Nancy sat on the edge of her bed, the soft glow of her phone casting shadows on the wall. It was late, but she was wide awake, scrolling through social media, eyes darting from one post to another. Perfect lives, perfect bodies, perfect careers. Everyone seemed to have it all figured out—except for her.
Her best friend Angela had just posted a picture of her new promotion. “Head of Marketing,” the caption read. The photo showed Angela in her sleek office, smiling confidently. Nancy couldn’t help but feel the sting of jealousy. She had been stuck in the same entry-level position for years, despite all her efforts.
Then there was the vacation photo from her college friend Jack. He was sunbathing in the Maldives, laughing with a group of friends. The crystal-clear waters in the background seemed to mock her. Nancy couldn’t remember the last time she had taken a vacation. She couldn’t afford it, not with the constant bills and financial struggles.
Her finger paused over a picture of an old schoolmate, Natasha. Natasha had just gotten married, and the photo captured her in a stunning white dress, her smile radiant. Nancy’s heart sank. She hadn’t been on a date in over a year. Relationships seemed like a distant dream, a dream that belonged to others.
A familiar presence crept into the room—Comparison, the demon that had visited Nancy countless times before. It wasn’t a physical being, but it was real enough in her mind, slithering into her thoughts, feeding her feelings of inadequacy.
“Look at them,” the demon whispered. “They are everything you’re not. Successful. Loved. Happy. And you? You’re just… stuck.”
Nancy’s shoulders slumped as the weight of the words pressed down on her. She had tried so hard, but nothing seemed to work. The comparisons played out like a movie in her head, each scene brighter and more vibrant than the dull reality of her own life.
The demon grinned, watching her spiral deeper into self-doubt. It thrived on moments like this, when it could distort the truth and convince her that she wasn’t enough.
But here was the thing: most of the comparisons Nancy made were unfair and inaccurate. She didn’t know the full story behind those perfect photos. Angela, despite her promotion, had confided in Nancy many times about how lonely she felt, how the stress of her job was eating away at her personal life. Jack, who seemed so carefree in his vacation post, had recently gone through a painful breakup, using travel as an escape from his emotional turmoil. And Natasha? Her marriage wasn’t the fairy tale it seemed—Nancy knew from other friends that the couple was already facing challenges.
Yet, none of that crossed Nancy’s mind when the demon was near. Comparison didn’t care about the truth. It only wanted her to see the polished, filtered version of other people’s lives. And it wanted her to believe that she was falling short in every way possible.
Nancy’s chest tightened as the thoughts consumed her. She put down her phone and curled into herself, hugging her knees. The feeling of inadequacy was overwhelming. Tears pricked her eyes, and she wanted nothing more than to disappear.
But then, amidst the darkness, a small voice, faint but persistent, began to speak. It was the voice of Reason, a soft angelic presence that Nancy often ignored. Tonight, however, Reason wasn’t willing to be silenced.
“Remember,” it said gently, “what you see is not the whole story. Everyone has their struggles, their imperfections. You’re comparing your behind-the-scenes to someone else’s highlight reel.”
Nancy blinked, the tears still there but pausing for a moment.
“Think about Angela,” Reason continued. “You know how much she struggles with loneliness, no matter how impressive her career looks. And Jack? He’s hurting, even if that vacation makes it seem like his life is perfect.”
Nancy took a deep breath, the fog in her mind starting to clear just a little. She knew Reason was right. She had been comparing herself to an illusion, to the curated, filtered lives people chose to share. It wasn’t fair to her, and it wasn’t even real.
Comparison, seeing its grip weaken, hissed in frustration. “Don’t listen to that nonsense,” it sneered. “You’re still not good enough, no matter what they’re going through.”
But this time, Nancy didn’t fall so easily into its trap. “I may not have everything figured out,” she whispered, “but that doesn’t mean I’m failing. My journey is different, and that’s okay.”
For the first time in what felt like ages, she allowed herself to believe those words. Her path wasn’t supposed to look like Angela’s or Jack’s or Natasha’s. It was uniquely hers, with its own struggles and triumphs, its own pace.
Comparison slunk away, its hold loosening as Nancy chose to focus on her own progress, her own worth. It wasn’t easy—the demon would return, no doubt—but tonight, she had fought back. And that was a victory in itself.
Nancy stood up, wiping the last of her tears. She walked to the window and opened it, letting the cool night air brush against her face. In the distance, the city lights flickered, each one representing a life, a story. She was just one of those lights, and her story was still unfolding. There was no need to rush, no need to compare.
She smiled, a small but genuine smile, as she realized that her worth wasn’t determined by how she measured up to others. It was hers to define, and she was enough.
