How we kill our own joy, and how to bring it back
One way that we kill our own joy: comparison.
The demon has been on my radar since third grade, when I decided that cool people were short. I was tall for my age. I literally measured myself against others.
As much as I’d like to say that I’ve totally outgrown this pestilent trait, au contraire. It still comes up, and my adult version — now infused with guilt and shame — feels worse.
Here’s a prime example. About a year ago, I gave birth to a baby girl. She is absolutely perfect, and she’s had a number of health challenges. At 16 months, she’s already had four surgeries. More are on the way. Over a dozen different specialists follow her for issues ranging from her eyes to her toes. It’s a lot.
If I’m not careful, I fall into the comparison trap with my little one. I dwell on what she has to go through and how she’s tracking in relation to other kids. It can be a dark pit, and when I’m in it, I completely miss the miracle that she is.
Comparison in the parenting world is rampant. Let’s face it, even if my kiddo didn’t have her own set of challenges, I’d find other reasons to deem her — or more truthfully, myself — a winner or loser (both forms are destructive).
Of course, this complex comes up in other contexts, too. It’s everywhere. We judge ourselves against what other people have, what they can do, how they look, what they’ve accomplished, etc. It’s probably human nature. It’s also self-sabotaging and it feels awful.
I find that the best remedy is to remember the bigger picture. I am so grateful for my baby girl. In one word, the antidote is gratitude.
Whereas comparison involves locking in on a narrow view, blowing that up and missing everything else, I try to take a step back, to actually see what’s in front of me, and explicitly call out how great those things are.
If comparisons get you down, too, I hope this perspective helps. For me, bringing more direct attention to the icky inclination has helped me to stop slaughtering my joy and instead build it up.