My Daughter Vs. The Comparison Machine
Fellow steward,
I can’t believe it.
My daughter officially started school this fall.
Which means she's officially facing the same challenge I wrestle with every single day in business: The Comparison Game.
She started 4K. The real world just got real for her. She's no longer protected from the brutal comparison game that is K-12 education.
So I wrote her a letter.
(I know she's only five, but I'm starting the conversation now. Repetition builds belief.)
Here's part of what I told her:
"The world will try to steal your joy.
School will push you to compare yourself through grades.
Kids will create little kingdoms of status. It's human nature. It's tribal. And it never lasts.
When you start measuring yourself against others, you'll win sometimes. But mostly, you'll lose.
You'll find peace by looking inward. By becoming the best version of you. This takes practice.
Never forget: you are loved exactly as you are. Great things take time."
From where I sit, school can become this relentless comparison machine. As her dad, I'm taking responsibility to create space away from all that achievement pressure.
Because here's how crazy it's gotten:
Ivy League acceptance rates? Between 3% and 6%.
Students need near perfect SAT scores just to be considered.
Half of middle schoolers and 75% of high schoolers report feeling constantly stressed.
Total insanity. Of course they are stressed! The outward scorecard is perfection.
But the challenge she's about to face is the exact same one I face in business every day.
In family business, we battle comparison constantly. The world runs on envy, not greed.
It's all a comparison.
Business becomes school all over again. If we’re not careful, then ego will win. Friendships get destroyed by it. Sibling relationships fracture. Business partnerships implode.
In family business, we get obsessed with what's "fair." (comparison wearing a fancy hat.)
What game are we actually playing? What does winning even look like?
My daughter's first day is the beginning of decades wrestling with this very human temptation. She'll face it alongside me for years to come.
(That's the beauty, and the whole point, of family business.)
Two books have shaped how I think about this:
What Made Maddy Run
A crushing story every parent needs to read. A "perfect" girl who was winning every external game... until she wasn't. She jumped off a parking garage because she was playing the wrong game entirely.
Essential for leaders. Gallwey shows us how to stop being competitive and start playing every moment with excellence. Real competition is cooperation: helping each other become who we're meant to be.
Both books point to the same truth: self-worth isn't external.
Real, lasting self-worth comes from within.
John Wooden nailed it: "Success is peace of mind, which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you made the effort to become the best of which you are capable."
(There's a reason he's one of the winningest coaches in history.)
This comparison thing is timeless. (It's exactly why I don't touch TikTok, Instagram, or Facebook. Those apps are comparison machines designed to steal your joy.)
The temptation of status, fame, and power? It's as old as humanity itself.
"Comparison is the thief of joy."
Roosevelt was right, and I don't want her playing the game of school the way I did.
I don't want her playing the way most people play.
My daughter and I are going to practice the inner game together. The game of becoming our best selves. Of giving our best effort.
We're not looking left and right to see how we're performing. We're looking inward to see if we're giving everything we've got.
I want her to discover the quiet power of being an everyday person who shows up consistently.
Day in. Day out.
Building with brick.
Here's my challenge for you this week: eliminate one form of comparison from your life.
(Start by deleting those social media apps from your phone. I dare you.)
Onward,
Matt
P.S. If you're a parent reading this, remember: your kids are watching how you handle comparison too. They're learning more from what they see than what they hear. CAUGHT NOT TAUGHT.