18: Comparison is the thief of joy (and all that)
Jules muses comparing herself to other comics, other women, her younger self, and living to 115 – why would anyone want to?!
Transcript:
Episode 18: Comparison is the thief of joy (and all that)
Jules O’Brian:Hello, I’m Jules O’Brian. Welcome to another episode of “Avoid Excessive Cleavage brackets and other advice to ignore close brackets.” This is a podcast that firmly believes that no matter your age, shape, or size you should wear whatever
you like and express yourself however you like, life’s too short to be letting other people bring you down even if sometimes it feels really hard to ignore them. This is not the podcast for you if you’re looking for something edgy out there
or a bit controversial. It's more thoughtful, cosy and relatable with an occasional side of bafflement that the state of things thrown in for good measure but it is also the podcast that says no to unsolicited advice and
inspirational quotes. You know that quote “Comparison is the thief of joy,” that’s Teddy Roosevelt apparently. I usually open these podcasts with an inspirational quote that I then spend the next 20 minutes
tearing down but this one I think is actually got a point because let me tell you comparison in comedy is like some kind of background radiation it’s constant, it’s invisible and it’s really toxic, I think, it’s everywhere. I was
at the Frog and Bucket recently, beautiful gig, my favourite club to perform at. The Friday night went well nothing to complain about but Saturday Matinée, I proper smashed it, right,—even if I say so myself,—and I came off
stage feeling like absolute Billy Big Bollocks, right, thinking, “Oh, yes I've cracked it and the Queen of Comedy.” Right, okay, so maybe not quite that but you know when you feel like fuck me that went really, really well. I've just had such a
nice time and I was wasn’t sure what to expect because you know a daytime gig can go one of two ways sometimes can it but regardless of that I came off thinking that was brilliant I’ve just done a really good job, loved it and then
Thomas Green went on after me and metaphorically kind of said, “Hold my beer.” He just took the roof off on a four o’clock show on a Saturday after I thought I’d done brilliantly, and I had done well. But it just oh god it’s I’d kind of just wish
I'd walked off the stage when I finished and walked straight out the door because then I'd still feel like yeah that was great nobody's gonna top that and I just I wonder if that feeling will ever stop you know when I did Altitude back a
few months ago I was performing the late night shows so shows it started around about midnight but first of all we’d all go and watch the proper, proper pros perform at the the big theatre place and I remember the one night watching Jason
Bern close and another night watching Tim Vine close. I mean you know you just watch them I think why the fuck am I bothering this is crazy just absolutely genius acts that look like they don’t even have to try clearly there is so much work going
on there but you know that they just are phenomenal and I remember watching them close these nights and thinking shit this audience is now gonna leave this venue and walk over to the venue where I’m about to open how do you do that how much
opposed to follow that and the thing is that at altitude the crowds are so gorgeous they are such comedy fans they get it they know what the situation is they are you know sort of die hard comedy fans and they’re they're just to
enjoy themselves and have a good time and and just skiing in comedy and that’s it so they know what the deal is but yeah that was another learning curve having to be able to sit, and enjoy, and watch people like Jason and Tim and then go oh my
God it’s sort of half an hour later I’ve got to be a lot stagged and detaining this same crowd but it was just a really good example I think of comparison just don’t do it basically don’t compare yourself to anybody unless they’re a lot
shitter than you in which case that can actually make you feel loads better. I saw Jennifer Coolidge talking about this recently and she said that’s they’re the only actors that she’ll watch out of people that are worse than
herself because it just makes I feel really good. I know that’s really silly obviously she’s messing about just joking, but I think maybe now and again there’s something in that. I think now and again there’s something to be said for just
reminding yourself that actually, you know, you kind of you do it an okay job. I don’t know go back to the the Thomas Green bit at the Frog I mean he didn’t even do any material for the first 10 minutes and he still had the audience in
absolutely bits—like, you know, Health Hazard levels of laughter—and I just I thought, you know what, I’m still at GCSE level aren’t I, and these guys have got their PhDs. I find that happening a lot and I guess it’s good because it means that you
know you still got so much work to do but, oh God, I wish I’d done this 30 years ago, I haven’t had time, I haven’t got time to get really good at it. But then, you know, at the same time I sort of remember where I was before this sort of having
to lock myself in my classroom when I was a teacher at lunch times just so I could have a bit of a mini breakdown popping beta blockers just to get through a lesson on An Inspector Calls. There’s not been a single time when I’ve
thought, I’d much rather be doing that; not a moment I thought I'd rather be doing that. Maybe that’s yet to come I don’t know now and again I have those feelings I don’t think this is for me anymore I think I’ve plateaued I can’t see how
this is gonna progress any further; and, then I think, Shit, what would that mean? You know that would mean having to go back to…. Oh I can’t do anything else especially at my age nobody’s gonna want to want me for anything else so I suppose
it would mean going back to teaching and no way, that aint happen. Right now I get to stand on stage and make people laugh for actual money and I might not be rich but I’m not dead inside either, you know. So, I’m sorry teaching profession but
that’s . But comparison, it creeps in online too you know, I see other women the same age, maybe older, and they’ve got these incredible bodies, immaculate skin they’re doing Crossfit and drinking bone broth and injecting
collagen into the eyeballs, or whatever it is, I don’t know, taking subsance… subsence… substances they go my mind went to the substance look at that that's my toxic tray I would still definitely inject the substance regardless of the fact
that I know I’d turn into some hideous creature. They take these these substances don’t they like youth elixir or whatever they’re called, you know, I’m sat in my dressing gown Googling, I don't know, “how long can I keep the leftovers of a
chicken korma in the fridge,” and that’s my own fault, I should have higher standards for myself I know I should but then the part of the kicks in that goes oh life’s too short, I don’t know. I got back from Spain actually not long ago I had a
fabulous very short little break three days away with my mate packed about a fortnight’s worth of chaos into it because we don’t get downtime very often, way too many piña coladas, way too much all-inclusive dreadful white wine on the
beach, oh my God, it was good. And bikini photos, I took some bikini photos of myself when I was you know a little bit tipsy let’s say, and, and I thought I looked alright. And I posted a couple of them on Instagram, again whilst I was a little
bit inebriated because there's no way otherwise I would have done it if I'd have been sober and d’you know every day since then especially when I first did it I’ve been fighting the urge to delete them, keep saying to my friend Helen who I was
away with I’m gonna take them down it’s embarrassing what on earth was thinking but I’m forcing myself to leave them because if I can’t be confident now when can I be? I’m not saying I’m Liz Hurley. I’m like, if you ordered Liz
Hurley, I wish, but I kind of I think I looked okay it was Liz’s birthday actually back in May, she was 60. Have you seen her I know I talk about her a lot I know I go on but my God she was 60 and she looks phenomenal I think her waist is half the size of
mine and her thighs she does she just looks utterly stunning and I think it makes it worse when, but again it’s that comparison thing isn’t it, why on Earth am I comparing myself to Liz Hurley? Part of her job is to look the way
that she does and to be the person that she is she looks fucking phenomenal. But I think when I compare myself with myself as well that doesn’t help. So, if you scroll down on my Instagram there’s a bikini pic from
2019 so it’s only you know six years ago but I was three stone lighter than I am now pre-lock down thighs I think that was the that was sort of what made me go all right I've got to delete these photos look at the state of you
but it’s that comparison again isn’t it, but comparison with myself this time even past versions of ourselves can make us feel shit but then, like I say, comparing myself with the person that I was
emotionally, spiritually, mentally a few years ago I wouldn’t want to go back to that even if it meant having the the better bikini body, this sounds so shallow I don’t mean it too. There was a story in the news a couple
weeks ago about who is now the oldest lady in the world I think she’s 115, she must be the oldest one in the world right I have to go back and look again. Her name’s Ethel (of course it is), and she is 115. 115.
I don't think I want to live to 115. Do people want to live to 115, is that a normal thing to go for? Because I was reading about her and she you know she’s, all of her children have died before her but they were in their 80s. Imagine being her
grandchildren now your Ethel’s grandchildren and she’s living in a nice house in Surrey you’re gonna be giving her the side-eye a little bit, aren’t you? Oh, come on, gotta be time now. Oh God, does that sound like I’m being horrible? I don’t mean to
I just think you know, 115. I don’t want to live to 115. I can barely keep up with my Botox payments as it and I’m only in my early 50s. My relationship with the gym hasn’t gotten a better I still absolutely
loath it. Every night when I go to bed I tell myself tomorrow I am going to the gym, I’m gonna do it. And I still don’t do it. I’m counting the days until my membership expires so that I can stop feeling guilty about not going.
But I do walk I live right by a really lovely canal and I take myself out on these little power walks, except people. People are a problem, aren't they? I had a lovely solo canal walk ruined by four blokes in a
—what I can only describe as—a weed-powered dinghy. They floated past me or alongside me at about one mile an hour blazing up and polluting the air and this lovely relaxing vibe that should have been with me
I had to speed walks so just to escape the haze; genuinely wish I had a tiny harpoon with me also, not to hurt them, just to deflate the dinghy you know shoo them back to wherever those sort of loud, smelly men go.
Anyway, as usual I know this has been a bit of a ramble, I’ve gone from Teddy Roosevelt to weed dinghies, but the thread running through it all I think is that comparison does mess us up a bit so I’m kind of going with today’s
inspirational quote. It robs us, it does rob us of joy and perspective. So, I guess, I guess if you’re doing something you love, even if you’re not doing it as well as someone else you’re still doing it, and that’s worth something.
Thank you so much for listening. I’ve been Jules O’Brian with the “Avoid Excessive Cleavage (and Other Advice to Ignore)” podcast. Hope to see you again and ’til then, just remember to ignore the unsolicited advice and the cheesy
inspirational quotes! I hope life treats you well.
[ENDS]