How Comparison and Envy Forced Me To Be Better
It was March of 2014, and I was in the middle of the first round of revisions on the novel I’d written five years earlier.
After a long day buried in my own words, I found retreat on the couch, my nose tucked in a book. I read furiously, lost in the world created by a writer much more talented than I. Hours later, I finished the book and proceeded to have a mental breakdown.
I locked myself in my bedroom, sobbing hysterically, and furiously texting Myra.
I woke up the next morning with a feeling of dread. At a crossroads, I had a big choice to make. The book had been shoved in closets, tucked in drawers and generally ignored for the better part of 5 years, so why did I feel so attached to it?
You see, I got caught in the comparison trap. For days, days I was convinced it was time to let it all go. I couldn’t do it. I’d never be good enough. Quitting, I told myself, would hurt less than failing.
It’s hard, though, to remember the behind-the-scenes work when you’re looking at someone’s finished product. Foolishly, I was convinced all these writers I so admired cranked out pure gold all the time.
It took some time. I filled those days with a lot of tears, wine, and chocolate, contemplating what my life would look like without writing.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let it go. It was then that I wrestled with the fact that if I couldn’t, in fact, let it all go, that it meant I had to do something about it.
I danced dangerously close to the line of giving it all up in the name of comparison and envy. Instead, I used it. I let that feeling sink in, fueling me.
We let ourselves confuse admiration with jealousy and comparison. If you let yourself admire someone rather than compare yourself to them, you’ll find a whole different brand of energy there.
