If comparison is the Thief of Joy, I've been robbed!

Is it primal?  

• Do we women see each other as competition as a throwback from competing for the alpha male in the cave so we could have offspring that would survive?  
• Where does this come from?  
• Do all of you suffer from it too?  
• Or is it just me?  
• Do you compare whatever you do against what other women do?

My mom raised me to distrust women and never get too close or share too much. I had only guy friends in high school. It was great.  No competition, no backstabbing, no mean girls, no silent treatment, no exclusion from parties – just lots of adventures and great memories. 

In college I tried a lot of things "my mama done told me" were not ok.  It’s part of the college experience.  I became one of the girls she had warned me about who would distract and lure me away from class, sleep, rules, and good grades.  And I had a ball.  It was my social education that first year and a half.  I enjoyed lots of late night talks, future dream sharing, sharing clothes, makeup, shoes, term papers, fears of being enough, giggling til we wet our pants, eating ice cream right out of the carton after keeping it frozen on the ledge outside our dorm room. I made my lifelong best friend, Marlene, at college. 

And I learned that girlfriends were going to be my saving grace to make it through life.  And yet...

The comparison and competition continued into motherhood.  

• Was my yard tidy and weed free enough?  
• Did my girls' braids measure up to the other little girls?  
• Did my son’s baseball uniform look as white as the other boy’s?  
• Was my toddler talking as well as the neighbor kid?  
• Did I lose my baby fat fast enough?  Or at all?  (My baby is 32 this year – still working on it!!)

As a granny, compare and compete situations are fewer. But I get my nails done every month. I have fragile brittle real nails that break below the quick so I super reinforce them with acrylic and gel.  And I like how they look – so crisp and clean and even.  Yes, verging on prideful about them. 

So today, the day after new nails, I’m with some dear ladies and my eyes go to their work worn hands and my brain compares my newly manicured hands to them.  I hated myself for it.  I love these ladies.  They have gifts and skills I’m striving for.  And still my brain compared my hands to theirs.  And yes, it stole my joy of being with them. I’m repenting as I type.

Also, I think when I over analyze situations and add my flair to every event (maybe just in my brain) I am also stealing my joy.  Comparing how they chose to execute an occasion with how I would have done it. Could I try just attending and enjoying?  

Is that the primal brain again trying to improve things for survival?  The toddler brain I like to call it. 

Hear it?  “Anything you can do I can do better.  I can do anything better than you!”***

I’m committed to changing my “tune”:

“I am amazing and so-o are you-u.  You are amazing and I-I am too!”  Sung to the same tune.

Everything DOESN'T need a spreadsheet analysis and a rating.  What if we just, as John Lennon said, "Let it Be." 

Let you be.  Let me be.  Let us be. (Again, don’t know who he is?  Google him!)

***from Annie Get Your Gun