Provided by Carmen Rasmusen Herbert
Carmen Rasmusen Herbert shows off a fish and a makeup-free face at Fish Lake.
Whenever I look at another woman and think how much better she is at this, that, or the other, my mother’s words (quoted from Theodore Roosevelt) come to mind:
“Comparison is the thief of joy.”
I know those words are true; however, I struggle to feel the joy that comes from loving myself exactly as I am. I compare too much.
I came across two pictures on Instagram recently that had me wondering about what we are valuing as women. The first was of a reality show star gazing lovingly into her baby’s eyes — only instead of focusing on that tender, real moment, my eyes were drawn to the many white lines shooting off her face, linking to the different brands of makeup she was wearing.
Another picture was of a popular blogger promoting her business and clothing line, living in her near-perfect house dressed in near-perfect outfits with near-perfect hair and makeup. The more I scrolled these two women’s pages, the more my emotions turned from curiosity, to jealousy, to depression.
“I don’t look like that,” I said to my husband who was sitting beside me. “But, should I look like that? I mean have I just completely let myself go?”
My husband reached across the bed, lifted the phone out of my hands where it had been for the past hour, and tossed it across the room.
“Stop looking at that,” he said.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not about the women in the pictures, but about why we all care so much about what other people are doing or wearing.
I used to think I was a sort of lifestyle writer. Only, my lifestyle doesn’t look anything like the lifestyle I…