We've all had that person that seems to be one step ahead of us in life. Whatever you do, they turn around and do it leagues better. Maybe it's that one coworker, or kid in class, or our sibling. They get the better pay, better grade, better Christmas toy.
I had a classmate like that at TIP. We're both writers at heart, both wear glasses, both have auburn hair. Oh boy, she had changed in a year. Not in look, or personality. But she was an editor for one of the leading student literature mags in the country. And we wrote answers to a prompt one evening that were of the same main idea. But hers was just miles from mine. She had jumped eight buildings in a single bound, it seemed, in terms of her skill. Oh, and she was ALWAYS writing something. I can barely get my muse in the same state that I am, and her's shows up at her beck and call. No big deal.
You could say I felt like she was the chocolate chip to my oatmeal raisin. Basically the same cookie, right? But one is awesome, and the other is a stale copycat.
Here's the deal: I had to realize I'm not a copycat. Think about it. Oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip are just different cookies. Some crazy people probably prefer oatmeal raisin to chocolate chip, though I haven't found one of those people yet.
Over those three weeks, I realized we weren't the same person. I'm far more of an extrovert, a speaker, an encourager. Not that she wasn't those things entirely, but she was also an observer, a storyteller, a poet. I am those things too, but I had put those behind my blog, my relationship, my diary, my apologetics. I had my priorities in a different order, and so she thrived in what she loved and I found twelve different jars.
Once I figured that out, it was really no big deal. There's never a bakery with only one type of cookie. Sometimes they'll sell ones that are sort of similar, but they'll both sell out.
It's okay to be oatmeal raisin. Imagine a world where we ONLY had chocolate chip, or macadamia nut, or sugar cookies.
I hate sugar cookies. I'd be heartbroken.