Sometimes, I'm just casually working on my laptop — headphones in, tabs open, maybe sipping something cold — when I accidentally (on purpose?) end up deviating a little. Just a bit, right?
Next thing I know, I'm knee-deep in someone's GitHub — a dev who's been writing code since the early 2010s, publishing open-source tools, maintaining sleek packages, building startups, and doing God-knows-what with AI. It starts out as admiration, but it slowly morphs into a low hum of "Damn… what have I even done?"
I mean, these folks are certified beasts. Their commits read like symphonies. Their portfolios are filled with battle-tested apps and clean, type-safe wizardry. And here I am — not even two full years deep into this dev journey — somehow measuring myself on the same scale. Like… what?
It's wild how quick the mind is to forget time, context, and reality.
When Comparison Stings
It's true — comparison can absolutely steal your joy. You start the day feeling productive, get a few things done, maybe squash a few bugs or finish a feature. And then, out of nowhere, that innocent detour becomes a deep dive into someone else's journey. A journey that didn't start yesterday, btw. A journey built on years — of failures, pivots, persistence, mentorship, and timing.
And yet we forget that.
Suddenly, your achievements feel small. Your growth feels slow. You start questioning if you're really cut out for this. And the worst part? It happens quietly. It doesn't yell — it just whispers: "You should be further by now."
But… who says?
When Comparison Fuels
Here's the twist though — sometimes that very comparison? It lights a fire.
There've been days I've stumbled on a dev's project or personal site and instead of falling into a pit of self-doubt, I've come out supercharged. Like, "Yo, I wanna build something clean like this. I wanna ship. I wanna learn that tech stack. I wanna get there."
It's weird, but depending on the day, the mood, or even how much sleep I've had — comparison either crushes me or carries me. Some days, I compare myself to people who started just before me or are slightly ahead, and I'm like, yo, I'm cooking. The code may be messy sometimes, but the vision? Still sharp.
Funny thing though — even when I do outperform expectations or build something solid, I still never really feel ahead. Like ever.
Why? Maybe it's because I know how much I don't know yet. Or maybe it's because deep down, I'm scared that feeling "on top" might make me complacent.
So I stay hungry. Almost too hungry sometimes.
The Real Thief of Joy?
If I'm being honest, maybe comparison isn't the thief of joy — maybe forgetting your own timeline is. Maybe joy starts to slip when you stop appreciating how far you've come. When you zoom too far out, or too far ahead, and forget that two years ago you didn't even know what the hell a "middleware" was.
Perspective matters.
It's okay to look up — just don't look so long that you forget to look around. It's okay to feel behind — just don't let that stop you from showing up. And if you're gonna compare, compare with yourself last month, not a 10-year veteran's highlight reel.
Final Note
Growth ain't linear. Confidence isn't permanent. Some days, you'll feel like a genius. Other days, imposter syndrome will hit like a truck. That's normal.
What matters is you don't let the voice of comparison drown out the voice of curiosity.
So yeah… maybe I'll scroll GitHub less.
Or maybe I won't.
But either way, I'll remember:
I'm not late.
I'm not lost.
I'm just learning.
And that's more than enough.