Have I Failed?

Have I Failed?

Lately, this question has been showing up in my head more often than it should.

It does not come with a warning. It just appears out of nowhere, usually when I am doing something normal, like scrolling my phone, lying in bed, or pretending to be productive while my brain is secretly opening another tab called “what am I doing with my life?”

Not in a dramatic way. It is not like I sit alone in the dark, staring out the window like the main character of a sad movie. It is quieter than that. It usually happens when I open LinkedIn for no reason, see someone my age posting about a new job, a promotion, or another “grateful for this opportunity” moment, and suddenly my brain starts asking questions I was not prepared to answer.

Have I failed?

It is a weird question, because sometimes my life is not even that bad. I still wake up. I still go to work. I still try. I still reply to messages like a functioning adult, even when deep inside I feel like a browser with too many tabs open.

But somehow, seeing other people move faster makes my own progress feel smaller.

And the worst part is, I do it to myself.

Nobody forced me to open the app. Nobody invited me to compare my life at 10 PM while lying on my bed like a disappointed potato. But there I am, scrolling with one hand and judging my entire existence with the other.

One minute I am fine. The next minute I see someone announce a new position, and suddenly I am doing math in my head.

How old are they?

How old am I?

How much are they earning?

Why does their profile picture look so professional?

And then I start doing that dangerous thing: comparing my normal day with someone else’s best announcement.

Their post says, “I am excited to share…” and my brain replies, “Excited to share what? That we are still confused?”

I know it is unfair. I know everyone has their own timeline. I know I should not measure my life using someone else’s progress bar.

But knowing something and actually feeling okay about it are two completely different departments. And apparently, both departments in my brain are understaffed.

So I sit there, trying to be happy for them while also fighting a small internal crisis. Like, congratulations, truly. I am proud of you. But also, why does your success feel like a surprise audit on my own life?