I had one of those apples to oranges moments a couple of weeks ago and again last week. The one where I compared where I was to where I believed someone else was and then despaired over it. Compared my insides to someone else’s outsides. And it wasn’t just a moment, it lasted a couple of days. I sat with it willing it to wash over me.

There are many women writers and bloggers online I greatly admire. I feel honestly lucky to be able to read their writing and be moved by them. And in a wobbly moment, I found myself thinking, “I really can’t write like that. Not that well.” Which is partially true. I write the way I do and they the way they do and our writings are sometimes as good in different ways. But each of us is always the best person for the “being us” job.

Fiona and the digger from Barbi Dream houses on Shalavee.com

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Until you get a rejection letter and those other people get published on Huffington Post the next day. Then, as you’re trying to be gracious and share and support them, they go and get published again. And they gush at how they can’t believe it. That’s when the girl with the new Barbie Dream House needs to go suck it.

Seems my definition of myself in my head is the girl who’ll never get the Barbie Dream House. I don’t drive the right pink sports car. I don’t hang out with the hip Kens. And even Skipper thinks I’m weird and shoves me towards those Bratz dolls. But this gal with the new Barbie Dream House who I’m trying so hard not to envy? She’s also the gal who would out herself in a snappy momentito for feeling begrudging of another’s success.

drawing on the porch from Barbie Dream House on Shalavee.com

So I took my time and I let that possible resentment go into the cosmos. And I resigned myself to resubmit something else to Huff Post and something else again. Because her hard work and my hard work are commendable and the apples and the oranges might be fruit but there are many many different factors in having them flourish and be added to fruit salads all over the globe. Styles and editors and forces that be just need to have the antes upped.

And no one is begrudging me my Barbie Dream House but me.

If you have any thoughts, please drop a word below in the comments. Or

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  1. Thanks for sharing. It’s so hard not to compare ourselves. I totally know the feeling.

    I laughed out loud at the “Skipper/Bratz” doll comment 🙂

    Stay strong. You’ll get your dream house!

    PS: The picture of that actual Barbie dream house is amazing!

    1. Thank you so so much Ronnie. I appreciate your support. Really really really. Because you showed up and said it sister. Dream house picture totally was the biggest I could find. And I am rooting for you to be write about me and my dream house.

  2. Huff post wants certain themes in my opinion. Read this on a search though -a blogger heard an an interview with Arianna a Huffington and she emailed her what she asked for and got published ,,,”I heard an interview with Arianna Huffington last year, and she gave her personal email and encouraged listeners to email her articles that redefine what success is.”
    Research the crap out of it and Godspeed . Oh and it’s just exhausting being jealous, drains all juices. The only people that may get to me are the peaceful enlightened ones with massive energy and a butt that is not touching their knees.

    1. Sadly Melissa, I have a direct line to the editors from the Blog Conference I attended in June. I mean direct. The mistake I made was to offer them the wrong thing. I think I may have known this. So now I have the opportunity to go back through all of my really well written stuff and find one more and another to submit until I crack the code. Thanks so much for believing I have what it takes Melissa.
      Ps Send more pants, Please?

  3. That crazy ass house would just give you nightmares. I’m happy you are keeping on keepin’ on. Comparison is inevitable, we all do it, kudos to you for letting it go.

    1. Yes we all do do it. Ha. And sitting with this was very interesting like looking at a scraped knee as it oozes blood and thinking how much it stings but you can’t take it back to right before you fell so you might as well do something about it. And then watching it heal and forgetting how it happened. And buying knee protectors. Except my knee protectors need to be more and more and more submissions. I let that one go but I need to avoid the next one by action. Thanks Yellie. See you Friday!

    1. I’m glad you finally got a chance to read it Emily. I think you are magnificent.
      We’ll see if maybe this piece is something Huff Po might want. Ha. Ironic twist that would be.
      Love Ya’,

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