I was getting my hair cut and colored recently (shoutout to Tess, the hair wonder!), and I heard myself say, “I’m not sure I’m hip enough to do that”.
And then I heard another statement in a similar vein from a different person; this one was, “I definitely don’t have the skillset or the reach to do that, but…”.
YOU GUYS. (and, ahem, SARA, LISTEN TO YOUR OWN ADVICE.)
It’s time that we believe in a world of abundance. A world where all can have enough, in which scarcity is a lie, in which comparison is, as Lara Casey says, the thief of everything.
For perspective…here’s a list of the comparison-based lies I’ve told myself over the course of ONE DAY, friends:
- I could never pull off highlights in a punchy color like pink.
- It’s amazing anyone bothers to read any damn thing I write, given the ish I spew out on a not-regular-at-all basis.
- She’s had one child and looks amazing. I’ve had two children – nearly five and seven-and-a-half years ago, respectively – and I look like THIS. Whoa. I need to get. it. together.
- I wonder if my kids feel loved by me, their Mama, or if they just feel like their Mama is a lady who yells about getting dressed in the morning.
- My dog ripped up a foam football in our living room about three weeks ago, and I am still seeing chunks of purple and orange foam in my carpet. I can’t even take care of my people and my canine, and I’m thinking about, seeking MORE out of life? I’m certifiably crazy.
In other words…IT IS TIME FOR THE LIES TO STOP. I’m talking to myself here, too.
Jordan’s told me seventeen billion times that I need to speak more kindly to myself, and while I’ve always known that he is right – ugh, so annoying when that happens #amiright – I just can’t seem to DO. IT.
The Enneagram 1 in me justifies these lies I preach to myself because I clearly am not perfect, and since perfection is the only option (according to my brain…), I must not only tell myself the ways in which I’m falling short, but I also must BELIEVE what I tell myself to be FACT.
The “living with anxiety” version of me recognizes these lies as distortions that need to be flipped, yet the flipping is so complicated and difficult that sometimes, I just ALLOW MY BRAIN TO BELIEVE THE LIES.
So what’s a girl to do to STOP steeping herself, like a mug of lukewarm tea, all dang day in thoughts of comparison?
I don’t have answers, friends. See above – I allow my brain to believe these tea-soaked lies a lot of the time. But I’ve gotta believe there’s a small, small contingent of you who have figured this out, or at least a bunch of women like me who are EXHAUSTED by the never-ending rounds of battle against comparison.
Where’s my Muhammad Ali to knock out these lies? Where’s The Rock to People’s Elbow the heck out of these distortions?
And if these buff dudes aren’t coming to my aid…well, thank the incomparable God that there’s therapy.