Comparison is the thief of joy. So why do we do it? And is there a way to avoid imposter syndrome?

“She finished this homework in an hour! How did it take me days to finish it! She looks so beautiful in that dress! I wonder why I can’t dress like this every day…”

Why do we compare ourselves to others? More specifically, why do we do it when it almost never makes us feel better? I mean, I was sitting in class, looking at the endless success of my peers on social media, and suddenly it felt like everything I was doing academically wasn’t good enough. The perfect grades, the scholarships, the prestigious internships—it all seemed like it belonged to someone else.

It’s the classic comparison trap, and I’m starting to think it’s not even a modern problem. Sure, there are constant, carefully crafted reminders of how well everyone else is doing on Instagram and LinkedIn now, but wasn’t comparison always a thing? Ancient philosophers probably didn’t have a digital feed, but I’d bet they still felt a pang of jealousy when their peers were praised for their groundbreaking ideas. So what is it about human nature that makes us so obsessed with stacking our achievements on top of others?

Some people say it’s natural for us to want to compare ourselves, to see how we measure up. After all, it gives us a frame of reference, a way to understand where we stand in the bigger picture. But what they often don’t tell you is that this need to compare is one of the quickest ways to feel inadequate—it points to imposter syndrome, where even the most successful of us feel like frauds waiting to be exposed.

We all know the feeling: You achieve academic success, whether it’s being accepted into a prestigious program or a glowing letter of recommendation from a professor, and instead of basking in the glory, you panic. You wonder, “What if they find out I’m not that smart?” Ironically, the people you’re comparing yourself to probably feel the same way.

Imposter syndrome is like a shadow that follows you around and shows up at the worst times. It tells you that your successes are either a fluke or not as impressive as someone else’s. It convinces you that if you just try harder, you’ll eventually be “good enough.” The problem is, there’s always someone else ahead of you — someone smarter, more accomplished, more talented. And the more you compare, the further away you get from your own success.

So how do we stop? How do we break free from the never-ending cycle of comparison and learn to take pride in our own work without feeling like a fraud? I think it starts with understanding that everyone’s path is different. Just because someone else reaches a certain milestone doesn’t mean you’re falling behind. Life and academia aren’t races. They’re more like one of those group projects where everyone plays a different role and success looks different for everyone involved.

And then there’s gratitude. I know it sounds cliché, but it’s true. When we focus on what we’ve accomplished—what we’ve learned, who we’ve become—we start to realize that our journey is valuable in and of itself. Your GPA may not have been perfect, but maybe you gained insight into what really interests you. Maybe you made it through a tough class and came out stronger for it. That’s worth celebrating.