I’ve been thinking about this for days.
Yesterday I saw a video of a guy on TikTok. He was 21, showing his setup, his apartment, his income. He was making more than me at 28. He spoke with a confidence I didn’t even have at 25. I closed the app and stared at the ceiling for a while.
It’s not the first time.
When I graduated college I watched my friends get stable jobs. I jumped from project to project not knowing what was next. They were saving, buying things, posting photos of their offices. I celebrated with them but there was always that knot. That feeling that they had arrived and I was still on the way.
Then I got the job I have now. Remote, paid in dollars. A salary my 23-year-old self couldn’t even imagine. For a while I felt like I’d made it.
But no.
Now it’s not my friends. It’s 19-year-olds on YouTube who edit better than me, who have bigger audiences, who live off what they do. It’s creators on TikTok who at 22 already have a loyal following. People I don’t even know, living in another country, people I’ll probably never meet. But seeing their success makes me wonder if I’m doing something wrong.
And then there’s the other thing.
A few months ago I posted a photo on Instagram. Ended up scrolling through profiles of guys who are 20, 21, jacked, defined. And here I am carrying extra weight. Without consistency, without discipline. I know what I need to do, I’ve always known. But I struggle to actually do it. Motivation comes in bursts and leaves just as fast. Weeks go by without progress.
The weird part is things are going well. Objectively well. Job, wife, home, health. I have no reason to complain.
But comparison doesn’t check your situation before it attacks. It shows up on an ordinary night, scrolling TikTok, and makes you forget everything you’ve built. It leaves you with just what others have and you don’t.
I’m not writing this because I found the answer. I’m not going to say I stopped comparing myself. I’d be lying. I still watch those videos, I still see those bodies, I still feel like I’m behind. But at least I don’t ignore it anymore. I stop and think: this is happening, this hurts, it’s okay to say it.
Maybe comparison doesn’t go away. Maybe you just learn to live with it. Like background noise you can’t turn off but you can turn down.
I don’t know if I’ll still feel this at 30. Probably yes.
But today, writing it out, it weighs a little less.