At least once during my six week Fearless Writing Workshops, I say to the women attending: Comparison is the key to unhappiness. And while I know this is absolutely true, I still do it.
If I want to take a fast train to feeling miserable, all I have to do is compare myself to the novelist, Ann Patchett. To me–a novelist of literary fiction for oh these many years–Ann Patchett exemplifies the kind of success and good fortune as a writer I have only dreamed of. (Her novels include the NY Times bestseller’s Bel Canto and State of Wonder.)
She is a wonderful writer, and I read just about anything she writes. Recently, I finished her latest book, a collection of essays, called The Story of a Happy Marriage. In these essays, she reveals a lot about her writing life, as well as her non-writing life. She writes about her book tours: not only the United States tour but the UK and Australia tours, too. (Just so you know, only the super successful authors are sent by their publishers on book tours these days, especially out of the country. Not that I even want to do them! But when you are making comparisons, it doesn’t even matter.)
With every turn of the page, I couldn’t stop comparing her life to mine. It doesn’t help that we are about the same age and she lives in Nashville, Tennessee where she grew up. I grew up in Knoxville, only a couple of hours away, so we’ve both lived many years in the South. As teenagers, we may have even ridden the Triple Ferris Wheel in Opryland at the same time! Yet there are also many things we don’t have in common and weren’t meant to.
While I was raising daughters as a single mom, she chose not to have children and went to graduate school to get her M.F.A. at the prestigious Iowa Workshop. Even as a girl she knew she wanted to be a writer, while I was clueless until I was in my late 30s. She is also trim and fit (alas, I am not) and writes books that win things like the Pen Faulkner Award and The Orange Prize in the UK. The list goes on and on. What makes matters worse is that in the shadow of her glowing career, I totally forget any talent or luck I might possess.
Clearly, it is not my journey to be Ann Patchett. It isn’t anybody’s journey, except hers. Nor is it her journey to be me.
On most days, I wish her every success and cheer her on. But my point is this:
Comparison is a total waste of emotional energy, not to mention precious self-confidence. Energy that we could all be putting into creating something beautiful. Like a book or a friendship.
Thankfully, I don’t succumb to comparisons often, or I probably would have quit writing a long time ago. However it does seem to be something we humans do. Women especially. It’s as if our culture (and the media) requires us to be competitive.Requires us to compare ourselves to other women in order to get some amorphous prize, like male attention or otherwise approval from the powers that be. However, unless we’re picking out a melon in the supermarket, comparison seems to be a senseless exercise.
We need to stop this. Life is hard enough.
The truth is, Ann Patchett’s life, I would guess, is just as challenging and wonderful as mine. I imagine, as a writer, she may struggle with some of the same things I do. And–though this is hard to believe while in the midst of comparisons–if she knew me personally and read my work, there might be some things she would admire.
We never know what a person’s life is really like. We project an image onto them–what we imagine their life is like–but it usually bears little resemblance to their real life. This reminds me of another truth:
Nothing is as it seems.
All of our heroes and heroines fight external and internal dragons. No one is exempt. Some of our heroes only look the part and haven’t done the real work that would make them worthy of our admiration. Regardless, it takes courage to step out into the arena and do what we feel we are meant to do, whether it is on an international stage or in our own small town.
To short-circuit the comparison/misery cycle, I sometimes make a list of all I’ve accomplished, overcome, as well as things I’m grateful for. Gratitude blasts even the darkest of demons away. I’ve also been known to tell my inner critic (the master of comparison) to f**k off. This technique gets a nervous giggle when I recommend it to the fearless women in my groups, but it really seems to work. It also helps to say it more than once and LOUD. Caution: It is probably not a good idea to do this around small children, in front of your elderly parents, or on the subway.
In conclusion, my question to you is this: Do you compare yourself to others and make yourself miserable, too? Have you found ways to overcome or avoid this temptation? If so, please comment. We could all benefit from your wisdom. Of course, if you want to commiserate, I’m up for that, too.:)
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Happy birthday and congrats on being YOU! I agree, comparison is harmful and also pointless. Each of us truly is a unique blend of a genetic throw of the dice and our upbringing, and therefore, we have our own journey, one that should not be judged as better or worse than anyone else’s, just different.
Happy birthday! Your advice is welcomed and timely.
happy birthday! and well said, as usual. I fall under the spell of comparison far more often than I like to admit, but I am also so thankful for what is uniquely mine in this trip through life. thanks for the reminder!
Does comparing your ability with the ideal you see in your own head count as a comparison?
Lee Smith is a neighbor of mine and a lovely person. I used to want to be Lee until her son died.Broke my heart to talk with her and learn of the pain she encountered and will continue to encounter over losing him. It’s my largest lesson in understanding that all lives have some pretty serious shadows.
Great post, Susan. You rock!
Another thought:
> Nothing is as it seems.
One of the major *major* themes of Entertaining Welsey Shaw.
Thanks, Anne. You often help me remember that even our children have their own journeys, even though those journeys merged for a time.
So nice of you to say, Cheryl. Thanks for taking the time to comment! 🙂
Hi Wendy,
It does feel like a spell, doesn’t it? So then the quest becomes how to break the spell (or pattern). Gratitude really helps. Thanks for stopping by. xo
Absolutely John. It is impossible to reach an ideal and so we sabotage ourselves. We disqualify ourselves before we’re even in the game. A lot of people do this. I’ve done it many times myself.
Words of wisdom, for sure, Barbara. Lee Smith is wonderful, and your insight is a good one. We all have our heartaches, as well as our celebrations. Not to mention, none of us get out of here alive. So we might as well live our own journeys as deeply and completely as we can.
Very cool major theme, John.
Always such wisdom and honesty…thank you….we are in Costa Rica, loving lots of down time including the opportunity for reading…a beautiful country of mountains, greenery, rivers, waterfalls…exquisite animal and bird life…it reminds me of you and the places that have been near and dear to you.
Sounds wonderful, Diana. Thanks for taking the time to comment while in the midst of what sounds like paradise. Safe journey! xo
I love your Ann Patchett birthday blog. What a great present you gave yourself, and all of us, to bring to the foreground that devilish tendency toward comparison that we harbor so deeply within.
Recognizing and naming it is the first important step towards exorcising it–or at least getting on speaking terms so you can call it into account: “Hey, are you back again? I thought we had this out. Back off, will you. I’ve got better things to do!”
It’s a beautifully written piece that hits a huge nerve. I, and many others I’m sure, have copied it to read to myself again whenever I start to waver.
Thank you, Jeanette. What a wonderful comment! It feels like a birthday present in and of itself. Notes of appreciation, like all the comments here, mean a lot to writers and help us keep going through some of the lonely years.