Escaping the comparison trap

And how resentment turned into friendship

Photo by Kier in Sight Archives

Is it possible to resent someone you barely know?

Any millennial Vietnamese kid growing up in Western Washington knew about K, the girl who enrolled at the University of Washington at 16. We met once as tweens—there are fuzzy memories of the elaborate clapping game we played, the high-pitched laughter we shared, how we begged our respective parents to stay a little longer so we could continue playing.

But like any story that gets passed down within a tight-knit community about their children, the claims became more and more hyperbolic. Did you know K took her PSATs at 13? That she’s a prolific pianist, judo master, and champion swimmer? That’s great you can karaoke a Vietnamese song—did you know K is an accomplished singer? Despite our parents not being close, it always felt like every tidbit mine shared about K’s achievements carried the weight of a heavier question:

Why aren’t you as successful as she is?

In recent years, my parents’ retirement has only increased the commentary I receive about other peoples’ triumphs and failures—yearly salaries, make and model of new cars, college degrees and (lack of) job prospects. It’s only through a steady diet of Vietnamese literature that I understand their need to posture and assert dominance, to push others down, to encourage their kids to be the best and brightest because only the best survive in a country that is still learning how to be inclusive to its many communities of color. The healer in me wants to reassure my parents that they’re safe now, that they’re no longer at war, or fighting for a spot on an escape boat or refugee camp, or struggling to make ends meet on odd jobs and the kindness of others.

But I’m also a human being that gets tired of the constant pressure to be, in the words of Daft Punk, “harder, better, faster, stronger.” As I’m struggling to piece together a polite rebuttal that doesn’t involve an expletive, my phone dings with a text. It’s K, wishing me a happy new year—for being a child prodigy, she’s also one of the most thoughtful, humble human beings I’ve ever met. She was there for every shitty day I worked as a government employee, and never once cast judgment on me for cashing out my pension to freelance in an industry I knew next to nothing about. When she told me she was pregnant with identical twin boys, I shipped every gender-neutral baby clothing item in my possession; along with a set of sleep sacks accompanied with a gift message that jokingly asked her to not compare our children’s future SAT scores.

She also possesses way more tact than I will ever hope to achieve in a lifetime. Inspired by her example, I hold out my phone and change the subject:

“Hey, want to see this picture of K’s twin boys?”

Now over to you:

1. Do you have a K in your life? Have you ever encountered someone who turned out to be completely different than you expected?

2. What are your experiences with comparing yourself to others? Do you find it motivating or demoralizing?

3. Did your parents ever compare you to siblings and/or friends? How did it make you feel and why?

Leave me a comment and let me know.

WRITE 👩🏽‍💻

Between the $8 Wi-Fi, needing to re-authenticate my Microsoft 365 account, and my Kindle needing said Wi-Fi to load my books, my best intentions to write on the plane were dashed. Thankfully, my daughter had picked out a flamingo spiral notebook prior to our departure, and is generally good at sharing things with her mama. In the end, I outlined the arc of a non-fiction book idea, even though I have no idea if it will get fleshed out into a manuscript. The more I test out

Heidi Fiedler

‘s method of doing things, the more I’m convinced she is tuned into a frequency of the universe that us mere mortals aren’t privy to.

LIFE 🪁

For the holidays, we spent the first part of our Southern California adventure in San Diego, where we watched the orca show at Sea World and I may or may not have squealed while hugging Cookie Claus at Sesame Place. There is no explanation for why I have zero shareable photos of either expedition beyond 1) I was basking in the natural Vitamin D infusion and 2) My daughter was probably dragging me to the next activity. That said—one of my favorite days was flying the new kite she got for Christmas, which may be more of her dad’s toy than hers.

BALANCE 🛫

There’s nothing like arriving at the airport and realizing that your plane got diverted because of mechanical failure. Personally, I am proud that neither my husband nor I panicked to secure a seat on the next outgoing flight. Instead, we took a leisurely lunch, settling near a bank of windows so my daughter could watch the planes take off from the runway. We caught up on work; she watched a few shows on PBS, and when we finally boarded, it was validating to see that 1/4 of the rows were empty. Proof that if you just breathe through it and have faith, you eventually get to your destination.

READING 📚

Hà Nôi at Midnight by Bảo Ninh. Most of Ninh’s work is in his native Vietnamese tongue, so I was excited to find an English translation of his most famous short stories. I was particularly struck by Farewell to a Soldier’s Life, where the narrator recounts waking up to the roar of a plane while camping with his squad in the forest and feeling what he thought was rain on his eyelashes:

Leaves, then flowers, crops, and saplings fell down as though a raging tempest had passed through. Foliage in every shape and size shriveled and turned a dark brown. The grass below us was dying and changing color. In the war, I had seen much worse, more horrifying things than this, but what haunted me for the rest of my life was how the Americans had destroyed our land with Agent Orange.

STREAMING ⏯

My data scientist husband got fed up with Spotify’s recommendation algorithm, so we are officially on YouTube Music. I’m still trying to transfer over my playlists and aggregate enough listening data to fine-tune the radio (seriously, why are you pairing Backstreet Boys with Linkin Park?) so I’ll leave you with this ancient playlist of Mayer Hawthorne doing Hall & Oates’ covers plus a few of his old songs. There’s a newer album that I like but don’t love—you can decide which era of his work you prefer.

COOKING 👩🏽‍🍳

I sent my husband to the butcher to get pork shoulder for this Instant Pot stew, but neglected to add tomatoes to my Instacart cart. Going off of a tip about substituting nightshades in a Paleo cookbook, I added equal amounts of pumpkin puree, chicken stock, and a healthy squirt of tomato paste. The result? Shockingly delicious. Perfect comfort food for a blistery winter day after two weeks of traveling.

Happy new year,

Sophia :)

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P.S. Substack and I may not agree on what constitutes a popular post, but here are the three reasons I continue writing in spite of it.