The Data of Comparison
“Comparison robs me of gratitude.”
That was my opener in therapy the other day, an observation when asked where my head’s been at. I returned from my time in Canada with a heart full from my time there (always), albeit a little mentally heavy, to the core exhausted, with a side of low-grade generalized anxiety that seems to have become a little more familiar in this chapter of perimenopause.
There have been days when I notice I’m having a harder time tapping into appreciation, even when I know there is so much to appreciate. And I’d come to the conclusion that comparison was contributing to it.
This is something that’s crept up in my life more in recent years. And while it’s not the most blatant place my thoughts go to, I’ve definitely been noticing it in a new way, partly because I’m also watching Sebi start to do the same. And I don’t want my own narratives to be what he picks up on. My first instinct was to wonder if I was somehow modeling this for him. Was I rubbing off on him?
My therapist kindly reminded me that around his age, shame and “shoulds” naturally start to enter the picture. Social comparison is part of growing up. It was comforting to remember that he gets to have his own journey with it, just as I get to have mine.
She was generous in pointing out that comparison is data rather than evidence of something wrong. And that, ultimately, what we do with data is up to us.
I sat with this.
There is information in wanting something. There is information in noticing what catches your eye. What is it showing me about what I want, what I have, what I value, what I might be taking for granted?
When I actually looked at the things I was comparing myself to, I realized my wants were fairly modest. It wasn’t really about wanting someone else’s life. It was showing me something about what I value and what I want, and also where some of that doesn’t line up with what is currently around me or with the life I’m living right now.
That felt useful.
A dear friend has this saying: “Someone right now would love to be exactly where you are.” I think of this often and it’s a phrase that brings me back into gratitude regularly.
So I realized that my opening statement was maybe a little harsh.
It’s not lost on me, on the daily, that I have health, safety, needs met, community. That sometimes I just lie there and hear Sebi breathing next to me at night. He is safe, fed, warm and loved. There is a roof over our heads. People we love. And, when I notice someone facing a barrier, I take the steps to make that barrier a little smaller in any way I can. Or when I can be of service, it’s the first thing I turn to.
I love being proven wrong, and in this session, I ultimately ate my own words. I just had to compute the data.
Maybe the better question isn’t, “Why isn’t my life this way or that way?”
Maybe it’s: What is this showing me? What matters to me? And what, if anything, can I do with that information? Comparison suddenly doesn’t feel like it has to be a dead end.