I’m too tired to compete with you anymore.
I’m too worn out and overwhelmed and distracted to care about what you have that I don’t.
And it feels absolutely wonderful.
Many of the things I love the most in life are based on being better than others: running, writing, social media, teaching, parenting, being female, lifting weights, heck, even following Jesus seems to be a competition at some point. Having more readers, having a better finish time, having cuter kids, having smarter kids, having better, more impactful words, having more followers, suffering more for Jesus, overcoming more than someone else, being skinnier, being prettier, having more students pass the test, reading more books, doing more.
Making someone else less so that I can be more.
I don’t want to be a part of that mentality, that race, anymore.
The older I get, the more I’m drawn to the broken and cracked. I would like to pretend I am doing this because of Jesus, those are the people he would hang out with, but if I’m completely honest with myself, that’s probably not the reason. I just need you to be honest with your life and I’ll be honest with mine. And if you’re not, I just don’t want to be a part of it–it’s not healthy for you or for me. You set up unhealthy expectations for your life and through that, I get damaged by them. I find myself less than. I see myself as not striving enough, not trying hard enough.
And that’s dumb because I’m not less, I’m striving enough, and I’m trying hard.
So I’m done competing with you.
Last week I ran a race with my dad. I was feeling strong and fit, ready to race. But when I got done, I was still bummed with my time. Not because I was racing anyone, but because I knew I could do better.
I want that to be my main motivation in life, knowing I can do better because I know myself well, realistically and honestly. Not because I’m comparing myself to anyone else.
I save all my race bibs and write the date of my run, the distance, and my official finish time on the back. I ran the same race last year so I pulled out the old race bib to see what my time was. Last week, I ran 24 seconds faster than I did last year. That doesn’t seem like much time, but to a runner, 24 seconds is a lot. Suddenly, I was proud of my effort and time–I was faster than I was last year.
I was my only competition and it was enough.
Sometimes I see someone on social media that has a bazillion kids and they’re all dressed in cute, coordinating outfits and everyone is not just smiling, but LAUGHING, because their life is so awesome and wonderful. And then I think about how I only have two kids and sometimes I tell them to shut up when I’m grouchy and on Sunday Harper wore her Easter dress to church with knee-high storm trooper socks and combat boots and then she ended up on stage in front of a thousand people to watch a friend be baptized and how do other moms do it?
On top of that, I let Ellie eat three chocolate-covered granola bars on the way to church because I took a shower and forgot to feed my kids breakfast.
I just can’t compete with moms anymore.
Mostly because I keep losing but also because I don’t want to worry about it either.
I know it’s just a moment on social media and they’ve probably had to wipe poop off the wall at some point too, but I’m just gonna unfollow you, sister. Sorry.
I hope you do the same; if I say something or post something that seems so unreal and unattainable that it made you feel pretty low about yourself, get rid of me. I have to stop letting that stuff in my life, and I hope you do it too.
The fact that I am drawn to you and your writing is indicative of your Jesus-hanging-out-with-the-broken-peeps thing. Because I am a mess, and the more I start to try and fix it, the more I know I need Him. And you. Also? My girl is only with me every few weekends (step mama sitch), and I still can’t make her a homemade meal most of the time. Please don’t ever call me Martha Stewart. I don’t like her. And also because she would faint to be mentioned with the likes of me and my dirty house. You keep doing you Mary. I’m digging it.
Homecooked meals are overrated–just love people well with McDonalds. haha. Love you, Barbie.
Honesty. I love that you always circle back around to that.
Life theme, huh? 🙂
It’s not what we have or what we have achieved but who we are that is most important. My prayer is that I can somehow live my life in harmony with the Divine Heart of God. Sometimes that means we fail in the eyes of the world. Coming to terms with our failures and reconciling that with God’s love for us is part of the spiritual journey.
Thanks for your blog, Mary. We’re all in this together.
Great advice, Marjorie! And a great goal to have.
I absolutely LOVE this post, Mary! You’re right and even when we think we have overcome the habit of comparison, something seems to crop up that tempts us to do it once again! What a blessing to read this!!
Comparison is so sneaky, you’re right. Thanks for your constant encouragement, Pam, you’re a blessing to me!
The more of your words I read, the more I wish I’d gotten to know you better when you were two doors away.
It’s okay, Cyndi–we were busy and tired. 🙂 But thank you, that’s such a wonderful compliment.
Mary, as I have said before, God has given you the gift of wisdom. I look forward to you reminding me of reality.
GEORGE! I’ve missed you! Thanks for reading. 🙂
I enjoyed this whole post. But the race running part made me laugh, because I had a race just like that a couple weeks ago. I was bummed about my time compared to another race I had just run (which I actually think was a short course, why is why I got a really good time). But when I compared with last year’s time, I had shaved off 10-15 seconds. Same story…=)
I’m approaching 40, and I don’t have time to compare anymore. That’s what I’ve learned in my 30s. Each person is uniquely gifted. So celebrate the abundance of gifts, and celebrate my gifts, and keep serving the Lord. It’s all supposed to be for His glory, not mine. So, ther is no comparison. Just cheering on.
YES YES YES. That’s what my thirties have been about–learning that wise lesson and fighting so hard to not compare. Cheering on is the best way to say what I want to do. (And congrats on the better time! It seems so insignificant, but it’s not!!)
I won’t be getting rid of you, haha! You have been a great role model for me. Thank you for your honesty and for talking about Jesus 🙂
Aww, Brooke. I love you–honestly. 😉