Their Success Is Not My Failure

As I sat down on my computer this evening, I saw several witty posts by a friend and a familiar stab of jealousy hit me:  “Why can’t I be witty like that?”

It’s taken me all of my 37 years of life to (almost) master that ugly, envious side of me.  Now when it rears its ugly face, I can usually remind myself, “Their success is not my failure.”

I love that phrase.  For so long, I thought others’ accomplishments implied something was wrong with me for not achieving the same.  No joke, I couldn’t even look at the Family Circle magazine without seeing a picture of a mom who had an organized file system for game activities to do with her kids without feeling like I was the worst mom ever.  Why didn’t I have a file system?  When Pinterest came out, oh man, that was rough.  I refused to even look at it.  I didn’t want to feel inferior to all the moms who somehow got their kids fed, dressed, and ready for school while also color coordinating their spice rack.  I just couldn’t do it.  

A year after starting homeschool, a friend convinced me to check out Pinterest for school ideas.  I grumbled and moaned and finally conceded.  And you know what?  It was awesome!  For the first time ever I didn’t feel inferior.  I wasn’t jealous.  I was relieved!  Here were all these creative activities and crafts that other way-more-creative moms had put time and thought and effort into creating and sharing with the world.  And I could use them.  I could just hit the print button on the directions, accumulate the supplies, and let my kids go at it.  It was brilliant.  It was life-changing.  And it saved me because for the first time I realized that I didn’t have to be as creative as those moms.  That there was nothing wrong with me for not thinking of those crafts myself.  In fact, it was okay that I didn’t even really like crafts.  Why was I so jealous of their abilities that I didn’t really even care to acquire?  Why did I put so much pressure on myself to be able to do everything, even things I didn’t really want to do?

And that’s when it all started to hit me:  I am good at the things I care about.  I may not be able to sew but I can crochet.  I may not sing but I can enjoy listening to music.  I may not create a Harry Potter themed birthday party but I can admire those who do.  Their successes are not my failures.  When I see the crafty-cutesy things my friends do with their kids, that doesn’t mean I am a bad mom.  It means I do different things with my kids.  I have different strengths.  And that’s okay.  Not only okay, but that’s great.  I can appreciate those strengths about myself.  I realize that the world is a better place because we all have different talents, interests, hobbies, and success stories.  Because we are all successful in our own way.  

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