I’m a competitive person. A good illustration is: I am REALLY fast at typing. And the reason is, way back when in keyboarding class, I sat next to a friend who was a pretty good typist. And I was determined to beat her speed, every single day. Whatever her WPM was, mine HAD to be higher. It just had to. I never told her this, but we were absolutely racing every single day.
I think, subconsciously, this mindset persists today. Everything is competitive. Women’s bodies. Our mothering. How much we’ve achieved by the time we hit 30 (oh hey, that milestone is looming for me in December). Blogging. Followers, likes, whatever. So often, I find myself in this mindset that there’s only one winner. That there’s only so much success, popularity, love, beauty, joy in this world, and someone else getting a lot of it somehow means less left over for me.
Of course I know it’s a lie from the pit of hell, but that doesn’t keep me from often living as if it’s true.
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