I blocked my competition on social media.
There. I said it.
Not because I’m angry at them. Not because I’m afraid of them. And not because I don’t believe there’s room in the market for more than one company.
I blocked them because comparison is the killer of joy.
I would find myself scrolling through social media, seeing what another company launched, where they were selling, what they were posting, or what seemed to be working for them—and suddenly, instead of feeling proud of what we were building at Yes! Athletics, I was measuring myself against someone else.
And comparison has a remarkable ability to make you forget how far you’ve come.
The irony is that recently, someone compared their life to mine
They told me that I had "accomplished so much more in my life than they had".
Their words surprised me because know my life from the inside.
Yes, I've built a company. I've raised three incredible daughters. I've taken risks, survived some really hard things, and accomplished things I'm proud of.
But I've also failed. A lot.
I've made terrible decisions. I've lost money. I've trusted the wrong people. I've started things that didn't work. I've questioned whether I'm good enough to do what I'm doing. I've had seasons when I've felt completely lost.
And I cry. A lot more than anyone looking at my life from the outside would probably imagine.
That's when I realized how unfair comparison really is.
This person was comparing their life to mine and did the same exact thing I did with my competition. They were comparing the inside of their life to the outside of mine.
.I was looking at their launches, their wins and their social media and comparing them to everything I knew about the messy reality behind my own business.
Neither comparison was real.
We were both comparing our behind-the-scenes to someone else's highlight reel.
Comparison steals joy in both directions.
When I compare myself to someone who appears to be ahead of me, I diminish my own accomplishments.
When someone compares themselves to me, they diminish theirs.
Neither one of us wins.
Maybe We’re Measuring the Wrong Thing
I've been powerlifting lately, and I think there is something incredibly freeing about a barbell.
The barbell doesn't care what the woman next to me can lift.
It only tells me what I can lift today.
Maybe yesterday I lifted 100 pounds.
Today I lift 105.
That's a win.
Next week, maybe it's 110.
Another win.
I don't have to be the strongest woman in the gym to succeed. I don't have to beat anyone else's personal record.
I just have to keep improving mine.
Incremental improvement gives me the opportunity to win every single day.
And I'm realizing that's how I want to approach the rest of my life, too.
What if we stopped measuring our businesses against someone else's business?
Our bodies against someone else's body?
Our relationships against someone else's relationship?
Our bank account, parenting, career, faith, healing or timeline against someone else's?
What if the question wasn't:
“Am I doing better than them?”
What if it was simply:
“Am I stronger than I was yesterday?”
Add Five Pounds
Maybe that's the goal.
Not to completely transform your life today.
Just add five pounds.
Make one better decision.
Send one more email.
Make one more sales call.
Walk into the gym when you don't feel like going.
Have the difficult conversation.
Take the scary step.
Celebrate something you handled better than you would have six months ago.
Because when the competition is the person you were yesterday, you can win every day.
Some days the improvement will be huge. Some days it won’t
And some days, honestly, the win is simply showing up and keeping the weight on the bar.
But it's still a win.
I blocked my competition because I realized I don't need to know what they're lifting.
I need to keep my eyes on my own bar.
My own business.
My own life.
My own purpose.
My own progress.
There will always be someone ahead of me in something. And there will always be someone looking at my life thinking I'm ahead of them.
Neither comparison serves us.
So I'm choosing a different scoreboard.
Yesterday's me versus today's me.
One more rep.
One more pound.
One more brave decision.
One more opportunity to say Yes! to something hard.
That's a competition I can actually win.
**Pictured is my beautiful daughter who deadlifted 235- 40 pounds more than I did. Her journey is different than mine and I can't even compare