Recently I went to a concert with my friends (Jonas Brothers for the win!) As the sun went down, the air grew crisp and the sky cleared — it was the PERFECT night for a concert. We made our way to our seats, passing group after group of young women laughing and taking pictures, excitement in the air. If you’ve ever been to a concert, then you know some people go all out. Crop tops, everywhere you look. 

I should have been swept up in the excitement, but instead, a part of my brain kept locking onto every woman I passed and thinking: I wish I looked as good as she does. Once I started, I couldn’t stop: in line for the bathroom, waiting to get drinks, even when we finally made it to our seats. I continued comparing myself to those around me to see how I measured up. Whose outfit was cuter? Who looked prettier? I told myself it was for “outfit inspiration” (good try, April) but we all know that’s not completely true. I tumbled down a hole of comparison.