When comparison isn’t the problem — directionless goals are

Comparison gets blamed for a lot.

Most of the advice around it sounds something like: stop comparing, stay in your lane, focus on your own journey. And while that’s not wrong, it’s rarely enough — especially for people who actually care about what they’re doing.

In my experience, comparison itself isn’t usually the problem. It’s what comparison brings to the surface when our goals don’t feel steady or grounded.

I see this all the time with handlers — and if I’m honest, I’ve felt it myself. You can be perfectly supportive of someone else’s success and still feel unsettled afterward. Not because you’re jealous or insecure, but because something about your own direction feels fuzzy.

When goals are clear and aligned with the season you’re in, comparison tends to soften. You might notice what others are doing, but it doesn’t shake you. There’s room for curiosity without self-doubt.

When goals are vague, borrowed, or no longer a good fit? Comparison hits differently. Someone else’s progress starts to feel personal. Their timeline feels loud. Their choices quietly invite you to question your own — even when nothing is actually wrong.

Dog sports make this especially tricky. From the outside, things look comparable: same trials, same ribbons, same venues. But underneath that surface are completely different dogs, histories, bodies, resources, energy levels, and lives.

It’s easy to forget that when you’re scrolling or standing ringside.

Over time, I’ve come to think of comparison less as something to eliminate and more as information. Not a verdict — just a signal. Often, it’s pointing to a goal that hasn’t been revisited or clarified in a while.

Sometimes comparison highlights a value shift you haven’t named yet. Sometimes it reveals that you’re holding yourself to a version of success that made sense once, but doesn’t quite fit anymore — your dog has changed, your life has changed, or you have.

January tends to magnify all of this. New goals are everywhere. Announcements, plans, fresh starts. If you haven’t had a chance to orient yourself — to get clear on what actually matters right now — comparison fills the gap. And then it feels heavier than it needs to.

Rather than telling yourself to stop comparing, it can be more helpful to pause and ask:

What goal am I still carrying out of habit, expectation, or pressure — rather than intention?

That question isn’t about fixing anything. It’s about clarity. And clarity has a way of quieting comparison without force or effort.

You don’t need thicker skin.
You don’t need to care less.
You don’t need to stop noticing what others are doing.

Often, you just need goals that belong to this season of your life — not last year’s identity, and not someone else’s timeline.

When your goals are rooted and intentional, comparison loses its edge. It becomes background noise instead of something that defines how you feel about yourself.

And that’s a much easier place to stand.