Many Halloweens ago, as I hid in the bathroom suffering from the last minute jitters of realizing how much there was of me versus how little costume there was to cover it, a good friend summed up the situation in one sentence: “Either you wear the costume or it wears you.” With that, she turned and walked out, head held high in her Dallas Cowboys’ cheerleading uniform and drugstore tan pantyhose, leaving me to decide who was going to own my night.

Fast forward fifteen years to Halloween 2012, and there I sat with a honey bun wig on my head, suffering the same insecurities even though there was a little less of me and a lot more costume to cover it. With the help of Spanx and a few glasses of wine, however, I decided I looked pretty good. The wig was a little cheap and itchy. Ditto the polyester gown and cheap pleather belt. But I was dressed as one of my childhood idols, and I was wearing white go go boots. How bad could the night be?

“Honey- look- there’s another Princess Leia!”

I turned my head at the sound of my “name” only to find the thinnest, most beautiful Princess Leia I could imagine (second only to Carrie Fisher of course).

As I got closer to her, I realized that she even had long dark hair and thus her honey buns were real.

My wig instantly felt even cheaper and itchier.

“We must get a picture of the two Princess Leia’s together!” said her Luke Skywalker husband.

I hated him. So damn much.

But my perma grin stayed absolutely still.

“Of course.”

As I stood next to Ms. Thin Perfect Real Honey Bun Hair who truly seemed very nice and totally oblivious to her superiority (of course- because that just made her even MORE superior), I had a strong suspicion that my costume was going to be owning me that night….

While the Princess Leia encounter is a silly (but true) example, it did get me thinking about this subconscious scorekeeping I do. And I am pretty sure that I am not alone in this exercise.

I am confident I am not the only one who immediately googled “Petraues wife” when his scandal broke so I could see how she compared to Paula Broadwell.

And I know I am not the only girl who has ever uttered “Am I prettier than her?” in a whispered drunken voice to my close girlfriends after being dumped for another.

But, after I recovered from the initial sting of “Princess Leiagate,” I started thinking about how much better off I would be if I could find a way to turn that scorekeeper off. To get to a place where I define myself without reference to the other Princess Leias, the other attorneys, the other 39 year olds, the other authors, the other anythings.

And though I am still working through it, here is what I have pieced together so far:

1. “Let’s Make a Deal”

I believe that so much of this scorekeeping stems from failed relationships. There is nothing like a bad break up to make you look around to try and figure out how you measure up to those around you (i.e. “He is going to date HER instead of me?” and “Why is she married and I’m not?” etc.).

Remember the game show “Let’s Make a Deal”? Monty Hall would tempt contestants with the unknown. They would see what was behind curtain number one and then have to decide if they would keep it or if they wanted to give it up to see what was behind curtain number two. And sometimes the risk paid off- they traded a green polyester living room set for a new car. Other times, they ended up passing on a new car for a box of Rice-a-Roni.

It is a perfect analogy for dating. You go out with someone a few times and they stop calling or you get dumped or whatever. Result? You feel like crap about yourself. And you secretly hold your breath to see what will turn up behind their curtain number two (a/k/a the next boyfriend or girlfriend) so you can decide how you measure up.

Here is the thing though- no matter how incredible (amazing, spectacular, fantastic) the prize is behind curtain number one, there are just some people who are going to risk it to see what is behind curtain number two. Maybe they are scared. Or stupid. Or hold an unrealistic view of themselves (i.e. stupid). But the fact that they need to see what is behind curtain number two has absolutely nothing to do with you or how wonderful you are. In other words, as with so many things in life, it is their issue- not yours.

2. The Grass is Not Greener

For some reason, I have the hardest time being single around the holidays. There is just something so “couplish” about the holidays. You go and get a tree together. You cook a turkey together. You drink egg nog together. You go to Christmas Eve service together. You hang your stockings together.

Are you getting the key word here? Together.

And there is no Normal Rockwell painting that I recall that features a lovely single 39 year old girl hanging her stocking? Maybe I just missed it.

I notice it most for some reason when I am on the plane en route to Florida to visit my family for the holidays. I look around my flight and (in my mind) everyone is with their spouses and kids. And I am alone. I look at their big engagement rings (in my mind) and their perfect kids (in my mind) and their cute husbands (in my mind) and think “Why didn’t I get THAT life?”

I recently shared this feeling with a girlfriend of mine who is married to a doctor and who has one of those seemingly ideal lives that I envy. She literally laughed out loud. “Are you kidding me? If you saw us getting on your flight, the chances are we would be trying to cover up the fight we just had over whose fault it was we were late and the kids would be behaving only because we promised them something if they were quiet and I would be totally stressed out and would see you and envy your life- the single girl whose life must be so glamorous and exciting.”

Glamorous and exciting? I would hate for her to see me curled up in my flannel pajamas watching Lifetime most Saturday nights….

I felt slightly guilty that knowing her life wasn’t so perfect made me feel better. But I am pretty sure knowing mine wasn’t so perfect made her feel better too.

And our conversation made me realize that these comparisons I (we) make with strangers are bogus. None of us have any idea what other people’s lives are really like- nor do they know what ours are like. And all that envy is just wasted energy that each of us could be spending to make our own grass a little greener.

3. That Damn Lens

One of my friends who is a life coach and generally extraordinary person (I am talking about you Leslie Palmer!) taught me about the lenses through which we see our lives. She had me look at some of the most significant events of my life and the explanation I came up with to understand them. She even had me draw it out on a timelime so I could see how over time, that explanation became the lens through which I saw and processed everything that happened in my life.

I think we all tend to use these lenses when we are engaging in the comparison game. I know I do.

I thought of Leslie and my lens a few months ago when a friend’s seven year old daughter came over to my condominium to play. As she tried on all my jewelry and purses and shoes, she asked me “Do you have a husband? Do you have kids?” I told her I had neither. She thought about it for a minute and then just looked at me and said “I have never met anyone like you.”

And there I sat, completely embarrassed and mortified that this seven year old thought I was a loser.

A few days later she sent me a thank you note. After reading it, I once again felt totally embarrassed. But this time, I felt that way because I had allowed my lens to so misconstrue how this precious seven year old perceived me and my life….

4. Wonderfully Made

At the end of the day, I am beginning to realize that the biggest problem with all this scorekeeping isn’t how much we overvalue others- it’s how much we undervalue ourselves.

To help me remember my value, my best friend recently told me to print up Psalms 139 and read it every day. She will be happy to know that I obeyed her directive, and I keep it in my desk drawer and read it at least once a day.

“I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”

I had not thought about that passage in a long time.

And the truth is, I have not thought of myself as all that “wonderfully made” in a long time either.

I think we all tend to forget that about ourselves as we age. When you see a baby, you remember it instantly. But grown ups aren’t so cute or pure or perfect.

Nonetheless, we were, are and will always be “wonderfully made.” And there isn’t a Princess Leia on the planet who can change that.

So this week, when I get on my flight to travel home for Thanksgiving, I am going to do my best to just skip the whole comparison game. Instead, I am going to take my seat and smile at my seatmate and think about how lucky they are to be sitting next to a wonderfully made Princess.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.