Comparison is the thief of joy.
I wish I had written that statement.
Hell, I wish I could remember it.
This is my latest battle: more difficult than losing weight, harder than running 3 half marathons in 3 weeks, unable to leap tall buildings in a single bound.
I am not anyone else.
I am ME.
There is no comparison.
Then why do I compare myself to everybody, every day.
I have so much to be proud of, but I continuously knock that pride down because of what I haven’t accomplished.
A friend says, “Wow you’ve lost weight.”
My answer? ”I still have a long way to go”
Because I’m comparing myself to my friends who never had a severe weight issue or celebrities who can hire trainers or Biggest Loser contestants who make losing weight their job.
A friend says, “Gosh, you’re amazing. You’re running so much”
My answer? “Yeah, but I’m slow”
Because I’m comparing myself to my swifter friends who are not carrying 50ish pounds of extra weight or what Runner’s World Magazine says is a normal pace or the fact that when I log my exercise on a website a 13 minute mile is considered fast walking not running.
I keep stealing my own joy. Robbing myself of what I have done and what I continue to do.
I need to take off the ski mask and gloves. I need to stop creeping around joy like a bandit ready to swoop in and stomp it until it becomes misery and stress.
This is my life. These are my accomplishments.
This is MY JOY.
They belong to me. I can share, but they’re precious and I need to keep a close eye so I don’t steal it from myself.