From comparison to connection

I am currently in training to become a family, child, and youth counselor. Before that, I completed a nine-month training program at the German-Danish Institute in Berlin, based on the approaches of Jesper Juul. At the free school where I work, his ideas also shape our daily life.

One central thought that accompanies me is this: when I work with people, I am always also working on myself.

Every encounter, every group, every child, every family reflects something back to me about myself.

And that, to me, is perhaps the most important part of this work.

Relationships as mirrors of my own inner themes

For several years, I worked with a counselor who follows the Internal Family Systems model developed by Richard Schwartz.

Through that work, I was able to get to know, understand, and organize all of my inner parts.

One of these parts is particularly present: the part that constantly compares itself to others.

This part shows up especially when it comes to other people—most of all, ex-partners. I notice how quickly I start comparing, judging, questioning myself.

These comparisons are often painful because they don’t lead to growth; they make me feel small.

And yet, they reveal something essential: they signal that there is something within me that still wants to be seen and understood.

The fine line between comparison and self-worth

In my training, I keep encountering the concepts of self-feeling, self-worth, and self-confidence—central themes in Jesper Juul’s work as well.

When I start comparing myself to others, I lose touch with my sense of self. I lose connection with my body, with my feelings, with what makes me who I am.

Juul describes self-feeling as the ability to sense myself and be in contact with who I am.

Self-worth shows in how I treat myself—even when I don’t know something or can’t do something.

And from a healthy self-feeling grows self-confidence, the trust in my own ability to act and to learn.

When I compare myself to others, I lose exactly that connection. I begin to base my value on what others do, know, or can accomplish.

And that’s something I know very well. There are moments when I think I need to achieve something, perform, or “do better” in order to be valuable.

But that isn’t true. I am allowed simply to be—as a human being.

Ex-partners and the theme of recognition

In past relationships, I often felt how strong my need for recognition was. I wanted to be seen, liked, to be good enough.

And at the same time, there was this fear of not being enough—especially when I felt that my partner’s ex could do something I couldn’t.

Only through my own inner work did I realize: these comparisons say far less about the other person than they do about me.

They show me where insecurity still lives within me, where old experiences still have power, where I have not yet become enough for myself.

Today, I try not to suppress that pain but to see it as an invitation—an invitation to treat myself more kindly.

A reminder that I don’t need to look for my value outside myself.

Of course, there are days when that comes easily, and other days when it takes a lot of effort and many encouraging inner dialogues.

Growing through connection

I believe that all of us grow through relationships—whether in friendships, partnerships, or in our work with people.

Every encounter can be a mirror showing us where we are and what within us still needs healing.

When I work with children, adolescents, or parents, I know that they, too, will touch something inside me—perhaps something old, something vulnerable.

And that is exactly why it is so important for me to know myself: my boundaries, my patterns, my inner parts.

Only then can I accompany others authentically, without unconsciously bringing my own issues into the relationship.

From comparison to connection

I wish for all of us—especially for children and young people—to learn to live less in comparison and more in connection.

To stop constantly measuring ourselves against one another, and instead to ask with curiosity:

“How did you do that?” or “What did you feel while doing it?”

When we begin to see ourselves and others in this way, something new emerges: genuine interest, authenticity, true encounter.

And perhaps that is the beginning of real self-worth—and peace with ourselves.