Vidita Mishra, Cultural Secretary, Laurels International School
The whistle blows, and she begins to run with explosive energy. In a race, the presence of others can indeed be a powerful fuel; the sight of a competitor can pull us forward, sharpening our focus and pushing us to dig deeper—a force that drives many athletes to peak performance. But there is a fine line between being inspired and being distracted. For this runner, the initial glance to gauge her pace turns into a constant, anxious turning of the head. Instead of a rhythmic stride, her steps become uneven as she fixates on who is ahead. This is the subtle trap of comparison: when we spend more time looking sideways than forward, we lose the cadence of our own journey. Someone focused solely on their own lane sprints past, a reminder that while competition can ignite the spark, it is unwavering focus on our own path that carries us to the finish.”
The Two Faces of Comparison
There are two kinds of comparison. The first is the one we do to ourselves. The second is the one done to us.
When we compare ourselves with others, it can sometimes be a spark. We see someone’s success and think, “I want to try harder too.” Thomas Edison, for example, is said in his biography to have failed more than a thousand times before inventing the light bulb. He once explained, “I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.” Imagine if he had quit midway because another inventor had moved faster.
But too often, comparison steals more than it gives. It takes our joy and replaces it with restlessness. As one old proverb says, “Comparison is the thief of joy.”
Borrowed Dreams
Think of it this way: when we compare too much, we start living someone else’s story. A student who loves painting may suddenly chase top marks in math just to match a cousin. A talented athlete may give up practice because a friend is better in studies. In trying to shine in another’s light, we forget to glow in our own.
At school, I have seen friends who draw wonderfully well or speak brilliantly on stage, but the moment results are declared, their happiness fades. “I’m still behind her in math,” one of them once whispered to me, though her debate had won applause from the whole hall. Isn’t that sad — when someone’s true strength feels small just because it doesn’t match another’s score?
As a famous line often misattributed to Einstein says: “Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing it is stupid.”
The Comparison We Don’t Choose
And then comes the second kind of comparison — the one we do not choose. It arrives in words spoken by parents or elders, most often about marks.
- “Look at your friend’s result!”
- “See how disciplined your cousin is!”
At home, I’ve seen classmates dread the moment report cards are handed over. A child who is brilliant in football or music feels their worth shrink because someone at home will say, “If only you had studied like so-and-so.”
But these comparisons rarely build. They break. They press us into boxes that were never ours, and with time, the spark that once made us unique grows dim.
One famous story is of Michael Jordan, the legendary basketball player. In school, he was once cut from the team because his coach compared him to stronger players. But Jordan did not stop. He used that rejection to practice harder — comparing himself only with his yesterday. The world later called him the greatest basketball player of all time.
Why We Must Break the Habit
So why do we still compare? Maybe because it feels natural. But natural things are not always helpful. Imagine if every flower in a garden compared itself to the rose. Would the marigold, the sunflower, or the jasmine ever bloom?
The truth is, comparison begins very early. I remember in primary school when prizes were given out, some children cried not because they had done badly, but because their friend had done better. I have also heard seniors say, “I scored more than last time, but still not as much as him.” That is how comparison tricks us: even progress feels small if it doesn’t outshine someone else.
What if, instead, we compared ourselves only with our past selves? What if we chose to measure growth not by someone else’s footsteps, but by how far we have walked from yesterday?
As a line often credited to Emerson goes: “Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.”
A Different Way to Look
Life is not a competition where we must outrun everyone. It is a journey where each step forward matters, no matter the pace. Olympian runner Usain Bolt once said that while he only ran for 9.58 seconds to set the world record, it took him years of training and patience. Behind those few seconds stood endless days of improving his own best.
Why not, then, say to ourselves: “I don’t have time to compare with others — I am too busy working on myself.”
The Gentle Question
At the end of the day, the only true comparison is with the person we were yesterday. That is where growth lives. That is where meaning begins.
And perhaps the question is not whether we are better than others, but this: are we better, wiser, kinder, and braver than we were yesterday?
