One thing that would make me infinitely happier is to stop comparing myself and my life to other women’s lives.
I used to be pretty full of myself. In high school and college, I was pretty convinced of my general superiority and awesomeness. Things have changed. I’ve lost that old confidence and zest for life. Bloomington and grad school have pretty much beaten it out of me. I’m not saying that my old state of mind was based on reality or truth. In fact, I think that most of the hubris was a self-defense mechanism that I needed to propel me to do things that scared me. Like moving to New York, dating men, and coping with any social situation by being really outgoing and bubbly instead of the shy little homebody that I felt like on the inside. So, maybe I wasn’t being entirely authentic, but it sure felt a whole hell of a lot better to pretend.
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing with my life right now. Along with that, I’m not sure how “good” I am anymore. And so I’ve found myself looking to other women my age to see what they are up to and maybe not directly comparing myself to them but certainly gauging my reaction to their examples.In terms of personal lives, I feel really ambivalent. There are some married/engaged/coupled people who seem really happy and in love. So that’s great for them. And, of course, there are the women who seem unhappy or clearly settled for a loser. So that’s probably not so great for them. But what the hell does this have to do with me? I guess the settling down or finding the person you are going to hitch your carriage to just seems so pervasive, and I wonder why all of these other people have been able to do it (for better or worse) and I haven’t. Most of this comparison derives from my facebook feed which is really a terrible way to go about assessing one’s life in comparison to others in my social network. All of the people who are desperate, lonely, unattached, infertile, and fighting with their spouses tend not to publicize that information on facebook, so I am unable to make the downward comparisons that could potentially validate and bolster my self-esteem. But the whole cutesy couple thing and boopsy baby thing are plastered everywhere, and I start thinking the type of thoughts that I should be having at age 35 instead of 25.
I really shouldn’t give much merit to those types of comparisons, but I question whether it is wearing me down to some extent. Have I lowered my standards? I recently wrote about how I have a 90% rule and list of dealbreakers, and that is true. I think that I’m pretty clear about what I’m looking for. But then I think about some of the recent men that I’ve been involved with, and I honestly wonder whether my college self would have approved of my recent choices in men. And if Younger Me wouldn’t have apporoved, is it because I’ve matured and become more accepting or because I’ve resigned myself and become more desperate? Well, I don’t think that I am desperate because I definitely didn’t allow it to go very far, so I do have standards. Right now, I just need to execute a successful dating sequence with somebody who does meet my standards even if it short-lived in order to get my mojo back. I don’t want to make poor decisions because my confidence is shaken.
The other type of comparison that I make is a professional one. And surprisingly, I’m not entirely comparing myself to other grad students. In fact, I have been reading a handful of blogs by really cool women who live in different cities, and I am so jealous of them. It reminds me of reading teen magazines when I was in high school and forming this idea of and desire to “have it together” – outside, inside, everything. And now, with these bloggers, when I read about their lives and their fashion and romances and interests, I wonder if I would have a more interesting, fashionable, romantic life if I lived in a city and did something else. Again, I am comparing myself to this little tiny internet world of insight that I get into someone else’s life and make judgments based on that…WHICH is stupid. And I know that.
So the moral of the story is that I should probably stop the internet inquiries into other people’s lives and just start living my own life on my own terms. And who knows? Maybe someday an off-kilter, quarter life crisis gal will flip through my facebook photos and read my blog and wish that her life could be as awesome as mine.