A few weeks ago, I learned to practice not comparing my struggles to others, recognizing the importance of self-focused growth.
A storm that felt straight out of a disaster movie slammed into our corner of the city. I’m talking hail the size of golf balls where we live, and baseball-sized just a bit north of us. When the emergency alert buzzed on our phones, we barely had enough time to gather the cats, grab the dog, and take shelter in the basement. Then we started to hear the thud of hail hitting the house.
The sound was deafening.
As we stood in the safety of our home, we watched in shock as the hail shattered both of our skylights, dented cars, and turned our street into a river of icy water. Once the chaos subsided, we went outside to assess the damage. It was disheartening, to say the least. But it wasn’t until I stepped into the backyard that the full weight of it hit me.
Our garden, which we had lovingly nurtured, was nearly obliterated. The wildflowers were shredded, the tomato plants broken and leafless, the squashes and rhubarb, beans, peas, carrots, onions, herbs—everything we had worked so hard to grow—bashed to bits. I felt a deep sadness wash over me, a grief for something that might seem trivial in the grand scheme of things, but to me, it was significant.
And yet, in that moment of sadness, I couldn’t help but think about how others had it worse. Some areas of the city experienced even larger hailstones that blasted through windows and walls, right into their homes. Compared to that, the loss of a garden seemed minor. Now, we enter the complicated phase.
Comparison can be both a comforting and destructive force. On one hand, comparing our struggles to those who have it worse can serve us by helping put things into perspective. It can remind us of our strength, our ability to endure, and our privilege in still having safety, shelter, and loved ones intact. After all, recognizing that others are dealing with more severe challenges can shift our focus from what we’ve lost to what remains.
However, there’s a fine line between perspective and self-sabotage. When comparison moves from grounding us to invalidating our experiences, it becomes harmful. We start telling ourselves things like, “Why are you upset? Other people have it worse,” or “You don’t deserve to feel this way when others are suffering more.” This internal dialogue, while intended to keep us humble, can lead to suppressing our emotions, pushing aside our needs, and denying ourselves the care and support we truly deserve.
So, how do we know when comparison crossed the line from serving to sabotaging? The answer lies in our emotional responses. When you notice yourself feeling guilty for having emotions, belittling your own struggles, or shaming yourself for not being “grateful enough,” that’s a red flag. It’s a sign that comparison has shifted from healthy perspective-taking to harmful self-neglect, highlighting the importance of not comparing struggles and instead focusing on our own journey toward self-validation.
Let’s go back to the garden. The sadness I felt for the loss of our plants was real and valid. We had invested time, energy, and love into that space. The garden was more than just a patch of soil; it was a source of joy, peace, and even a symbol of our connection to nature. Dismissing that grief just because someone else had it worse would have robbed me of an important emotional experience. It would have silenced my need to process and heal from that loss.
Here’s where it’s really important to remember that pain is not a competition. The fact that someone else is suffering more does not make your pain any less real or significant. Each of us carries our own burdens, and those burdens shape us, teach us, and, ultimately, heal us—if we allow ourselves to feel them fully.
But how do we know when we’re dismissing our own needs? How do we know when we’re sabotaging ourselves with comparisonitis?
Here are some common signs:
These patterns can creep up on us subtly, often under the mask of st
When you catch yourself slipping into these patterns, pause and take a moment to practice a self-compassion script. Self-Compassion scripts are something we use in my one-on-one work and group programs all the time because they are so powerful.
How to create your own self-compassion script:
Self-compassion scripts help us relearn how to be compassionate to ourselves when it’s been trained out of us. Like so many things, self-compassion is a skill, and like all skills it can be learned
As I reflect on the storm and the damage it caused, I realize that while comparison can offer perspective, it should never be used to invalidate our own struggles. The loss of our garden was a reminder of the impermanence of life and the importance of allowing ourselves to grieve, even for the small things. It was also a lesson in not dismissing our needs just because someone else has it worse.
We all have our battles, and each of those battles deserves to be acknowledged and cared for. By practicing self-compassion and validating our own experiences, we can navigate the challenges life throws our way without losing sight of our own worth. Remember, it’s not about how your pain measures up to others; it’s about how you honor your journey through it.
It took me a while to be able to go out and clean up the garden. Eventually I was able to go see what had a chance of recovering versus what just needed to get removed. The damage is both as bad as I expected, but not as bad as I expected. I know that doesn’t really make sense. But by giving myself time to grieve and practice self-compassion – I also gave the garden time.
And the garden used that time to show me what was going to survive. So maybe we both needed time to recover from the hail.
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