Stress Management: Perspective

Perspective, Normal, and the Illusion of “Compared to What?”

One of the most common—and quietly corrosive—questions people wrestle with is: Compared to what? Compared to who? Compared to where I “should” be by now?

Broadening perspective is one of the most powerful—and humbling—things we can do in life. Many of us walk around with the quiet belief that we don’t have enough, aren’t good enough, or should be further along. And the uncomfortable truth is this: all of that might be true. Someone does have more. Someone is doing better. Someone is ahead.

But the deeper question is: does it actually matter?

In the mental health series, I wrote about the concept of normal. When you’re surrounded by abnormal circumstances long enough, they start to feel normal. The reverse is also true—being surrounded by extremes can make an otherwise healthy person feel deficient or broken.

Most people are not honest about what’s happening inside their own head. We speak from a place of masking—saying what we think we should say, rather than what we’re actually thinking. I only live inside my own head, and I can tell you there are some dark thoughts rattling around in that curly-haired dome. The reason I know that’s normal? Because when people sit across from me one-on-one in my office and feel safe enough to be honest, they tell me they’re having the same thoughts.

We all lack perspective.

Perspective shifts with experience. It changes when you read books. It changes when you listen. Interestingly, the more you talk, the more your own perspective becomes reinforced—sometimes at the expense of growth. That’s why periodically getting a healthy dose of reality matters.

If you want a worldly perspective, travel—but travel honestly. Staying at a Ritz-Carlton in Cancun doesn’t teach you what life is like in Mexico any more than staying at a resort in Europe, Asia, or Africa teaches you what daily life there looks like. Those are curated bubbles. Living closer to the local economy—using public transportation, eating where locals eat, seeing what people actually deal with—provides a truer picture of reality.

People like nice things, but not everything in life is nice. Some things just suck. Not having running water isn’t fun. Cold showers aren’t enjoyable—despite ice baths being trendy in America. Many people live above their means, and when you do that, you feel it. You feel stretched. You feel like you don’t belong. That discomfort cuts both ways: sometimes it’s unhealthy pressure, and other times it’s just enough friction to push you to grow.

Where you live matters more than we’d like to admit.

If you live in a country club, a 7,500-square-foot house and manicured lawns feel normal. If you live in the inner city, chaos feels normal. On a farm, farm life feels normal. If you live at work, work becomes your entire reality. The truth is none of these environments are objectively normal—they’re just familiar.

And if you step back far enough, we all do ridiculous things.

In country-club culture, people inject Botox into their faces—normal. In tattoo and motorcycle culture, people inject ink into their skin—also normal. In jiu-jitsu, grown adults wrestle in pajamas. In lifting culture, we repeatedly pick up heavy objects that don’t need to be lifted. In academic culture, we debate things with virtually no real-world impact. In medicine and the military, we use dark humor that would horrify most people. In parenting, we negotiate daily with a tiny tyrant. As a pet owner, I pick up poop off the ground.

Objectively, it’s all absurd. And yet—we all do it.

Sometimes we get to choose our environment. Sometimes we don’t. But there’s almost always value in seeing how the other side lives. If you live in the country club, go to the inner city. If you live in the inner city, visit the country club. If you live in America, go abroad. If you live abroad, come to America.

Perspective also suffers from a messenger problem.

Two people can tell us the exact same thing—and we’ll listen to one and completely ignore the other. We accept information from people we perceive as authorities and dismiss those we don’t. Expertise, credentials, or perceived intelligence shape whether we hear the message at all—even when the content is identical.

That’s part of why reading is such a powerful tool. When something is written down in a book, we instinctively grant the author authority. We’re quieter. More receptive. Less defensive. Listening—through lectures or podcasts—works similarly. You don’t get to interrupt. You don’t get to argue. You simply receive.

The broader your perspective, the more accurately you can see the world—and yourself. You begin to understand how you’re actually doing, not just compared to your bubble, but relative to the larger human experience.

3-Bullet Summary

• Much of our dissatisfaction comes from limited perspective and unhealthy comparisons, not from actual deficiency.

• “Normal” is largely determined by environment, culture, and exposure—not objective reality.

• Broadening perspective through experience, travel, reading, and listening leads to greater clarity, humility, and peace.

Three Practical Takeaways

1. Audit your environment

   1. Ask yourself: What feels “normal” to me right now—and why? Consider whether your surroundings are expanding or narrowing your perspective.

2. Consume before you comment

   1. Spend more time reading and listening than talking. Choose books, podcasts, or lectures from people outside your usual worldview.

3. Seek contrast intentionally

   1. Occasionally place yourself in environments that are unfamiliar or uncomfortable—not to judge them, but to understand them. Perspective grows at the edges.