the thief

I do it all the time. I compare things. I compare prices on the shelf at the supermarket, name brand vs store brand (there's very few things I won't buy in store brand), the reviews of the new running shoes I've heard are lighter, streamlined, faster, my eight weeks uncut, roots growing out from my last color, hair to the freshly coifed (and awesomely dressed too btw) mom in front of me in line at the library.

I compare myself to those in my circle who stay home with their kids, to those who work all day and balance motherhood. I compare myself to the ones who spend the majority of their time at home cozy and warm and comfortable in their houses and those who are always on the go. I compare myself to the people I know who homeschool, unschool, private school and those who public school. I compare myself to the girls in the gym who are much quicker around the track, less flabby, longer legs.


Ugh, all this comparing takes up a lot of mental capacity, a lot of time, a lot of effort. It makes me want to change the way I stand, what I wear to the grocery store, how I carry myself and speak to those around me.

But really, it just steals my joy.

It steals my confidence in decisions I've made for myself and my family. It changes how I view my self worth, my ability to love every second of the life I've chosen, the life God has given to me.

I've been practicing stopping the comparisons in my head. I've been attempting to head off the "me/them" thoughts before they turn into doubt and jealousy.

I'm painfully reminded to block the comparisons when I view things through the eyes of my three year old daughter. She does not see the world through lenses of comparison. She sees her yellow and white striped leggings and her green shoes and her pink and orange shirt and sees a rainbow. She doesn't see the conformity that I sometimes wish she would see in a coordinating outfit. So I let her wear that outfit, because I don't know how long she'll last without seeing the comparison, and man I love her joy.