Before I landed on being a
counselor, at one point I thought I was going to become a full-time writer or,
at the very least, make writing—whatever the form might be—a career. So, I went
to back to school in my early thirties to pursue a MFA in creative writing. While
there, the director of my MFA program preached about the dangers of comparing
yourself to other writers—you can render yourself not only artistically
paralyzed, but also emotionally frozen by focusing on how much better you think
everyone else is compared to you. I can honestly say, I never experienced more
than small flickers of envy and comparing during those two and a half years I
was at that program. Then, I graduated, thrust into the Real World where I
encountered a serious problem with comparing, encounters that got increasingly
more emotionally upsetting over time.
Now, years later, as a mental health
counselor AND as a client of therapy myself, I know that comparing yourself to
others is a normal and even healthy way to measure your own successes and
failures. However, there is an insidious cognitive experience that occurs when
we start comparing ourselves to others, and it’s called Social Comparison Bias,
which stems from Leon
Festinger’s Social comparison theory that states humans have an internal drive
for “accurate self-evaluations” (basically we want to know how well or poorly
we are doing), and the way that we humans get those self-evaluations is by
comparing ourselves to others, across the many domains of our lives (looks,
economic status, education, etc). Festinger’s theory was expanded upon by a guy
named Willis, who talked about upward and downward comparisons. Willis’ idea is
that in order to measure our own success, we look up (for motivation to be
better) and we look down (to feel better). This is all well and good if you can,
in fact, compare yourself to an Olympian and become inspired. Or, if you can
compare yourself to a couch potato and feel good about the three miles you
jogged. And, in my case, if you can compare yourself to someone who isn’t as
far along in the world of publishing as I am—someone who hasn’t had anything
published yet—and feel like you are progressing towards the goal of published
author.
On the surface, I was a model post-MFA student; within a
year of graduation I was launching a literary anthology, landed in Publisher’s Weekly, and was receiving an
offer from an agent. However, these successes were trumped by the failures that
came along with them. The anthology, while widely recognized and submitted to,
didn’t “take off” as I hoped. My agent and I parted ways and never landed a
deal. Within a few short years post MFA, I was sobbing in a therapist’s office,
declaring myself a complete and utter failure— a sham of a writer. I took my
failure to launch as an author to be a failure as a mother, wife, friend,
daughter, teacher, etc.
How did this happen?
Like many writers—and people in general—I spent a lot of
time on social media, and all of us are continually bombarded with Facebook
posts and Tweets that espouse successes, triumphs, and achievements. This is
such a problem that in recent psychology
studies, researchers have been able to link Facebook with depression,
making this social comparison bias phenomenon a possible cause to mental
illness! When we continually see statuses about job promotions, new
relationships, and expensive purchases or, in my case, new book deals, we start
to compare ourselves to those statuses in unrealistic ways. The bias is the part where now we actually
start seeking out information that supports this cognitive distortion that I’m a loser and everyone else is having
success! Thus, when I see the status
that so-and-so got a “fantastic” three-book deal, I start to seek out more
information about the book deal to either confirm that, in fact, I’m a loser or,
the opposite, that they are.
There were times, for a few
of those post-MFA years, so-and-so’s new book deal simply drove me to work
harder on my craft and on my research of publishers to send my work out to.
Unfortunately, more times than not, it made me feel like total crap.
However, I discovered in therapy,
this constant comparing, over time, changed the way I thought about myself not
just as a writer but also as a mother, wife, friend, teacher. What rendered me
so depressed was my thinking and my perception of myself. The comparing myself
to others I perceived as more successful, reinforced the thought, I am a failure…at everything and that thought became the lens through which I
looked at myself and my world.
Eventually, the healing came in the
form a serious commitment to Cognitive
Behavioral Therapy. By both challenging these thoughts about failure and
gathering up concrete factual evidence to both support and refute that
statement, I was able to start seeing myself more clearly. I started to examine
failure and discovered that I was equating my failures as crimes rather than
what they were, simply failures and that failure doesn’t make me a bad a
person. A bad person is many things but not someone who simply fails to get a
book deal. I also discovered that I was putting my worth into something that is
kind of equivalent to winning the lottery: saying “I suck because I don’t have
a book deal” is like playing the lottery and saying “I suck each time I don’t
win.” You can’t control winning the lottery any more than you can control if
someone wants to publish your book. All you can do is play the game.
More importantly, measuring self-worth against anything you cannot control is nothing but playing a losing game.
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