A few days ago, I sat on the couch feeding Eliza and while my precious baby was snuggled close to me, I scrolled through Instagram. I stopped on a photo of a girl who's maybe my age or a few years younger. She just graduated with a degree in business and now she's working at Nordstrom, in the corporate office, doing something big and important.
In her photo, she was sitting there drinking a beautiful, handcrafted latte. You know, the kind with a milky (or is it foam) leaf that sits on top of the drink. Her style was impeccable, but it looked effortless. She wore skinny jeans, gorgeous boots, a chunky scarf and the cutest leather jacket.
As I looked at her photo, I couldn't believe how different are lives are. I sit and nurse my baby, while my other two kids build a jumbo-sized fort, and she sits and drinks this gorgeous work-of-art. I stared at this photo and suddenly felt like I must have the most boring, totally blah life. Like, not just a little blah, but really blah. I was sure that yes, I am blah.
She was doing nothing wrong and I'm sure she's a wonderful person--truly, I mean that. However, when I looked at that photo, I went down that nasty road of comparison. My hair is too curly, I wish I had style like that. She doesn't have a single stretch mark, I'm sure of it. I bet she has a gorgeous home. Her photography is beautiful.....
Why, oh why do we compare?
The more I compare, the more I find myself feeling unhappy with my life and isn't that ridiculous?
The truth is that life is amazing. When I'm not comparing myself to someone, who for Pete's sake, I don't even know, it's easy to remember how blessed I am.
Tonight when I sat down to blog, I felt like I didn't have anything that's "blog worthy" to write about, but then I remembered that it's all worthy, because this is my blog and hey, I can write whatever the heck I want. And I kind of need to say that you're relevant too. Whatever you do, or whatever you want to say, it all matters.
Your photo? It matters if it makes you happy.
Your words? They matter just as much as anyone else's.
Your story? It's yours and it's important.
How can I sit there and compare myself to skinny, gorgeous latte girl and feel like I'm blah, when I'm home with the 3 most amazing kids in the world?
Life is beautiful, isn't it?