Is Comparison Really The Thief Of Joy?

As I sit here in this cafe during the heat of college admissions and rehearsal season, I think to myself: Is comparison really the thief of joy? This quote, which my parents and friends have always imparted to me, has never quite stuck or resonated. I have found that in my times of disappointment, upset, or even defeat, hearing this has served absolutely no purpose. This topic came to my mind for this week's segment because, in times of low self-esteem or confidence, how does one NOT compare themselves? It is so easy to look around the room and see what others have, perpetuating your negative sense of self. However, how does one learn to mitigate that voice and rise above it? That's the question that I want to explore today.

As a dancer, I think it's in our nature to strive for perfection. While this can be a great limit to hold yourself to (because it's nearly unachievable), it can also cause you to really burn out. Fast. When I constantly push myself to be better, I find that the outcomes can be one of these two things: a) I can and will probably improve to some extent, or b) I can become easily upset if my actions aren't quickly gratified. These concerns affect dancers not only in their artistic careers but also in their academic and extracurricular pursuits; dance creates a foundation for serious discipline, but at what cost can these become counterproductive?

A perfect example where it's crucial to ask yourself these questions is during Nutcracker season. You're with your peers daily in a class setting, but once those casting sheets arrive, it seems everyone’s out for themselves. Your priorities change—you become increasingly competitive, exhausted, and burnt out, all because of the roles you aim for. You observe all of your friends being cast in the front row spots, and, quickly, you lose sight of the passion that you once had, telling yourself that your work is not sufficient or enough.

Scenarios like these are so common, as I have literally spoken with countless dancers and friends of mine who understand. Even though the competition isn’t explicit, it is underlying, and only those with strong confidence in their ability can withstand it. In my many years of Nutcracker-ing and dancing in general, I have found that it is so important to remind yourself EVERY DAY how much you genuinely love dancing. Envision yourself on that stage in front of millions, blast that music in your headphones—do whatever it takes. You have to believe in yourself and your raw abilities before you begin relying on external validation to fulfill the hunger for perfection.

The next time you see someone get your dream role, transport yourself to a stage. Whether you’ve performed on one or not, it doesn’t matter. Your confidence cannot be supplemented from other sources, and although this is not the advice that most dancers want to hear, I feel as though it is the only consistent one that can guide me during times of despair.

So, back to the beginning... Is comparison really the thief of joy? There’s nuance to this answer, but I think low self-confidence is the thief of joy. Comparison originates from low self-confidence. If you work hard and remain happy in your abilities, you know that no teacher, peer, or production can interfere with that.

To close off, I want to quote something a friend once told me after a summer intensive. It was the summer of 2023. I was at the Alonzo King Lines Ballet Summer Intensive, and I was feeling extremely tired (during those programs, we danced a minimum of 6 hours every day for 3 weeks). Upon the casting for our showcase, someone once told me, "Teachers will come and go, but you will be with yourself forever." You may have a teacher who dislikes you or a teacher who really believes in you, but after all, your relationship and time spent with that person is temporary!!! What a relief! You get to learn from so many people, understand their advice, and take their impact with you wherever you go. At the end of the day, though, it’s what comes from inside first. You will be a dancer, and you will be there for yourself forever.

Thanks for reading, everyone. I hope you’re able to take something from this because it is definitely something I needed to hear myself.

Love,

Marielle