At What Age Do We Stop Comparing Ourselves?

When I was younger, I looked at older women and truly believed they had it all figured out. I thought the worrying had stopped. That the self-doubt was gone. That wisdom had arrived and life was lighter.

I admired them deeply — as if they had crossed into a season the rest of us were still trying to reach.

And then there was Aunt Nell.

Aunt Nell lived to be over 100 years old. Almost casually, right up until the end of her life, she would mention that she was still hoping to lose her last ten pounds so she could feel better. We smiled when she said it, assuming she was the exception. Surely by that age, most women felt at peace in their bodies. We would joke about it as if it wasn’t real.

But her words stayed with me.

Because somewhere along the way, I realized something quietly unsettling: It doesn’t really end.

• The worrying just changes shape.

• The comparison finds new places to land.

• The measuring never fully disappears.

The Role of Social Media in Comparison

I love social media. I find it inspiring, fascinating, and genuinely educational. But even with the best intentions, comparison can slip in unnoticed. And I think it does for all of us.

• If we built a career, there’s guilt.

• If we didn’t, there’s doubt.

• If we worked too much, we wish we hadn’t.

• If we didn’t work enough, we wonder if we should have.

No matter the path, we find ways to question ourselves.

Learning to Move Through Self-Doubt

I don’t have answers. I’m not on the other side of this. I feel it too. And maybe that’s the realization — that we’re not meant to “outgrow” these feelings, but to learn how to move through them with more grace.

One quote I read recently resonated with me:

“Humility is not thinking less of yourself. It is thinking of yourself less.”

When I catch myself spiraling into comparison or feeling not enough, that quote gently redirects me. It reminds me that the days I feel the heaviest are often the days I’m too focused inward. And the days I feel the lightest are the ones where I’ve poured into someone else.

What Softens the Weight of Comparison

If Aunt Nell showed me that this never really ends, my brother showed me what eases it.

Years ago, I began inviting my brother, Roger, to breakfast with a quiet intention — to make the time about him. To listen more than I spoke. To hold space without redirecting it back to myself. Roger was naturally generous in that way, always attentive, always present, so I had to be intentional about keeping the focus on him.

Those mornings became sacred.

We met every Monday for years. And I always left those breakfasts feeling fuller — grounded, connected, and lighter in a way I didn’t even realize I needed. I know he felt it too.

So maybe the question isn’t when this ends. Maybe the question is what softens it.

And for me, it’s this:

• Turning outward.

• Listening longer.

• Seeing someone else fully.

A Gentle Reminder

If you’re feeling the weight of comparison today, you’re not alone. I feel it too. And if you’re open to trying something small — the next coffee, the next call, the next moment — make it about her.

Then notice how you feel when you’re done.

This reflection is shared in loving memory of my brother, Roger.

And maybe the quiet answer we’ve been looking for isn’t found in fixing ourselves — but in remembering how deeply we’re meant to belong to one another.