This time of year has a very specific energy, a mix of twinkle lights, to-do lists, and the collective silent chant of “just make it to the finish line.” What do they call it… the holiday hustle?
And the mental agility this time of year requires is impressive. Popeye-the-Sailor impressive (does this reference date me?).
Some days it feels like we are in the North Sea on a ship rocking side to side while trying to wrap gifts, wrap work projects, and wrap our minds around what day it even is. And layered inside all of that, bucket-sized doses of stress, pressure, and a generous serving of comparisonitis.
We cannot help it. Our brains let our internal pressure gauges climb (thank you biology for trying to keep us safe) while simultaneously measuring our pace against someone else’s (also a survival tool, wonderful).
LEADERSHIP
But where I notice comparisonitis most at work, especially around this time of year, is when people proudly announce how busy they are (or overwhelmed, or hanging on by a thread, or insert whatever emotion they mention). And as any good human would, because well… thank you biology, a tiny part of me always wants to high-five them with my own busyness badge or matching emotion.
Why? Because I want them to know I get it. It feels good to commiserate just a little, and it is our nature to notice the not-so-great emotions, interactions, and moments that feel heavy. But the more I pay attention, the more I realize that instinct to respond back with a matching “me too, same boat” is less about connection and more about validation.
When leaders compare workloads, stress levels, or accomplishments, it subtly trains teams to measure worth by hustle. Busyness becomes a competition and suddenly everyone is sprinting but no one is steering the ship.
The truth is, leaders set the tone for what “busy” means inside a culture. Do we glorify it? Do we bond over it? Or do we use it as a cue to recalibrate, clarify priorities, and support the team through the push? Do we use it to prioritize?
The nuance of comparison is tricky because yes, leaders compare data, metrics, and performance every day. And comparison is healthy… but the danger comes when we slip into panic mode. Panic narrows our vision. It makes us miss details. It makes us listen poorly. It pulls us away from the steadiness our teams need most. Heck, sometimes it even trickles into our personal lives and we catch ourselves telling our 10-year-old daughter how busy we are because our mind is moving at warp speed (okay, maybe that’s me).
Here is the leadership opportunity this week.
Notice your first instinct when you ask someone “How’s it going?” and they respond with a stressed-to-the-max answer, and then ask you the same question. Instead of joining the stress spiral (even though it can feel warm and fuzzy to commiserate together), try responding with this instead:
- I am looking forward to finishing ____ and I am focused on ____.
- Here is what matters most for me and the team right now.
- Here is what is going well, and here is what I am adjusting next.
(No mention of being sooo busy or heightening the emotion.)
These responses do two things at once. They interrupt the comparison reflex, and they signal steadiness instead of scrambling.
They remind your team and coworkers that leadership is not about matching someone else’s chaos. It is about being mindful that the panic button creates a ripple effect. And in seasons like this, when the volume is high and the pressure is real, your steadiness is the ripple effect people will feel the longest.
Cheers to lowering the pressure to out-holiday-hustle and moving forward with a steady mind.
LIFE
A friend recently told me a story about her apartment hallway. She bought a wreath because her neighbor had one and it was pretty. After she hung it, her neighbor added a rug. Then someone else down the hallway added a wreath, a rug, and a plant. Now my friend is wondering whether she needs to add a plant too.
Comparisonitis is contagious, isn’t it?
The same thing shows up in parenting this time of year. Lately, every conversation with fellow parents sounds a little like a holiday inventory check. People swapping gift ideas, comparing wish lists, and casually mentioning that their kid wants a drone, a gaming setup, and a small pony. My kids, who genuinely do not need a darn thing, have tossed out a few wild ideas too, but note to self: I am not buying anything that requires a forklift or a second mortgage.
And though we are almost done with holiday shopping, there is that little whisper of worry.
Are we giving too much? Too little? Are we supposed to add “surprise and delight” items? Is there a rubric we are all following that I somehow missed at back-to-school night?
I know the “right” answer. Trust your intuition. Do what fits your family. Remember that gifts are not a scoreboard. All of that is true. Yada yada yada yada…
And yet comparisonitis, that sneaky little fellow, loves to show up in the checkout line, or during a casual conversation, or when your kid mentions what their friend is getting and suddenly your brain goes, Wait… should we be doing more? Less? Different?
What I have realized is that this season has a way of amplifying things we already care about: being good parents, creating good memories, wanting our kids to feel loved and secure.
Comparisonitis tries to make it about matching someone else’s choices, but the real question, the only one that matters, is: What feels right for our family?
Some years that looks like wrapped gifts. Some years it looks like practical things, or experiences, or simply more time together. The magic is not in the price tag. It is in the intention. And honestly, I am reminding myself of that just as much as I am writing it.
I hope that if you suffer from waves of comparisonitis (like me), this season is filled with quick in-the-moment reframing where you say to yourself, “You don’t have to do it like everyone else. Do what is right for you.”
And my friend with the rug… she has decided she is going to skip adding a plant because she does not have a green thumb, and she might make a rug as a craft and call it joy. Cheers to that!
Wishing you a warm and cozy December… and yes, I’m saying that while looking out at eight inches of snow.
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