. No comparison. Even though I knew I was still adjusting to my new community.
I still catch myself comparing. Like when I’m not feeling my outfit because I live out of a backpack and have one pair of clean pants left (and by clean, I mean I’ve only worn it three days straight) and I see someone walk by and they are working those tan Cambodian pants with the floral top and unbuttoned denim shirt with the rolled up sleeves. This may or may not have happened recently.
But then I recognize that I’m comparing out of a sense of insecurity. Comparison doesn’t steal my joy, it indicates the absence of my joy. And it indicates my need to check-in with myself and evaluate the root of any insecurity.
