Be honest.
Recently, I was at the gym. Mayberry is an active community with a lot of retirees, so on weekdays I see a lot of them on the treadmills with a few moms like me sprinkled in. At 44, I’m no spring chicken, of course, but I’ve been a runner for a number of years so I fit right in at the Mayberry equivalent of Average Joe’s Gym.
With about a half mile to go to finish my run, an attractive African-American woman hopped on the treadmill next to mine. I have seen her once or twice before, but I’ve never spoken to her and know exactly nothing about her other than what she looks like and that she comes to the gym.
I was feeling frumpy and fat and tired that day, and my thoughts quickly turned to … I wish my arms looked like that … WOW, she has some great shoulders … Oh, to look that good in compression tights … and so on.
But then I stopped myself.
Why was I comparing myself to her? It certainly wasn’t making me feel any better – just the opposite. I was obsessing over all the little things I don’t like about my body, some of which I can’t change, and some of which I could (if it was a priority to me, which obviously it isn’t). I couldn’t just be thankful that I’m healthy and able to run for miles and miles.
I catch myself in the comparison trap at other times, as well. When I see other preschoolers without the tell-tale edge of the pullup peeking out of their shorts, I resent that I can’t take Nathan anywhere and everywhere in regular underwear. I wish Sarah Kate could run and play softball as well as I think she would have been able to without cerebral palsy – that is, as well or better than her peers. I want to be the mom with the typical child for awhile.
The comparison isn’t limited to my children’s peers, either. Right now, I’m not just comparing Sarah Kate to other children, but to the child she was last summer before the big growth spurt and surgery took away what little athletic ability she had.
But it’s not just comparing up that’s a problem. Comparing down is an issue, too.
I feel guilty when I take Sarah Kate to physical therapy and see kids who will likely never do what she can do. I feel uncomfortable when I see teens or adults with Down syndrome whose expressions tell me they aren’t as engaged with the world as Nathan. I didn’t feel that our family deserved the wonderful gift we’ve been given, because I know there are other children whose health issues are more involved, or whose families have fewer resources than we do.
Comparison steals my joy, over and over again.
It doesn’t matter if I’m comparing up or comparing down – what I’m doing is not only unhealthy (who needs that stress?) but just plain wrong. Not only should I be grateful for what I have, rather than wishing for more, but I should focus on being grateful for generous gifts (or just our good fortune) rather than worry about whether they’re deserved.
I struggle with accepting gifts (and compliments, for that matter). I’m always worried I’m not appropriately humble or grateful so I either downplay it (so it doesn’t seem rote or fake) or I go overboard (and then I’m sure I’m being perceived as fake). I don’t know why I’m weird like that.
But when I do those things – compare up, compare down, downplay a gift or compliment, insist I don’t deserve it, or go overboard with showing my gratitude, I’m making things about me that shouldn’t be.
- Nathan isn’t fully potty trained, but he’s So. Much. Fun. to be around and gives the best hugs in the world.
- Sarah Kate struggles with mobility, but she is smart and funny and has a lovely singing voice.
- All those other kids in the therapy office have challenges, but they have wonderful unique qualities just like my kids do – I just don’t know what they are.
- And finally, the generous gift from Magic Moments is just that – not a reward that was earned, but a gift freely given.
Like all of us, I’m a work in progress. In the main, I’m happy with my life and circumstances and if asked, I don’t think I could come up with a single thing that I need to make it better. Are there things I’d like to have? Of course! But do I need them? No. I have all I need, save one thing that only I can provide: a conscious decision not to let in-the-moment comparisons steal my joy.
Gman is getting to be the age that E was when I first met her. I think I am starting to do a lot of comparing between him and who she was then. That is something I need to stop doing. G might need to be guided a little bit more than E did at this same age, but he is still smart and can be driven and committed to something even if it is not the something I might need him to focus on at the time. And hands down he is the most sarcastic 8 year old I have ever met.
I think that’s natural for all parents – even “steps”. 🙂 It seems that many of friends have that struggle, but even more so when the siblings are very close together and of the same sex. My friend Dawn has two boys who are only a year apart who have very different personalities – she does an excellent job of parenting them individually, but I know it must be a struggle, as even their teachers do that sibling comparison thing. A couple of different friends of mine have had both of their children in the same elementary teacher’s class at different times with wildly different experiences. One friend loved her older child’s kindergarten teacher so much she requested the same teacher for her younger child … then ended up pulling the younger child out of the school altogether after several months and moving him to private school because things were so difficult.
I do a lot of comparing my older son with my little guy. If only E could do what B can do! I compare sets of brothers who run around outside playing and wish I could just send them out in the yard..but E can’t navigate our yard. I have been comparing him with all his pre-k friends. Ugh! You’re right…so much to be thankful for. My little man can READ, and he’s 4. Like, without me teaching him….he is hilarious and gives the best hugs, kisses, and “I love yous!” ever.
You know, that’s one thing that I think a lot of special needs parents struggle with that I don’t. I think it’s because not only do both of my kids have special needs, but the things they struggle with are essentially the opposite of each other. The things she does well are the areas where he is weak, and vice versa. It’s also hard sometimes for me to figure out what is developmentally typical, because Sarah Kate fell on both ends of the spectrum at different times (i.e., she walked very late, but she spoke very early, and so on). I guess in that one area, she prepared me for him. 🙂
This is Nicole- I met you Staurday morning. I have “Comparison is the killer of contentment” stuck to the side of my computer monitor, to remind myself not to do this, but it is sometimes a struggle- and it shouldn’t be. I am so lucky. My husband is my inspiration though. He is the happiest person I know- he wants exactly what he has and nothing more. I’m going to be more like him when I grow up.
Thank you for your blog- it made me laugh AND cry. I wonder how many people you touch that way.
Thanks so much, Nicole! It was great meeting you!
Andi, your kids are awesome. I have a lot of friends with kids and some are less fun than others to be around. Yours are genuinely great to spend time with. Sarah Kate is so smart and engaging and a joy to talk to. And Nathan is a laugh riot. That kid is a total ham.
They do spread joy wherever they go – but in very different ways!
Ugh. All too often. I swear it’s just something built into a woman’s DNA. Why is that? Why do we beat ourselves up? (whether we’re comparing ourselves or our kids or our husbands or our house or… or…. or….) I try so hard not to, but that feeling creeps up way too often and it never leads to good feelings, even in that situation when I see things in my life “better” than others. Let’s just make a pact not to compare!
I’m sure some sociologist or evolutionary biologist or (insert credentialed expert here) could give us a lengthy explanation of WHY, but in our first world relatively cushy society it’s just not necessary or even healthy anymore!
Thanks for the shoutout and so glad I’m fooling you! It is a struggle, as you well know, to parent two polar opposite children. You feel like “I’ve got this,” after the first one, then BAM, totally different kid. It’s like starting over.
It took a loooong time to stop comparing and worrying so much over my two, especially my younger one, but I finally realized that I was missing all of the awesome things my kids ARE because I was focused on what they were not or what they were’nt compared to other kids. They are individuals with individual gifts from God (a theme He has been shoving in my face using everything from church sermons to Steve Harvey’s appearance on the Jimmy Fallon show) and it’s my job to help them find what those are, not try to make their gifts something I think they should have.
You are doing a good job with this blog. Sharing your beautiful family is helping others all over the world and in your backyard. That’s your gift. I am grateful for you and even though I don’t deserve you as a friend, I’m not gonna give you back!
This is a great post!! 15 years ago when I had all small children, I would tell them almost daily that comparison is the root of unhappiness. I really feel like I was able to see each child as an individual and rarely compared them at all, fast forward my youngest two ( I have 9 blessings all together) are twin boys and twin B is autistic. He is barely verbal and at age 5 five has had no success with potty training. Now I struggle all the time with comparison. Every milestone that A hits only seems to spotlight the fact that B hasn’t come close yet. Days can go by during which I am able to see each boy as his own person, then I am blindsided by some glaring difference. Too often I do let that steal my joy….Thanks for the reminder that holding that joy is my choice!