COMPARISON IS THE THIEF OF JOY - (THE MINUS OF BEING A FANGIRL)

COMPARISON IS THE THIEF OF JOY -
(THE MINUS OF BEING A FANGIRL)

Do you admire many creatives, and look at what they achieve with and both marvel and awe? I know I do. And then under the surface, have that twisty feeing of being inspired but also have that sneaky overwhelm of jealousy and envy too? 

Sometimes it feels crushingly like the whole world seems to be doing better at this than me. But that's usually when I am tired, have a zillion things going on, many commitments, perhaps poor health, or some sort of knock back that puts me off. But it is there. And I hold onto the knowledge  that such comparison stuff is a shitty thing to do, and probably not helpful much. I know it, you know it. But we still do it.

we are all individuals...

So. We come to it. There are two creatives I really admire, and I have fangirled them forever. I have read about them in blogs, magazines, interviews, admired their work, bought their books and products. Fangirl me. I love seeing what they are doing, but then sometimes think ... I could have done that, only I did not of course!(And NO I am not going to tell you who they are)

I wish I could BE them, truth be told. I love their homes, their collections, their sass, their talent, the world that seem to have created for themselves with their skill, motivation, drive and ability. Their huge following. Their success. Sigh.

I used to try to frame myself through the lens of what I had seen them do, how I thought they might be. I thought I could try to model myself on them. Which is ridiculous, I know.

One of them does not have kids, so automatically they are on a different planet. And they are young, much younger than crusty middle age me. 

The other one is as pretty and as whippet thin as a model, with a perfect looking family, and delicious house, but who never ever reveals much of themselves on any platform... whether it be in print or online. Nothing too personal, all very edited and refined and cool. It is all very controlled. I am sure they are lovely, but there is never any cracks in the veneer of perfection. 

And that's the problem. Because often I feel I am just full of cracks, a hellishly detailed spiderweb of them. Zillions of them, going every which way. And if that's not bad enough, I wear my heart on my sleeve, and long long ago I let any pretence of perfection slide away. I tell the world how cracked I am.

I chastise myself. Why do I feel the need to share this shit? Should I just be like my little heroes and be all edited and marketed just right, and then maybe my followers, my fan base, my customers will broaden and I will be more successful? Should I edit my Instagram and Blog feed to be full of sunshiny, lighthearted, don't-you-want-to-be-just-like me posts.

I wish I could. But it just would not seem authentic and honest. I could try I suppose. Yes, I do love in a beautiful house, full of treasures and personality. Yes I have a wonderful husband, and 3 intelligent beautiful funny children. Yes I live a creative life. Yes, I have a lovely garden, a work in progress that I think is magical. Yes, I live in a beautiful part of the world. Yes, I have lovely friends and a very clever, well travelled amazing extended family.  Yes, I do go on some fab holidays and do cool stuff.  

That's what I could market, sure. It is one version of my life. And it is awesome sauce, no bloody doubt. But the flip side is not so tremendously awesome. The cracked bits. (I am not going to tell you what they are by the way right here and right now, because that would be careless and boring.)

So I guess the thing to do is to try to remember that like anything we see on social media, or media in general, it is all edited. It is all just a version of what might be. One type of reality. One of many many versions.

 everyone is different...

Even though I think these 2 creatives are truly fabulous, I am sure they have cracked bits too? Just maybe they hide them better than me. So which brings me to this. To edit, delete, or to push publish? Hmmmm....