I compare. I compare a lot. In fact I think I'm one of the worst people about this that I know of. I mostly compare myself to others. Sometimes I think I'm better, sometimes I think I'm worse, but I'm almost constantly doing it.
One of the people that I compare myself to most is my sister. I think this is one of the things about me that drives my youth pastor crazy. He probably tells me at least once a month, "Anna, don't compare yourself to your sister."
Let me tell you about her. She has been a success almost from the point of birth. She has succeeded in almost everything she has attempted. She is a beautiful, smart, talented girl. When she was a little girl, she was backing state representatives into corners while lobbying with my mom. When she was 9 years old she read "Color Me Beautiful" and revamped her wardrobe according to color and clothing style to match her palatte and body type. She collected over 100 beautiful vintage hats while working as a clerk for an auction service when she was about 16. Also when she was around that age, she arranged an entire fashion show for our church's spring tea. In Toastmaster's she wrote her speech about fashion history and did all of her own illustrations. When she was 17 or 18 she was an assistant in a preschool class, and was later appointed to take over for the teacher. She has always been far more mature than the kids in her age group, and also very spiritually mature. She is a very tidy person, a wonderful cook, extremely creative minded and a hard worker. She is now in NYC attending a school to become a fashion designer. Her teachers love her. She is apparently a dream student. The only class that I hear her say she struggles in is Spanish.
Tough act to follow. I have always been more of a social butterfly than she is. People usually like me. I can't explain why, they just do. That's about the only thing that I have over her, though. Someone once told me that she was jealous of me, and I couldn't imagine why. I have nothing that I think she could possibly want. I think this person said it was the attention I get from guys. Me? Go figure? I don't think I'm attractive at all, and I'm so annoying I don't know why any of them would even want to be around me. So when this person said this, it floored me.
I have always looked up to her. I haven't always liked her, I haven't always gotten along with her, I haven't always shown respect to her, but that respect has always been there. I look at her, I look at me, and so the comparing begins. I always come out of it completely down in the dumps. I look at her life and think, "Wow, that is something that I can never be. I'll never be able to measure up." Sometimes I feel like my parents compare me. I'm sure they don't and it's all in my head, but I feel like I'm a disappointment waiting to happen. Sometimes it seems like she is their pride and joy. I sit there listening to my mom beam about how Lydia is succeeding at school, how she is the group leader in her Campus Crusades ministry, how she has this amazing man that she's going to marry... I'm so happy for her, but I wonder, "What have I done that makes my mother beam? What do I have to do? Do I have to go to college? Do I have to be an outstanding success?" Sometimes I don't feel like it's alright to be normal.
I think of myself as a little daisy sitting at the roots of my sister, the beautiful magnolia tree. Her fragrance is wafting through the air, and people say, "Isn't she wonderful? What more could someone ask for? Her parents must be so proud!" Are they proud of me? Is God? What on earth can God use daisies for? Does he pick up the little flowers who have been trampled on by people so busy looking up at the trees?
I have never been mistreated or neglected by my parents. I know that they love me and want the best for me, and I'm sure they don't expect me to become everything that she has.
I love my sister so much, and if there's one person in this world that I could be like, I'd want it to be her. I know she wouldn't want me to compare . It probably makes her feel just as bad as it made me feel when that person told me she had been jealous. So why do I do it? Even I cannot answer this question.
Daisies are good for something, right?
Anna
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