'I know I am comparatively successful, but not compared to the people I compare myself to.'

(From Jokes, Jokes, Jokes by Jenny Eclair)

Photo by Florian Schmetz on Unsplash

My go-to comfort watch - whenever I feel overwhelmed or anxious - is Modern Family. You can tell how sustained a period of anxiety is, by how far I get in my rewatch (I always start at season one). Currently I am watching season five, and I think I might stop soon, a sign that I’m coming out the other side. This is about average.

Yesterday’s episode was set in Las Vegas. Jay (the patriarch of the family, for those not familiar with the brilliant sitcom) has been given a free trip there and takes the whole gang. They are staying at the Excelsior and have been given special access to ‘Excelsior Plus’ level, which includes a ‘bath butler’ played wonderfully by Stephen Merchant. Everyone is thrilled and revelling in the luxury of their ‘Excelsior Plus’ status, until they find out there is another level above them ‘Excelsior Platinum’ (which includes a shaving butler) and suddenly, ‘Excelsior Plus’ doesn’t seem so wonderful after all.

I have always been competitive. I was never sporty at school, but I was clever, so quizzes and debates were my thing (did I mention I was also insufferable). I was the (really annoying) girl at school whose hand was up before the teacher had finished asking a question, so desperate was I to be the first.

As I got older, and more self-aware I realised that this wasn’t a particularly attractive trait, so spent a lot of my teens and early twenties trying to keep it hidden from prospective friends and partners for as long as possible. I pretended to be a very relaxed, chilled out person, who never thought about my performance in comparison to anyone else until I couldn’t help myself, and it popped out like a jack-in-the-box, usually during a pub quiz, or a game of Trivial Pursuit.

These days, I just accept that’s how I am made but am conscious to use my competitiveness ‘for good,’ and mainly as a way of getting better at whatever I am engaged in, using myself as a measure instead of others. Whenever I do get caught in the comparison trap, I am always, without exception, the loser.

Never have I been more aware of this than as a published author. Before I became a writer, my job was in HR. Not in the hiring and firing bit of the profession, more in the personal and leadership development discipline. I have discovered that writing. and in particular the publishing aspect of it, tests my mettle in ways I had not even imagined in that role.

Want to have all your buttons pressed/develop your resilience/find out who you really are? Publish your work.

There are so many points of comparison available to authors; self vs traditionally published, chart positions, sales, prize shortlists, events, reviews, who is invited to appear at festivals and who isn’t… I could go on, especially as most of this is posted on social media these days (which is of course only the highlight reel of people’s lives, including my own I hasten to add!). All of these can play havoc with our sensitive souls, and the expending of our limited energy.

When I read this line from

Jenny Eclair

’s fantastic memoir, Jokes Jokes Jokes;

'I know I am comparatively successful but not compared to the people I compare myself to.'

I had a moment. Those few words contain such profound truth, it’s taken me a while to unpack it, but from the moment I read it I could see that the insight it contains had the power to be transformative for me. Whenever I engage in comparison, I am always the one who ends up wanting, that’s how it works. The only person’s performance I need to keep an eye on is my own, as it’s the only thing I have any control over.

I have been thinking about this a lot lately, and I was particularly struck by JoJo Moyes BRILLIANT Substack post Things I have learned from working with really successful people which I have read over and over again, and which talks a lot about successful people choosing where to channel their energy (spoiler alert, it isn’t into comparing themselves to other people). The whole piece is so insightful, and I highly recommend JoJo’s Substack full stop.

All of this is to say that as part of my own development I am learning to stay in my own lane. To channel my energy into my own work, and less into comparing that work and its outcomes to others. Maybe you, dear reader, are more evolved than I am, and have this nailed, but I am definitely a work-in-progress (see, I can’t help comparing myself, it’s like a reflex!). What I am definitely finding is that the more I set my own definitions of success, and the more I choose to focus on the one thing I am in control of (the writing) the happier I become.