Unveiling Comparison as the Thief of Joy: Healing Relationship Codependency
Yesterday, as I was wrapping up a sound + reiki class, I was feeling tired. My partner was there as we had an event to go to afterward. He was also tired. I found myself packing up my instruments and getting swept into my thoughts. An image popped up from last week when another teacher was there with her partner, and he was helping her carry her instruments after her class. In that moment, when this thought and memory arose, I was veiled by my own exhaustion. I looked out of the studio door and saw my partner sitting on the couch on his phone out in the lobby. My mind picked up on a relational internal opposition: “Why is my partner not helping me?” The most interesting moment was when I caught myself and recognized that that’s not my normal internal dialogue. There was bitterness from my tiredness. As I was flowing through this whole internal process of comparison, I heard clearly in my head, “comparison is the thief of joy.” I was taken aback a little, as I had not heard that phrase before—at least not to my conscious awareness.
Later, I looked up the quote. It seems to be attributed to Theodore Roosevelt, but there's not actually technical proof that he spoke those words. I will just attribute it to a collective quote that arises in times of deep comparison. However, it's very true: comparison is the thief of joy. We compare when we see things that other people have, viewing them through the veil of a lack of our own abundance. Sometimes we think we want or need those things that others might have when, in reality, they are not always truly things that would bring joy into our lives.
Why We Project Unexpected Expectations on the People We Love
Don’t get me wrong—would it have been nice if my partner had come and helped me? Maybe. But also, he was tired too. Both of us were just doing the best that we could in that moment. Sometimes we can find ourselves putting unexpected expectations on others within our relationships because we compare the relational dynamics that we witness others having, even when we don't have the full context. It’s a very dangerous area to be in, especially when we're comparing and contrasting within our more intimate relationships—whether they be romantic or platonic. I believe that ultimately extends to how we are relating to anything in our life.
Balancing Interdependency vs. Codependency: The Aries and Libra Polarity
The archetypal and energetic landscape of Aries illuminates within us our sense of individuality, the ability to assert our will, our power, to initiate action, and the drive behind the purpose of action which is rooted in our desires. Its essence, in addition to Mars, gives us glimpses of the raw, primal force of Eros. When we find the Full Moon resting in the sign of Aries, it will always speak to an opposition with the Sun in Libra. Through the Sun's light radiating outwardly, we find the Moon in a receptive relationship with the Light of Libra. The undercurrents of energy guide us toward a point of singularity and duality that rests within all relational dynamics. In order for there to be balance in life, a counterbalancing act will always come into play. It reminds me of science class and weighing objects—you had to get the counterbalance just right to get the proper measurement and data.
This got me thinking of the play between interdependence and codependence. I found this article called, “Signs You’re In A Codependent or Interdependent Relationship,” and I think it lays out the two definitions well. Essentially, interdependence is the ability to be within a relationship and still maintain a sense of boundaries, autonomy, and your own self-identity. While codependence blurs the boundaries with others and pulls one into a space where their actions are heavily dependent on the other person in the relational dynamic. This can lead to freely giving away one's ability to have authority over their own life, as everything is done based on the relationship. Here is where we can resource Aries when we find ourselves in these spaces of relational dynamics. Through Aries and Mars, we can assert healthy boundaries, and with Libra, we can balance the scales in an ongoing fashion that allows us to adjust the counterbalance as needed. (My mind instantly thinks about the piece, Primal Wailing & Protected Boundaries: Shifting Our Scales with Venus in Scorpio, that I wrote before. I recommend this read if adjusting your boundaries is something you are working on in this season of your life.)
The Astrology of Boundaries: Navigating Saturn, Neptune, and Mars in Cancer
At the time of me writing this, the Full Moon is resting between Neptune and Saturn, both retrograde in Aries. Neptune and Saturn sharing their story in the lunation makes me think of the illusion of where we might think we have full independence at times when we might actually be limited and confined by boundaries—whether there or lacking—that we aren’t fully consciously aware about. Innately, we do all depend on each other in many ways that we might not give conscious awareness to sometimes. For example, everything that's been created today has been through others over time. It’s not like we were consciously depending on people from the past to create the inventions, societies, or any other form of creation. However, I like to think we as humans are one large organ—organisms of existence—so, there is this dependability on life itself and the cyclical nature in which it unfolds. Life is always balancing in reciprocity over smaller and larger periods of time. Yet the illusion that veils us in comparison happens when we haven’t taken the time to honor our specific needs and wants within a time period of our own life. Due to comparison, we can easily find ourselves thinking of what we should want, and even sometimes need, based on what we observe in the relational dynamics of others.
Fear can be a heavy influence on codependency. The fear of not existing without another, or the fear of missing out on something, can make us miss out on the very things that we do have. Sometimes that fear can cause us to lose our own individuality because we give away our personal will and power by becoming so absorbed in another. This brings us back to our earlier reflection: when we are constantly comparing ourselves or our life to another person or situational circumstance, we lose sight of the structures within our own lives. This causes us to forget our own boundaries and why they were even placed there in the first place. Boundaries are necessary, as we are all individuals experiencing life from our own point of perception. However, boundaries that provide hyper-independence can be just as harmful. This is the Sun in Libra. We aren’t meant to swing to extremes and stay there forever. At times, we need to figure out what it feels like on the swing of polarity—the recognition of the Self and the Other—to bring balance and union. Balancing is happening in every moment. Eventually, though, after many swings back and forth between Self vs. Other, there comes a level of maturing—specifically emotional maturity.
Ocean Medicine: Finding Compassion in the Swell of High Emotions
This morning I went to the beach because I had to drop my partner off at work at 5 a.m., far before the sunrise. As I was driving him to work, I looked at the Moon above in the sky and wondered, what if I go watch the moon set? As we were driving down the freeway, there was a whole bunch of clouds. The Moon would make an appearance and then shortly disappear, but I had a strong pull in my body to go to the ocean and sit with the Moon regardless of if I could see it or not. I wouldn’t know until I got there, so why not just go regardless? Sure enough, I arrived and the moonlight was shimmering on the water as waves crashed against the cliffs. The Moon’s light was glistening like silver liquid pouring onto the water—millions of little sparkles before my eyes. As I kept looking at the water, my mind was in meditation from the movement of light and water nature gifted me the sight of seeing. As the waves were swelling, I began to notice that when there were larger waves, the moon's light on the water kind of disappeared—almost like the clouds hiding the Moon. It got darker in those areas that were just beneath the swelling waves preparing for their crash.
This alchemized the medicine of Mars in the sign of Cancer. When emotions swell and run high, they block our ability to see sometimes. When we're trying to operate in a place that is dark, it asks for a subtle awareness of navigation. Sometimes the inability to see might invite us to take a moment to rest. At the yoga studio, as my mind was running a story of comparison, there was only room for the phrase, "comparison is the thief of joy" to flow through because I took a pause. I connected with my breath and remembered what is true and factual in this moment. As that recognition came to my mind, I pulled myself out of bitterness and moved forward again with compassion for myself and my partner.
🜁 Reflective Journal Prompts
In what ways do you sacrifice your own identity, boundaries, or autonomy to keep the peace in your relationships?
Where are you over-relying on independence as a defense mechanism, keeping others from truly showing up for you?
Let’s share a reflective dialogue below.
🜄 Deepen Your Journey: The Astrology Snail Mail Club
If you want to step away from digital screens and process these cosmic movements with tactile medicine, join the Astrology Snail Mail Club. Each month, I mail printed cosmic reflections, original watercolor art, and seasonal journal prompts directly to your physical mailbox.
You can also join the community newsletter here for updates on upcoming gatherings, workshops, and offers to support you along your seasonal journey.