comparing self

Just because you don’t look like somebody who you think is attractive doesn’t mean you aren’t attractive. Flowers are pretty, but so are sunsets and they look nothing alike.

It’s not stupid. I promise. It’s not stupid to turn into your 5 year old self and get happy beyond measure for the little things. It’s not stupid to be proud of yourself for completing a load of laundry and washing the dishes. You aren’t lame for patting yourself on the back when you chose a salad over a burger. You’re taking care of yourself and each victory - no matter how small - is worth celebrating. 

3 Steps for Loving Yourself

Cases of self-hate are worryingly increasing among adolescents. In addition to the bad body image that the media portrays and the social expectations of perfection, some unlikely culprits are also fuelling self-hate. Identifying the problem will be the first way of turning that car around, driving away from the self-hate and into a haven of respect and love for oneself.

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You’re not going to be happy all the time. No one ever is. Sometimes you’re just going to sort of exist, and that’s okay.

Learn to be satisfied with “content” and “calm” and “not sad.” Not sad is good.

Not sad is great.

—  happiness is awesome, but the universe doesn’t revolve around a smile

worry less about what others are doing and focus on you and your own progress.

Self-Comparison

Comparing yourself to another person is an act of violence. It is an act of self harm. Even if you compare yourself favorably to one person or group of people, you are building a house of cards that will collapse as you try to stand on it. Self-comparisons are hard to avoid. If we do not compare ourselves to others, others will compare themselves to us. They will lump us into categories, according to their particular expression of ignorance. Because comparing ourselves to each other is so common and so destructive, we have to learn how to use all the comparisons to expose our egos and set us free.

To be free from our ego we become humble. If we think we are big, we look at a mountain. If we think we are small we look at a mouse. If we think we are smart, we think about solving world hunger. If we think we are stupid, we have no business thinking at all. When we think about all the comparisons we can make, we see that it is a futile game that our ego plays, trying to figure out which is prettier, a flower or a sunset.

When we catch ourselves bringing ourselves down or building ourselves up by comparing ourselves to others, we can remember that we are playing an ego trick, trying to pretend that we are moonbeams or pimples. When we step out of the comparison game, we become humble. When people put us into their categories, we greet their confusion with compassion. We no longer have to pretend that we are something more or less that we are.

Humble is neutral. It is greatness, without being great. Understanding our basic humility, helps us to cut through our confusion. We don’t have to make ourselves out to be anything other than we are. What we are is beyond compare.

The Name Game

This is ridiculous, not gonna lie. Just a little Dean drabble that came to mind last night, when I was exhausted, and I literally gave myself the giggles. So imagine that Dean x reader are just as exhausted, and that things are just as stupid funny to them as they were to me when my mind came up with this… 

I’m so sorry :D


You feel the mattress give as he crawls beneath the covers, and you smile, still mostly asleep. He’s home. He’s safe.

He’s warm and solid behind you, one arm sneaking its way under your arm, angling up across your body to your shoulder as he spoons up close behind you. A contented sigh ruffles your hair a little as he drops a kiss to your head. “Glad you’re home,” you murmur, and he gives you a squeeze.

“Me too, sweetheart,” he says, and you love the way his voice makes his chest rumble against you. Something else is nudging against you, too, and you can’t help smiling.

“Seems like Little Dean is happy to see me, too,” you tease, and he chuckles.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” he says, his voice rich and lazy, sleepy.

“About what?”

“You always call him Little Dean. Hurts his feelings.”

You giggle softly. “I mean he’s little compared to – your whole self. You doof.”

“Well, he thinks he deserves a better name. Something a little more – impressive.”

You turn to your back, the silly grin on your face matching the one on his. “Oh, really. Well, does he have any suggestions?”

“A couple.”

“Please – enlighten me.” Dean’s eyes are shining with amusement, that fourteen-year-old self inside him that loves to be naughty is just dying to come out and play, and you love that side of him.

“Well, he gave me a list. Are you ready?”

“Please,” you sputter, almost giggling already.

“Well, these are pretty – meh, if you ask me, but – The Boss. The Sniper Rifle. The Specialist. Master Blaster. The Wench Wrench. But he’d prefer one of the top two.”

You almost choke trying to contain your laughter, you can barely speak. “Please, tell me the top picks. I can’t wait.”

Dean turns to his side to face you, both of you barely containing yourselves. Dean starts talking twice before he manages to stifle his laughter enough to continue. “Okay. Brace yourself. His favorites are: Mr. Happy Fun Time…”

A smothered explosion of giggles spews out between your lips, and you clamp them shut as your body shakes with laughter. Your voice is high-pitched and forced as you ask, “And? The other one?”

Dean’s entire face is twitching with the effort to contain himself, and you keep letting out little whines, laughter that is leaking out despite your efforts to stifle it for just one more minute.

“Sure you’re ready for this?”

“Yes. Please.”

“The Jackhammer of Love.”

Aaaaaand you’re both done. Neither of you has laughed this hard in – well, you can’t remember when. There are tears streaming down your face, your stomach aches, and still you can’t stop. And hearing Dean laugh like this, well – this is the best.

You both finally calm down, panting for breath, an occasional giggle starting you up again for a few moments here and there. Dean pulls you close for a kiss, your lips smiling against his. “So – what’s the verdict?” he asks, and you look into his eyes, still shining with mirth.

“Oh, I’m sorry – but I’m gonna have to sleep on that one.”

He pulls you close, letting out a big, exhausted sigh. “Fair enough. But I’m pretty sure he’s gonna be expecting an answer in the morning.”


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People will judge you regardless of what you do. Don’t look to them for validation, simply accept all that you are.