Me too.

In the last 9 months, since things really started to get confusing with Mini, I have spent too much time comparing my life to other people's lives.  I wonder who has it tougher than me?  Who has it easier?  I wonder if I'd feel validated if I had that statistic...  87% of women are having an easier time of it than me.  Maybe 62% of women are struggling with their life more than me.  Maybe 62% of women have 7 or more major life issues right now, whereas I only have 5.  Or maybe I have 5 and most women only have 2.

So, let's just think on that a little....  What would that MEAN to me if I knew those stats?  What would I do either the same or differently if I knew that x number of women were x increment happier or less happy than I am on any given day?

What kind of a person am I if it made me feel better to know that I was happier or more successful than most women?  I'm thinking that doesn't feel like a compassionate goal.  And then, what would I do if I knew, really KNEW, that most women were doing better than I am on a daily basis?  Probably, I'd beat myself up even more than I currently do for not being more successful and happy.

Does that sound neurotic, or does this sound like a conversation that you've had with yourself lately?

Luckily, I read lots of blogs and THIS ONE spoke volumes to me on the comparison thing.  

Comparison doesn't unite me with the world.  Comparison segregates me...  No matter what the result is of my comparison... better or worse, healthier or sicker, smarter or not, faster or slower, prettier or fatter or richer or more patient or less successful...  Whatever the result is makes me "other" from the person or group that's on the other side of my comparison.  And that is the opposite of what I need.  It's the opposite of who I am.  Who WE are.

We all are broken down by life.  We trudge through, most of us, hoping for and grasping validation and connectedness from those souls that mingle with us in our every day.   And gratefully, most of my life's greatest blessings have begun the moment another soul said to me "Oooh, friend.  Me too."

Two beautiful words.  I'll repeat them. "Me, too."

And then my eyes meet hers and I think "Oh my god I don't have to be alone and brave and wander this nightmare all by myself.  I don't have to pretend I'm fine and fake perfection and strength.  She gets it, she knows this is really hard and she knows I'm not okay."

ME TOO.

Today Mini had a hard day at therapy.  His therapist and I carried him, screaming, kicking, while I held his wrist in one hand and his head in the other so he couldn't bite her, from the therapy room to his carseat.  Today I cried in front of her for the first time while she told me she didn't know how it would end either, but she would stand there with me if I'd let her.  She hugged me and promised she didn't hate my son.  She told me she'd bring water balloons on Thursday and hope for a better transition.  She told me about the good things he did for her today.  She didn't say it, but she looked me in the eye and squeezed my hand.

ME TOO, Momma.

Yesterday when I dropped him off in a new classroom at school, his teacher said "Go home, he's crying now but he'll be fine.  This isn't the first tantrum I've seen- I have three kids of my own, remember?"  And she nodded, looked at me out of the corner or her eye and said "I've got him.  He'll be fine."

ME TOO, Sister.

I don't have time to run right now.  Life is too much for me and I am just in maintenance mode.  My running partner said he's working on his dissertation, the recent and sudden loss of his beloved dog, and is working 60-70 hour weeks....  He's not running much either.

ME TOO, Friend.

My dad said I was no picnic to raise either.  He said there were times he wished he could give up on my brother and I, that there were times he couldn't quite locate the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.  He said he saw credit card debt and an uphappy marriage and kids he didn't recognize and a job that was drowning him and he saw a life unfolding that he didn't know he'd planned.

ME TOO, Daughter.

I'm going to make a vow to catch myself in the moments where I'm left saying "More than" or "Happier than" or "More rested than" or "Less responsibilities than"....  I'm going to remind myself that, MORE THAN we want to be different, we want to be connected.  We want to be judged LESS THAN we want to be hugged.  We want to be met in the middle MORE THAN we want to win the rat race.

I'm going to start to compare, and then I'm going to breathe and say the simple words:

Me too.