For as long as I can remember, I cared so much about how others perceived me. I am not the only one, but growing up with divorced parents made me highly sensitive to being more like others in as many ways as possible since I was certainly different from those with parents who were still together.
I vividly remember a time in junior high when ALL of my friends were getting their ears double pierced (this was the 90s!). My parents were so against it. They felt that it would be just a fad. But I pushed and pushed. I pushed for a good six months until they couldn’t take it anymore. Finally, the day came when I got my ears double pierced.
I remember going to school the next day and being so proud that I could be just like my friends. However, I regretted the decision a few weeks later. I didn’t like laying on my pillow with the second piercing, and soon, that second piercing came out, just like my parents thought it would.
As I grew older, comparing myself to others translated into the clothes I wore, the social life I had, and the apartment that I lived in. I longed to be accepted by others, and looking back, this grew into anxiety for wanting to fit in and be accepted.
The majority of my 20s was spent chasing after that acceptance and looking back, I wonder how many bad decisions I made thinking about others’ opinions instead of my reasoning.
I was a wedding planner, and at the same time, I was planning my own wedding. I compared the wedding I was planning for myself to the weddings my clients’ were planning. I remember feeling iI would be judged f I missed one minor detail, such as favors or illuminated lights on the ceiling with our initials (totally not necessary by the way).
Once I became a mother, the comparison intensified. Not only did I want to be the best mother for my kids (which was the most important), but I also wanted to portray that I was the best mother to others.
When we were living in Chicago, I don’t think the comparison was as strong as we didn’t have many friends there who had their own children. But once we moved to Fairfield County, I compared myself to every single mother I encountered.
Why isn’t my child sleeping as well as hers? Should I do something different? Is my child in enough activities that they love? Does my child go to the best school? The constant comparison began to take over my life as I always wondered how others perceived me as a mother and if I was good enough. For me, unfortunately, the opinion of others weighed immensely on my own perception of myself and how I was doing in my own life.
At almost 40 years old, I have finally realized that what others think of you and how they perceive you is entirely out of your control.
You could be the best mother out there to some, but someone else may not think the same. Simultaneously, you could be the hardest worker out there, but to others, you may just be skating by.
Letting go of comparing myself to others has been a massive weight off of my shoulders. It has allowed me to think for myself and act for myself and my family.
