It was an unusually warm February afternoon, and I was sitting out on the quad in the few moments before my next class. Every so often I would glance up from my reading and notice other women walk by wearing high-waisted shorts and tank tops, and I found it hard to pull my eyes away. Why? I’m straight, so what motivation would I have to steal glances at women in cute summer clothes?

Simple: I was comparing myself to them.

As soon as they walked past, I would look down at my own legs and arms — soft, pale, printed with stretch marks and cellulite. I’d feel a twinge of envy, then self-hatred, then hopeless apathy as I went back to my reading until the next person walked by to trigger the cycle again.

My thoughts of body dissatisfaction are common, especially among women as the weather begins to warm up. All too often I hear people say things like, “I wish I looked like her” or “If my thighs weren’t so fat I could definitely wear this dress.” Society has firmly ingrained in us that unless we’re at a certain BMI and body fat percentage, we cannot attempt to wear an outfit that we otherwise love.

And other times, thoughts of pride run through our heads — cruel thoughts that tear others down rather than building ourselves up. These are the things we think but don’t say. The other week I was out and about and saw somebody much heavier than me eating a pasta bowl. I’m ashamed to say that the first thought that dashed across my mind was, I’m glad I’m not like that. Immediately I discarded the thought.

It’s problematic, mean, judgmental, and completely unnecessary. Although we cannot condemn ourselves for thoughts that appear in our minds (only if we allow them to stay), I can’t help but wonder if that thought arose from a place of needing to constantly compare my body to others’, for better or for worse.

It’s human nature to want to assess our progress in relation to how well others are doing, but it becomes destructive when we sabotage our own happiness because of unhelpful views of what success is. Why is a thin body supposedly more desirable than a chubby one, even if the chubby body is fitter and happier? When we compare our bodies to others, we only get a small fraction of the whole story: what we can see with our eyes. We have absolutely no idea how the owner of that body is feeling, achieving, and dreaming. We are blind to their own unique set of circumstances that affect the way they appear on the outside.

It’s dangerous to continue the cycle of measuring ourselves against someone else’s yardstick. In the end, we won’t be motivated to succeed; we’ll only feel hopeless and unhappy about our own amazing strides. It’s past time to stop comparing ourselves and realize that every body is beautiful; the greatest thing we can do is to take care of it.