There is so much beauty in being as connected as we are today. With one scroll, we have access to different cultures, languages, and experiences that broaden our understanding of the world. We can keep in touch with old friends, share in their milestones from different hemispheres, and create space for new relationships to bloom. It’s an advancement that, at its best, can bring so much enrichment to our lives.
Yet, woven into this constant connection is a quiet undercurrent of comparison. It sneaks in as we scroll from highlight reel to highlight reel, curated snapshots from that festival you’ve always dreamed of attending, or the next not-so-soft relationship launch. These posts can easily distort reality and magnify a sense of lack. It becomes almost effortless to internalize the message that we’re behind, that we’re not doing enough, or that we’re missing out on a season of life meant for someone else.
With comparison often comes anxiety—an insistent presence that seems to come from every direction. It tells us we need to be more: more successful, more attractive, more put-together. It whispers that our lives need to uphold a certain aesthetic, our bodies need to look a certain way, and our milestones need to be met on someone else’s timeline. And in the middle of all this noise, even in a crowded room, we can find ourselves feeling isolated.
Admittedly, I’ve been guilty of placing my worth in external things—productivity, career choices, relationships. I’ve longed for the lives and achievements of others, believing that if I just had what they did, I’d feel accomplished. But what I’ve come to find out is that the idea of accomplishing anything is subjective, and chasing those fleeting things only left me burned out and disheartened. They mattered, in some capacity, but they weren’t solid ground to build my self-worth upon.
So I’ve made a conscious decision: instead of defining myself by what I do or can offer, I choose to root my value in who I am. And joy—true, quiet joy—is always found there.
Practicing this shift in self-talk is a daily choice. It means trading thoughts like “I wish my life looked like theirs” for gentle reminders such as “what is meant for me will come in its own time.” This isn’t easy. Some days, it feels more like a chore. But I’ve come to see gratitude like the sun. Although it may not be seen and felt at all times, there’s an inner assurance that it will always rise at the break of a new day.
Joy can be found in the smallest moments. It’s taking yourself out for coffee and savoring the solitude, walking a little slower during golden hour to admire the light, buying flowers just because. Sometimes it looks like letting go or setting boundaries. There is profound beauty in the mundane, and it becomes more evident when we release comparison to welcome joy.
People need other people. You are not weak for wanting or needing support. If you’re seeking professional help, we encourage you to use TWLOHA’s FIND HELP Tool. If you reside outside of the US, please browse our growing International Resources database. You can also text TWLOHA to 741741 to be connected for free, 24/7 to a trained Crisis Text Line counselor. If it’s encouragement or a listening ear that you need, email our team at [email protected].