Compare-aholic treks down the road to recovery
Jeanene Harlick
Comparisons. We all fall prey to them. We all eye our peer’s
success and compare it to our own. We try to sneak a peek at the
grade of the person sitting next to us, and a lower grade on their
part instantly fills us with feelings of superiority and
accomplishment. Or we glance at another person’s body and sigh as
we wish it were ours. Americans today are compare-aholics, and this
deadly disease is crying out for remedy.
Hi. I’m Jeanene Harlick, and I’m a compare-aholic.
I’ve known it for some time, yet I am finding recovery a
difficult path. My condition is made even worse by the fact that I
am a twin. People always express envy when I tell them I am a twin:
"Oh, isn’t that great?! I’ve always wanted to be a twin!"
But in reality being a twin is very trying. Although I love my
sister with all my heart, being a twin has only served to intensify
in me this innate tendency we all have to compare.
When I was in high school, Diana and I ran track for our school.
When we first started I was faster than she, but I suffered an
injury which forced me to wear a cast for six weeks. When I came
back, she was far ahead of me in shape and much faster.
That year we both made it to the California Interscholastic
Federation section meet, I in the one-mile and she in the two-mile.
I ran the one-mile early that evening, and did not run fast enough
to qualify for the California State Meet  the meet of all
meets for California track runners. To reach it was to reach the
highest level of running in the state.
My sister ran the two-mile in the dark of night later that
evening. The top three finishers of her race went on to the State
Meet. I stood alone as the race started, away from the bleachers
full of screaming family members and friends. Hundreds gathered to
watch this qualifying race. I knew Diana had a slight chance at
qualifying for State, but I didn’t think she would, and secretly I
hoped she wouldn’t.
As Diana came into the last two laps of her race, I stared in
disbelief as she passed the girl in front of her and moved into
third. The loudspeaker blared forth this interesting turn of
events. I prayed she would fall back into fourth.
She held her place, and crossed the finish line third, to
qualify for the State Meet. I started to cry. It was one of the
happiest moments of my twin sister’s life, but the jealousy inside
of me poured forth a torrent of tears I could not restrain.
I felt like an endless, black pit of worthlessness. But at the
same time I was as small as the tiniest piece of matter, always
overlooked and impossible to see. All I could think about was the
attention my sister was going to receive. Everyone would admire and
respect her, and I would stand unseen in the shadows.
And this turned out to be true. In the ensuing weeks, Diana was
bombarded with accolades and attention for her success on the
track. It was announced to the entire school over the intercom. It
was reported at church. The local newspaper did a feature article
on her in the sports section.
I was a ghost. I felt like no one would have noticed if I ceased
to exist. Diana was the athletic twin, the good twin, the smart
twin, the pretty twin. She was the one everyone liked. She had all
the friends, and I had nothing to make people like and respect me
as much as they did Diana.
In my mind, my entire identity was based on how I compared with
Diana. I tried to be like her in any way I could. I tried to be as
nice as she was. I trained harder. I tried to dress like her. I
enrolled in all the AP classes so I could be as smart as she
was.
All through high school I constantly compared every aspect of
myself to her. And I always came out with a lower mark. I was never
good enough. This kind of thinking led to a horribly distorted
self-image. I had no self-esteem whatsoever.
So I tried to make up for my perceived defects by starving
myself. Here was an area in which I could be the best. I withdrew
into myself and entered a world of restricted calories, restricted
acquaintances and restricted feelings. Now people would notice me
and respect me because I was so thin. They would envy the
self-control I had over food.
And people did notice and comment on how thin I was. But I
didn’t realize they were commenting out of concern, not envy.
Anorexia gave me something I could be proud of, something I could
be better at than my twin sister. It gave me a false sense of
security and made me think I was happy. In reality, however, I was
miserable.
Although this state of comparison may not be as heightened in
others as it was in me, I feel we all suffer from comparison to
some degree  especially those of us who are women. We compare
our bodies, our grades, our relationships, our clothes and our
talents, among other things.
Comparison must stop. It is a blight to our existence which
breeds unnecessary unhappiness. When we compare ourselves, we
inevitably end up feeling inferior and less important. We think we
aren’t good enough, that we don’t measure up. And if we do from
time to time manage to feel superior to others through our
comparisons, it is a very superficial superiority, one which
vacillates with our degree of success in life.
I have a great fear of being just "average." I want to be
unique, noticed and respected and I think many women share this
fear. We don’t want to just blend in, so we try to be who we
aren’t. We try to be what we think society admires.
But it is time we learn to accept ourselves for who we are. We
are all different, we all have different talents and bodies. If
everyone were the same, this world would be a very boring place
indeed. We all have different areas in which we excel and we should
be content with our talents. We have to stop judging ourselves on
the basis of comparisons.
When Diana and I split up to attend different colleges, I was
finally able to create a separate identity apart from her. I no
longer use her as a gauge to measure my self-worth. I am now
content with my own talents.
And I am closer than ever to Diana. I am no longer jealous of
her every success  I’m happy for her. I can be myself with
her, and I can tell her anything. I love her more than I ever
have.
Of course, I still struggle with comparing myself to her and to
my friends. But I’m a lot better than I used to be, and the number
of comparisons is slowly dwindling.
Comparisons are odious. They are a social bacteria eating away
at the self-esteem of millions of women today. But I believe if we
can stop comparing, we will all be a lot happier, more
self-assured, and more content with who we are.
We will have better friendships, unmarred by jealousy and envy.
We will applaud our friends and we will be happy for them when they
succeed. Ridding ourselves of comparisons is so simple it’s hard,
but certainly achievable. Try it, like I did, and see how much
better you feel.
Jeanene Harlick is a junior majoring in English.