Running My Own Race

I used to think I was behind in life.

It didn’t matter what I had achieved, how far I’d come, or how many personal milestones I had quietly reached—there was always someone doing more, getting there faster, or doing it better. Social media made it worse. I’d scroll through images of friends traveling the world, launching businesses, getting engaged, buying homes, and chasing dreams I hadn’t even dared to speak out loud yet. With every scroll, I felt a quiet sting of inadequacy.

I wasn’t unhappy with my life—I just wasn’t sure it measured up. I questioned everything. Was I successful enough? Confident enough? Was I enough?

The comparisons didn’t stop at achievements. They crept into my personality too. I envied the ones who were always sure of themselves—loud, bold, magnetic. I, on the other hand, often felt like I was living in the background, just trying to figure things out quietly. I wanted to be seen, but I wasn’t sure how to take up space the way others seemed to do so effortlessly.

The truth is, comparison is a thief. It doesn't just steal your joy—it steals your peace, your self-trust, and your clarity. It puts you on a racetrack you never agreed to be on, against competitors who aren’t even playing your game. And no matter how fast you run, you feel like you’re always behind.

One evening, after another long day of feeling “not enough,” I sat in silence and asked myself a simple question:

“What if I just stopped?”

What if I stopped looking sideways? What if I stopped measuring my worth against someone else’s highlight reel? What if I allowed myself to trust the timing of my life, even when it didn’t make sense to anyone else?

That moment changed everything.

It wasn’t a dramatic transformation. I didn’t suddenly stop comparing myself overnight. But slowly, I started noticing when it happened. Every time I felt jealousy or insecurity creeping in, I reminded myself: You’re not late. You’re just on a different path. I began treating myself with more kindness. More patience.

I started celebrating my quiet victories. Waking up early. Going for a walk. Reading a chapter of a book. Saying no to things that drained me. Drinking more water. Smiling at strangers. Making my bed in the morning. These weren’t things I could post about, but they mattered. They were signs that I was growing—even if the world didn’t see it.

I also learned that even the people I envied had their struggles. Everyone is fighting battles they don’t post about. Everyone has days when they feel behind, invisible, or uncertain. No one really has it all figured out—we’re all just trying to do our best with what we have.

Eventually, I found peace in understanding that life isn’t a race—it’s a journey. There’s no finish line, no scoreboard, no prize for getting there first. The only thing that truly matters is that you're growing in a way that’s real for you.

Now, when I feel the urge to compare, I check in with myself:

Am I better than I was yesterday?

Am I listening to my own voice instead of everyone else’s?

Am I showing up for myself even when it’s hard?

If I can say yes to any of those questions, I know I’m doing just fine.

And the best part? The more I focused on my own path, the more peace I found. I could finally hear my own voice again. I could move at my own pace—slow, steady, and intentional.

Because I’ve finally realized: the most fulfilling way to live isn’t by running someone else’s race.

It’s by running my own.

At my pace.

In my shoes.

On my terms.

And that—finally—feels like enough.