This past weekend three of my friends and I had some deep discussions about the everythings of life. The context of this is that three of us are entirely single. Never married, no children. One of us is happily married with a child. We’re all within a year of 40 or already past it. I’ve started to think of this as our mid-life crisis kick-off party.
One of the things that came up in our talk (besides some Yo Momma jokes and lotsa wicked innuendos) was the idea of comparisons. Specifically, comparing yourself to others. Within the netherworld of insecurities this may be the one I struggle with the most.
Why is it that it’s so hard to be satisfied being the best that you can be? Why do we seek out and compare ourselves to those we don’t know, want to know or even like?
This is especially crippling when it comes to romance. Comparing me to a fellow suitor for a woman’s affections is one of the worst things I can do for myself emotionally. Stupid really. And I’m not normally stupid. But I still find myself in this trap. In fact, I was in it yesterday and was able to recognize it for what it was. Hey, that’s a positive.
Regardless, this is one of the topics that have really stuck with me from the weekend, and it’s on my mind a bit. Just thought I’d share. Self esteem is a real bitch, isn’t it?
B!
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