She was Colombian and Thai. The one before her, French and Black - both dancers. And just like that, I felt so ... plain. It's silly and not real, yet valid. That 10% of me that still feels inadequate from time to time. All I imagined was them being super beautiful with nice ass bodies, flexible AF and great in bed. "Bitch, that's you?!?!" not one, but two girlfriends of mine said. I had an "a-ha" moment and just like that, I remembered who the fuck I was.
Ya bitch been practicing the splits and lost 5 pounds and counting, OK?
I promise I didn't spend anymore than 10 minutes comparing myself to these women and in retrospect, the moment was a blessing in disguise. Comparison may be the thief of joy, but it's also almost instinctive and it doesn't always have to be toxic. It's important to not compare yourself to others, but it can also be hard not to - especially if you're so used to it. And that's alright. I think it's more important to not obsess over it and understand that another person's gain is not your lost.
She might have bigger boobs, she might have a "better" job than you. Her skin might be flawless and she may know how to surf. But she'll never be you.