Curbs are everywhere
Turns out, our little-girl penchant for comparison grows up with us.
Turns out, women can be 25 or 55 or 75 and still trying to figure out how they measure up to one another.
Turns out, there are curbs everywhere.
The curbs are on Facebook and at the city park. There are curbs on Twitter and the blogosphere and in churches and school gymnasiums and the carpool lane.
It gets hot out there on the curb, where people's envy bubbles up like tar. We're comparing waist sizes, square footage, IQs, kids' report cards, approval ratings.
Comparison is a quiet vulture, swooping in to peck its sharp beak at our joy, our camaraderie, and our witness to the world.
We compare our trash-heaps days to someone's paradisiacal online updates. We might be tempted to roll our eyes at the precocious comments that some preschool mama quotes. Somewhere inside of us, we might be turning green with envy at another writer's bestselling book, a former colleague's success in a new business venture, another couple's second trip to the beach in a year. We might even quietly harbor a sense of satisfaction when the object of our envy stumbles.1