When comparison creeps in

There’s a particular kind of pressure that seems to arrive somewhere between our twenties and thirties.

There’s no official checklist, no deadline circled on a calendar. And yet, somehow, we begin carrying around an invisible timeline of where we think we should be.

By this age, I should have progressed further in my career.

I should be earning more.

I should have figured out what I want to do with my life.

I should feel more established.

And perhaps the hardest part is that ‘ahead’ is almost always measured against somebody else.

A colleague receives a promotion. Someone you went to school launches new business. Another person seems to have completely reinvented their career.

You open social media and see somebody younger, more successful and remarkably certain about where they’re going.

Suddenly, a life you felt perfectly content with five minutes ago can feel like it’s somehow falling short.

The invisible timeline

Comparison isn’t new, of course. Humans have always looked to one another to understand where we fit.

In our twenties, there can be pressure to get started. Find the career. Build the foundations. Work out who you are.

Then our thirties arrive and, somehow, the expectation shifts. We’re no longer supposed to be figuring things out. We’re supposed to have figured them out.

There can be an age bias woven into this too — including the kind we unknowingly apply to ourselves.

We celebrate the young entrepreneur, the person who achieved something extraordinary before 30, the overnight success.

It can quietly reinforce the idea that achievement has an expiry date, and that beginning something new becomes less impressive — or more risky — as we get older.

But our lives don’t unfold in neat, linear increments. Careers change. Priorities shift. Opportunities arrive unexpectedly. Things that once mattered enormously become less important, while interests we never anticipated can become the beginning of an entirely new chapter.

I’ve been reminded of that recently through writing my first children’s book.

Being a beginner again

Writing Howie’s Kindness Club has been one of the most exciting things I’ve ever done.

It has also placed me firmly back in beginner territory.

There is something so humbling about stepping into a completely new world. Suddenly there are terms you’ve never heard before, processes you don’t understand yet, decisions you’ve never had to make and people around you who seem to know exactly what they’re doing.

And comparison has crept in here too.

I see authors with several books already published, beautiful launches, established audiences, school visits, events and full calendars. People who seem completely at ease calling themselves an author.

And occasionally, that little voice appears.

Am I doing enough?

Should I know more by now?

Does everyone else have this figured out?

What I’m learning is that achieving something you’ve dreamed about doesn’t necessarily silence comparison.

Sometimes it simply gives comparison somewhere new to live.

But when I measure my first chapter against somebody else’s tenth, I create a comparison I was never going to win.

And more importantly, I’m forgetting to enjoy my own beginning.

Comparison or competition?

I don’t think comparison itself is necessarily the enemy.

Sometimes comparison is useful.

We see somebody doing something we admire and think, I’d love to try that.

We learn from people who are further along than us. We borrow ideas. We become inspired. Sometimes, someone else’s courage helps us imagine what might be possible for us too.

The shift happens when inspiration quietly becomes competition.

Healthy competition can motivate us. But when someone else’s success starts to shrink our own experience, it might be time to pay attention.

Someone finding their calling at 25 doesn’t mean discovering something new at 35, 45 or 65 is somehow less meaningful.

Look backwards occasionally

Perhaps one of the problems with ambition is that we spend so much time looking towards the next thing. The next promotion. The next milestone. The next goal.

Our attention is constantly directed forward.

So, I’ve been practicing something different.

Looking backwards.

To remember how far I’ve already travelled.

The distance between where we are and where we want to be will almost always exist.

But so does the distance between where we are and where we started.

We just don’t measure that one nearly as often.

Keeping comparison in check

Comparison, insecurity, envy and self-doubt are all very normal human feelings.

The goal isn’t necessarily to eliminate them. It’s learning to notice when they’re beginning to take up too much space.

For me, when this happens, it can mean practising more mindfulness and getting out of my head - taking a walk, picking up a book or journalling my thoughts.

It can also mean keeping track of the small wins that are so easily forgotten once we move onto the next goal.

It can mean practising gratitude for what exists in our lives now.

We are ever evolving

There will always be someone further ahead, someone younger, someone more experienced, more confident or with seemingly fewer doubts.

But somebody else’s timeline doesn’t make ours late.

Maybe the answer isn’t to stop looking sideways altogether. It’s to remember to look back every now and then too.

To be kind to ourselves and appreciate how far we’ve come.

To be proud of where we are, while still feeling excited about who we’re becoming.

Evolve kindly, lorna x