Battling the Comparison Monster

When the Comparison Monster Shows Up

Yesterday I was looking at my old work — really looking at it — and I got hit with this wave of mean clarity. That sharp feeling that creeps in and whispers, “Wow… this isn’t as good as you thought.”

I started asking myself:

How did I even get those art shows?

Why were people nice to me?

Did they just like me as a person and not actually like the work?

When the Fog Rolls In

It’s never fun to go down that rabbit hole. Especially when you catch a glimpse of someone else’s creative life looking impossibly full and pulled together — like they’re doing everything right while you’re just standing still, stuck, frozen in a thick sea of life overwhelm and doubts. In those moments, it’s so easy to start turning against yourself.

The truth is, I know better. I know comparison is a thief. But in those moments, it doesn’t feel like a thief, it feels like a mirror — a distorted one. And it takes work to remind myself that what I’m seeing is not the full story of anyone else’s life, just like my own creative path isn’t always visible from the outside either.

Remembering What’s Real

I’ve made a lot of art over the years. Full bodies of work. Series after series. Songs. Paintings. Charms. Stories. Characters. But when that comparison switch flips on, it’s like all of it disappears behind this fog. It makes me forget how much I’ve actually done — how much heart and labor has gone into all of it.

But I also think that feeling, this sting is part of being an artist and just deeply human. We care so much about the work. We want it to matter. We want to grow. So when I look back and think, This could be better, maybe it’s not just cruelty. Maybe it’s also a nudge. A reminder to level up in a way that feels real to me — not to copy someone else’s trajectory, but to walk my own with more clarity.

Some Artwork from my late teens to early 20s sprinkled by a few other artworks

It’s Not a Race

Being an artist isn’t a race. It’s not a leaderboard. It’s a long, weird, winding path full of quiet seasons, bursts of inspiration, years of experimentation, and a lot of invisible work that never gets shared or seen by few.

So when the comparison monster shows up — and it will — I’m learning to meet it with a little more honesty. Not to let it take over, but to listen to what’s real in that moment and gently set the rest down.

Because I’m still here. I’m still making. I’m still growing…even after all these years, I still feel like I’m beginning. Sometimes we have to stop and pull the weeds to make room for more wonder and beauty.

A Little Advice for Anyone Feeling This Too

If you find yourself in that comparison spiral, first — take a breath. Seriously. Step away from the endless scroll and come back to your center, ground yourself in the present moment. Wiggle your toes, feel all your wonderful aliveness.

Look at your own timeline. Not theirs.

Remember the things you’ve built, even if they didn’t go viral or sell out or get a shiny headline.

The seemingly invisible work you’ve done is very much real and matters. It is your marker of humanity.

Your pace is your pace. Your path is your path. Swim in the deep waters of your past creations, reflecting on the breadth of your experience and realize how much you progressed on your own journey.

It’s ok to be proud of yourself. Look back in wonder and hug your present day self by acknowledging all it took to get where you are. Be proud. And keep going. Stay grounded in you and your path.

a spread from my journals of a sketchbook meditation. An act I practice to help clear my mind and keep me grounded. I would be lost without this sketchbook practice.

Sometimes clearing a path inside yourself is just as meaningful as creating something new. By shaking off the dust crumbs of doubt and pulling away comparison weeds to get a clearer picture of yourself, it gets you unstuck and keeps you going anyway — even on the quiet, uncertain days when you’re not sure it’s enough.

It is. We are.🌿

Here’s to the messy, quiet, behind-the-scenes parts of being an artist — the parts no one claps for, the parts that build the real foundation. You don’t need to match anyone else’s timeline to be worthy of your own story.

Keep making. Keep tending. Keep showing up.

Keep the joy in your heart, always!

Angie