Mirror, Mirror of Us All
![](https://mishpacha.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/contributor4.jpg)
When Chumi first got married, she was clueless in the kitchen. So when she started getting the inevitable requests to cook meals for new mothers, she began to feel anxious and inadequate. “I’d look at what other people were doing — three courses, soup, salad, and dessert, and feel so intimidated. I couldn’t manage that kind of meal for my own family.”
Comparing herself to others made her want to stop doing the chesed, but she persevered. Eventually, as her culinary proficiency improved, the resentment began to dissipate.
Several years later, as she stood at her stove six weeks postpartum preparing supper for another family, the irony struck her. She’d come full circle.
Most of us are like Chumi. Comparing ourselves and our accomplishments (or lack thereof) to other women is practically woven into the fiber of our nature. But what purpose does this serve? Why do we do this to ourselves — and how can we stop?
Why We Compare
“I think it’s safe to say that this is part of our DNA,” says Baltimore-based psychologist Dr. Aviva Weisbord. “Going all the way back to Chava, Rashi mentions this middah in Bereishis (3:6). As soon as Chava ate from the Eitz Hadaas, she made sure Adam ate it too. And Rashi says she made sure he would eat it too, because she was afraid that she would die and he would marry someone else. So right from the start, Woman was worried that someone would have more than she does.”
While the phenomenon has existed since the dawn of time, social comparison theory first became a formal field of study in 1954. Since then, scientists have continued to broaden and deepen our understanding of this basic but vexing human tendency.
At its root, comparisons are designed to supply us with information about ourselves, explains Susan Fiske, professor of psychology at Princeton University, in her book Envy Up, Scorn Down. A teenager who finds herself surrounded by friends but in the bottom ten percent of her class in math might correctly conclude that she’s more suited for a career in sales than in accounting. This information can yield insight about our own abilities, as well as supply us with data to help us make predictions: Am I likely to get into the seminary of my choice? Can I expect a bonus this year?
In addition to helping us evaluate ourselves, comparisons help us fit comfortably into the larger group. Take Devorah, who didn’t grow up frum but is now raising her family in a yeshivish community. She hasn’t yet absorbed all the unspoken rules that govern frum life, so a quick check of what her neighbors are doing yields valuable pointers, from “Are my kids at an age that they should daven before going out to play?” to “Is it chilly enough to wear black tights now?”
And finally, comparisons can protect our fragile egos — sometimes. While comparisons are famous for making people feel awful, that’s not the whole story. As Fiske’s pithily titled book demonstrates, aside from being jealous of people above us (the envy up), we tend to scorn down, or compare ourselves favorably to anyone we perceive as lower on the totem pole. And there tend to be a remarkably large number of people below us.
We consistently fool ourselves, explains Professor Fiske, by awarding ourselves unjustifiably high marks in the comparison contest, rating ourselves as more capable and likeable than average, as well as less likely to suffer from negative events.
The Cost of Comparison
While comparison may be handy for gathering information quickly, it comes with some serious risks.
At the most basic, tangible level, comparison creates a material need that must be filled. Sheryl, who runs a used-clothing gemach, decries the effects of brand-name comparisons in her community. She sees families racking up thousands of dollars of debt in frum clothing stores, because teenagers constantly judge themselves according to their peers and feel a strong need to dress just like their friends.
And while adolescence may be famous for social insecurities, the tendency doesn’t just fade when you hit your third decade. Whether it’s the yichud room pearls that lose their luster when a friend receives a diamond pendant, the Poconos vacation that seems lame when women in the gym are talking about Europe, or the house that seems shabby after the neighbors’ remodel, comparisons are a major trigger for overspending.
“Families already feel bad because they’re poor,” says Sheryl. “They don’t also want to feel that everyone is looking down on them.”
Less obvious, but possibly more pernicious, is the emotional upheaval our comparisons engender. Feelings of jealousy, inadequacy, and dissatisfaction with our lot all become commonplace when we furtively check out what our friends have that we don’t.
When Devorah first got married, she found herself noticing that her husband didn’t always measure up to his older brother, who had quite the reputation: He was a successful professional who davened k’vasikin on Shabbos morning so he could help his wife and who always delivered thought-provoking divrei Torah at the seudah.
“I had this simmering resentment toward my husband; your brother helps with his kids, why can’t you do more? Intellectually, I knew I shouldn’t compare him to anyone else — it’s the classic ‘don’t do that!’ But it was really hard not to,” remembers Devorah.
Her friends weren’t always so discreet, either. One acquaintance posted chirpily about the tender way her husband put the kids to bed; another humble-bragged about the way hers did laundry. Despite knowing that she wouldn’t trade her husband for any other model, Devorah couldn’t help but feel a twinge when she heard the gallant things everyone else’s spouses seemed to be doing.
“Even a casual comment can cause comparisons. It may not be something I’m really jealous about, but it can make a little chip in the foundation. Relationships are hard enough as it is, we don’t need extra trouble.”
Sometimes, the result of comparing ourselves to others is not jealousy of what they have, but an internal condemnation, when we judge ourselves as falling short of what others are doing or accomplishing.
“I have a complex about other people’s success,” says Esti. “When I hear about someone who has a demanding job but is still an amazing mother, I wonder why I can’t manage to juggle all that. I always try to reassure myself — well, you bake muffins for your kids’ breakfasts and always have fresh salad at supper. But why do I even need to go there? Why does her life have to cause all this self-evaluation?”
Hearing what other people can successfully handle throws her into a tailspin, Esti says, and she feels a need to justify why her life is set up the way it is. “I feel like there’s this contest going on — who’s the busiest, whose workweek was crazier, and whose kids are up most at night. If I’m not performing at the outer limits of my capacity, somehow I’m less than my friends.”
A Passing Problem?
Is comparison a problem that will eventually disappear on its own, like acne and high school politics? The answer depends on the person.
For many women, Dr. Weisbord observes, the passage of time assuages this particular challenge, yet she has also seen many women whose inner critic follows them throughout life.
Susie, in her sixties, says that at her age she’s finally able to put other people’s successes out of her mind. “At this stage, I’m more sure of who I am, I don’t have to prove myself to anybody. I think that when you’re more established, you look at your own accomplishments and not at what someone else did — I’ve made the world, my family, myself better in a small way.
“I understand now that Hashem doesn’t want me to be that girl I went to school with, He doesn’t want me to be Super-Teacher, or Super-Mother whose kids are all matching.”
Susie is less optimistic about today’s young people being able to extricate themselves from this challenge. With a proliferation of choices, it’s harder to shut out the comparisons. Whereas nice Jewish girls once had fairly limited choices of careers, cuisine, or vacation destinations, young people today can ogle their peers’ wide range of luxuries and successes, dangled enticingly before them via an array of channels.
That’s certainly Daniella’s experience. In her late twenties, she actually feels that her tendency to compare is getting more pronounced as her life proceeds. As life becomes more complicated, with more pieces to feel inadequate about, there are even more things to compare.
Susie’s friend Esther sees it differently, though. Echoing the teaching of the Midrash, that without a degree of competition there would be no progress, she says, “I think everyone continues comparing all their lives. Yes, as you get older, you tend to mellow out, feeling you’ve come a certain distance. But to some degree, if you want to keep growing, you have to do some comparing; you can’t rest on your laurels. It never really stops.”
Cause for comparison
“Erev Shavuos, I saw everyone’s elaborate Shavuos tablescapes on Whatsapp. I’d bought tulips and napkins and that’s it. I was feeling so bad!” remembers Frieda. “I knew something was terribly off about my reaction, so when Yom Tov came I got dressed and went to my neighbor’s house. She said, ‘Frieda, I didn’t even set my table yet!’”
That was Frieda’s rude awakening to the subtle power of social media. We feel connected with people when we share pieces of our lives, but it can be hard to remember that most people don’t share all parts of their lives equally.
“Social media’s a nightmare,” agrees Devorah, “because people tend to share the happiest parts of their lives. I’m not taking a picture of kids eating cereal again and my sticky kitchen floor. For that they can look at their own kitchens. If I make a nice breakfast, I’m much more likely to put it on Instagram. Why? ‘Look at me, I’m a great mommy, I made waffles’?”
Another factor contributing to unhealthy comparisons, says Dr. Weisbord, is when there’s a communal focus on superficial attributes. When mothers searching for shidduchim for their sons insist on a “top girl,” with very specific ideas about what constitutes “top,” or when ads promote a high standard of materialism, it’s inevitable that we start measuring ourselves against the high standards being promoted.
And finally, people who live in denser Jewish communities tend to suffer from the “frog pond effect.” When there aren’t many peers to compare ourselves to, we tend to think pretty highly of ourselves; put us into a pond with lots of similar frogs, and we start evaluating ourselves more poorly when we notice all the people who outdo us in a variety of ways.
“I used to live ‘in town,’ but we moved out,” says Ayala. “There aren’t as many people around to compare ourselves to, and now that I’m not doing it as often, I’ve gotten used to being more introspective.”
Breaking the Habit
Putting a stop to our tendency to compare requires a twofold approach, coupling inner work with an enhanced understanding of life’s complexities.
To minimize the emotional toll of comparisons, it’s helpful to adjust our sights and learn to view the world through more accurate lenses.
Often, we’re only seeing a small piece of the puzzle. This realization dawns on people when they find out that the idealized picture they had of someone else’s life was not complete — when they learn that the cousin whose family pictures show adorable, smiling kids really has a secret illness, or that the successful businessman has an anger management problem and is never home to play with his kids.
But understanding that the world is a complex place doesn’t have to entail this kind of schadenfreude, where we comfort ourselves by imagining all kinds of skeletons in our friends’ closets; it’s as simple as realizing that every trait and situation has implications that are both positive or negative, depending on your perspective.
Chumi used to wistfully compare herself to her friend, who has an organized home that purrs along happily on healthy routines. When Chumi had a baby, her friend expressed sympathy for the upheaval caused by the irregular schedule, late-night feedings, and general chaos associated with a new arrival.
For Chumi, that was a lightbulb moment — she realized that though she aspires to be more efficient and structured, she has a much easier time with spontaneity and changes in routine than her friend does.
Similarly, a teacher she admired once clued her in on the secret of her success. When Chumi expressed envy about her teacher’s accomplishments, her teacher was quick to let her know that something always fell through the cracks — whether it was laundry that wasn’t folded or grilled cheese for dinner, the picture wasn’t as perfect as it appeared when she stepped in front of the classroom looking like she had it all together.
Others find that being the object of another’s comparison helps them understand that we never really know what’s behind another’s facade. Ayala is one of those people whose kids are always in adorable matching outfits. It’s not her doing, though; her well-to-do mother-in-law loves to shop. When Ayala realized that other people probably look at her and wonder, “How does she have the time for that?” it helped her realize that there’s often more to any situation than is obvious at first glance.
Still, it takes more effort to get to the root of the tendency to compare; even when we reassure ourselves there’s a reason someone else’s life looks better, we’re still comparing, albeit doing simultaneous damage control. Truly uprooting the comparison drive requires digging deeper.
On an internal level, says Dr. Weisbord, comparisons can only take root and fester when we don’t have a strong sense of self. She offers Helen Keller by way of analogy. Keller, who was blind and had never seen color, purportedly could tell what color she was wearing based on the subtle reactions of people around her.
“We go through life blind; we only know what color we’re wearing by watching everyone else,” says Dr. Weisbord. Someone lacking true self-awareness and understanding of herself will go through life blinkered, relying on others for knowledge of herself.
Citing Rabbeinu Yonah in Shaarei HaAvodah, Dr. Weisbord explains that in order to serve Hashem, the first thing a person needs is self-worth: the knowledge that she’s a valuable individual.
She remembers advising a client who suffered from low self-esteem to look in the mirror twice daily and tell himself, “I am a kind, intelligent, worthwhile individual.” Figuring she should practice what she preached, she tried the exercise herself and was surprised by how unnatural it felt. Yet once we come to value ourselves, it’s easier to rely on our own internal compass instead of looking to others for direction.
Frieda found that learning to focus on herself this way was liberating. “Growing up, my family considered focusing inward to be selfish. But an outward focus can breed comparison. Now, I focus inward: What do I want to get out of this Shabbos? What is the point of my attending this wedding?” By consciously shifting her attention to the things that she personally prioritizes, Frieda is able to free herself from concern about how she measures up to others.
Ultimately, only a focus on internal yardsticks instead of external benchmarks can help free us from the pressures of comparison. When Chazal in Pirkei Avos asked, “Who is rich? Who is wise? Who is strong?” the answer was not based on percentiles; it was based on deeply personal criteria.
The Torah’s prescription for contentment: shifting our target for comparison away from our neighbors and friends, and instead learning to measure how much we’ve accomplished relative to our potential greatness.
Quieting the Inner Critic
Here, some tips from the trenches:
- Keep a list of your husband’s strengths on your phone or in a notebook. When you feel down about something he doesn’t do, review it to lift your spirits.
- Abstain from social media, or at least use it mindfully to connect with others. Instead of skimming quickly through everyone’s smiling photos, try to use it as a platform for genuine communication.
- Have a rav. If you have guidance you can rely on (e.g., “At what age should girls wear long sleeves?”), you won’t need to check obsessively to see what others are doing.
- Invest in close relationships with people who can keep you grounded, reminding you of your unique strengths.
- When faced with someone who makes you feel inadequate, reframe! Instead of asking, “Why can’t I be more like her?” think, “I’m happy for her; what can I learn from the way she manages?”
- Simply can’t stop comparing? Choose your comparison targets carefully. Choosing inspirational people who are slightly superior to you in personal development will spur your own growth; comparing yourself materially to those who have less will encourage gratitude.
(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 608)
Oops! We could not locate your form.