Why do we compare ourselves to others?

Why do we compare our victories and our failures to that of those around us?

And why do we compare our writing journey to the road laid out for another?

There are plenty of answers to these questions, but I suspect they all start here:

We want.

Or maybe that’s not a strong enough word for what goes on inside us. Let’s use this word instead: yearn.

We yearn.

To succeed. To matter. To finish what we start. To say something important. To create art. To support ourselves. To be heard.

All noble, valiant endeavors. Yearning is not a bad thing, and these are good things to want. And because most of us learn to make art by watching others do the same, comparison happens quite naturally.

When we’re new to a skill, it helps to have a guide of sorts. Others to watch and emulate. If we’re not careful though, that guide can turn into a measuring stick.

And while it’s good to familiarize ourselves with what success in a certain artistic field can look like, where this gets tricky is when that measuring stick becomes the goal.

When that happens, we slip from wanting and pursuing noble goals to wishing.

We wish we were like that famous author. We wish we had their ideas. We wish we were better with people. We wish, we wish, we wish.

Now, wishing is lovely if you’ve got a nickel in your hand and a well to throw it into. But living in a state of perpetual wishing de-prioritizes hard work. Instead of making art, you spend your days whispering,

“If only . . .”

If only I’d been given her gifts. If only I’d had that publisher. If only I’d decided to write this story and not that one. If only I had more time.

Suddenly, yearning is not a propelling force. It’s a concrete block you carry around in your gut. And if we’re not vigilant, we attempt to create while weighed down by every If only we’ve ever swallowed. That’s quite the challenge.

Thoughts of comparison keep us living in a “what could have been” kind of moment. They do not, cannot propel us forward. And that means we must make peace with carving our own path, and we must become adept at wrangling our wants into line so that they support our endeavors rather than undermine them.

But how do we do that?

I expect it takes a lifetime to manage, and a willingness to bat down the temptation to compare, but I do have a few thoughts for you as you get started:

1. Learn from others without attempting to emulate them: There is so much to learn from others in our creative fields. The trick is to avoid the inclination to emulate another artist.

It’s a temptation to be sure. To find another author to model your journey after, but the problem is you’ll never be better at being THEM than they are. And even if you find a measure of success, you will still feel the frustration of playing second fiddle.

Instead, watch others with an admiration for their art, tempered by an understanding that no two authors are formed of the same magic. We all shine a little differently. And that’s beautiful.

So, go ahead. Learn. Try the tools that have worked for others, but don’t expect your art to look and feel exactly like theirs. If it does, you’ve traded away your shine for something akin to fools gold. And that’s sad.

2. Know when to turn off the noise: I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat up in bed, energized by the challenge of a new day, excited about all the opportunities that lay before me, only to swipe my phone awake and have all that derailed by a social media post, advertisement, or news article that makes me feel less than.

Less talented. Less beautiful. Less faithful. Less intelligent. Less generous. Less kind. Less compassionate. Less adventurous. Less financially able.

We live in an information age and while there is great benefit in that, we must be responsible for our own head space.

Regardless of what everyone else is doing, you can mute or hide or unfollow anything or anyone that causes you angst. When certain people, books, movies, websites, or accounts lead you to unhealthy comparisons, they may not be safe for you.

Be active here. Protect your creative soul. You cannot control what others put out in the world, but you can choose to turn down the noise. Be responsible for you.

3. Value your journey: We all feel inadequate at times. And this inadequacy, this impostor syndrome, diminishes our ability to appreciate our own journey.

Hear me, friend, the road you walk, day in and day out, matters. It shapes you, seeds ideas in your belly, and provides the raw material for not only the artist you are now, but the artist you will become.

You may not feel like there’s anything special about the road you’re on, or perhaps you hate that you’ve had to traverse so many dark valleys, but don’t let either of these extremes convince you that your journey can’t take you to amazing vistas.

Your road matters. It has great value. Stop wishing for the life of another, because the truth is . . .

4. You only see what others want you to see: Everyone has issues. No one has this life figured out, and most of the authors you admire have fought against their own demons to get where they are.

Some of us are just better at hiding the hard stuff.

And that’s okay. That’s our prerogative. None of us need to share more about ourselves than we’re comfortable sharing. It falls to each individual to remember that we don’t have anyone’s full picture.

In a day and age where social media is king, you are only ever seeing part of an artist’s life. And usually, it’s a very cultivated, intentional display.

It’s part of their image.

Don’t compare the raw reality of all that you are, to the bits and pieces of shine others allow you to see of themselves. That game’s rigged and you cannot win.

Here’s how you can win though:

Learn from others while being proud of who are. Turn off the screen when you’ve had enough. Don’t wish for anyone else’s road. Remember that what you see isn’t all that is.

And above all, believe that you matter. Your story matters. And anything that ties you up and makes it harder for you to do your great, important work should be resisted.

You don’t have to compare yourself to others. I realize that’s easier said than done, but it’s true.

And I dare you to give it a try.

Tell me, does the monster of comparison present a battle for you? Have you had any success in defeating it?

Shannon Dittemore is an author and speaker. Her books include the Angel Eyes trilogy, a supernatural foray into the realm of angels and demons, as well as the fantastical adventure novel Winter, White and Wicked. Its sequel, Rebel, Brave and Brutal is due out January 10, 2023.

Shannon’s stories feature strong female leads grappling with fear and faith as they venture into the wilds of the unknown. She’s often wondered if she’s writing her own quest for bravery again and again.

It’s a choice she values highly. Bravery. And she’s never more inspired than when young people ball up their fist and punch fear in the face.

To that end, Shannon takes great joy in working with young writers, both in person and online at Go Teen Writers, an instructional blog recognized by Writer’s Digest four years running as a “101 Best Websites for Writers” selection.

For more about Shannon and her books, please visit her websiteInstagramFacebookTwitter, and Pinterest.