I used to feel a twinge of jealousy every time I opened Instagram. I’d see friends on lavish vacations, influencers with spotless apartments, and even former classmates announcing big promotions—always with bright, beaming smiles. You know what I mean?
I’d be on my sofa in my small London apartment, scrolling through a highlight reel of everybody else’s achievements, comparing them against my own daily reality.
And you know what? The constant comparison was slowly draining me.
I don’t think I’m alone in this. Research suggests that social media use can amplify comparisons and lead to envy. One study even found that limiting social media usage decreases feelings of loneliness and depression.
It took some courage (and a little self-awareness) for me to confront my daily routines, but once I did, my entire outlook changed. I went from feeling insecure about what I lacked to feeling deeply grateful for what I had.
Below are the five habits I ditched. If you’ve ever caught yourself envying someone else’s life on social media, maybe my story will help.
01 Scrolling first thing in the morning
Wake up, grab my phone, and check Instagram and Twitter before my eyes were fully open – that was my daily routine. Right away, I was hit with other people’s success stories, breakfast spreads, and scenic views from their sunrise runs.
Breaking this habit was game-changing. I replaced my morning scroll with a simple, short mindfulness routine—ten deep breaths, then focusing on what I want out of the day.
My phone stays on the other side of the room now. By the time I do pick it up, I’m in a more grounded state. It sounds trivial, but it rewired my perspective. Instead of feeling behind, I can start my day feeling focused on my own priorities.
02 Constantly comparing my chapter one to someone else’s chapter twenty
“Compare yourself to who you were yesterday, not to who someone else is today.” – Dr. Jordan Peterson, 12 Rules For Life
When I scrolled through social media, I’d measure my early struggles against people who’d been hustling for years, or who simply started off with different advantages.
In truth, we never see the full story behind those pictures. That successful content creator might have spent a decade building their brand. Or that friend traveling the world could be dealing with challenges they never share online.
Learning not to compare was tough, but essential. These days, when I catch myself falling into the trap, I remember Peterson’s words. I ask: Have I improved from who I was last year or last month? That’s the only comparison that truly matters.
03 Looking for likes as validation
Confession time: I used to obsess over how many likes or comments my posts would get.
If a picture didn’t perform “well,” I’d start questioning its quality—or, worse, my own. It was exhausting. And ironically, it only made me judge other people’s likes, too—fueling more jealousy when their engagement seemed higher.
When I finally stopped chasing these vanity metrics, my stress levels dipped almost immediately.
Yes, it’s nice to get positive feedback. But if you let likes define your self-worth, you’ll always be on shaky ground. I started asking myself: Would I still do this, share this, or enjoy this moment if no one else saw it? If the answer was no, then I knew I was doing it for the wrong reasons.
Now, I focus on sharing things that genuinely matter to me—regardless of how much engagement they get. And you know what? It’s freeing. Because real life happens beyond the screen, and my happiness isn’t up for public approval.
04 I was failing to celebrate other people’s wins
Before, whenever someone posted their accomplishments, I’d scroll on by—even as a friend. My thinking was, “Yeah, good for you, but what about me?” Sounds horrible, I know.
That mindset ended up isolating me from close connections. And ironically, seeing them succeed made me feel worse about myself.
So I started to actually hit that “like” button with genuine support. I’d send congratulatory messages if someone shared good news, and take time to see if there was a way I could learn from their achievement.
Some folks might call this the “law of reciprocity”—when you uplift others, they often uplift you in return. Celebrating someone else’s win doesn’t minimize your own potential; if anything, it puts you in the right headspace to recognize opportunities in your life.
05 Never unplugging
Let’s finish with a big one.
I used to be always on—scrolling while eating, checking notifications during conversations, and mindlessly refreshing feeds whenever there was a lull in my day. It felt like I was ‘staying connected’, but in reality, I was just overstimulated and disconnected from my own life.
Social media had become my default distraction. If I had five minutes to spare, I’d reach for my phone instead of sitting with my thoughts. And the more I consumed, the more I craved—scrolling wasn’t just a habit; it was an escape.
Breaking this cycle wasn’t easy, but I started setting small boundaries. I turned off notifications, gave myself screen-free time in the evenings, and even took intentional social media breaks.
At first, I worried I’d be missing out. But instead, I found myself more present, more focused, and far less anxious about keeping up with everyone else’s lives.
Now, I’m selective about when and how I engage with social media. I use it as a tool, not a crutch. And the best part? I no longer feel like life is passing me by while I watch someone else’s highlights—I’m too busy living my own.
Final thoughts
If any of these habits feel uncomfortably familiar to you, don’t beat yourself up. It’s never too late to pivot.
In my experience, these tweaks to my routine led to more self-love, better relationships, and a genuine sense of peace. In the end, I learned that being content doesn’t mean you stop striving. It just means you appreciate what you’ve already got while you keep going after the things that matter to you.
I still keep up with folks on social media—it’s an easy way to find cool book recommendations or learn about new travel spots. But now I do it without the knot in my stomach telling me I’m missing out.
And that, my friends, is a feeling worth keeping.
