After the Storm
The Green Shoe Foundation is beautiful on any given day. Some mornings, the sun glistens across the lake. The walking paths invite quiet reflection. Birds seem to know exactly where to gather. And, every now and then, there’s a skunk wandering across the property while everyone politely waits for someone else to encourage it to move along.
It isn’t perfect. But perhaps that’s part of what makes it beautiful.
One thing I noticed throughout this spring was how different our ranch looked after each storm. The heavy rains left everything a little greener. The lake is filled with fresh water. Dust disappeared from the parking lot. The trees seemed more vibrant, and the flowers somehow stood a little taller.
The storm hadn’t diminished the landscape. It had nourished it.
It makes me reflect on what we might look like after a storm. Life has seasons just like nature does. Storms arrive. Winter comes. Branches break. Ice settles in. We wonder whether spring will ever return. Yet every year it does. There is always new growth waiting beneath the surface.
Human beings are remarkably similar. None of us escapes disappointment, loss, rejection, trauma, grief, failure, or uncertainty. These experiences shape us. Sometimes they leave scars. Sometimes they leave wisdom. Often, they leave both.
The question isn’t whether storms will come.
The question is: What grows because of them?
Healing doesn’t erase the storm. It allows us to discover strengths, compassion, resilience, and hope that may never have emerged otherwise.
Our lived experience brings storms that can shape our thinking. Within Pia Mellody’s Model of Developmental Immaturity, one common consequence of childhood experiences is a tendency to organize ourselves around comparison.
We quietly ask questions like:
Am I enough?
Am I better than they are?
Why can’t I be more like them?
Everyone else seems to have it together.
These thoughts often develop long before we’re aware of them. Children naturally compare themselves because they are trying to understand where they fit and whether they are safe, valued, and lovable. When childhood environments are inconsistent, critical, neglectful, or unpredictable, comparison can become a survival strategy.
Instead of believing “I have worth because I exist,” we begin believing “My worth depends on how I measure up. That comparison can move in two directions.
Sometimes we decide we’re less than—not smart enough, successful enough, attractive enough, capable enough, or worthy enough. Other times, we cope by deciding we’re better than—more competent, more deserving, or somehow above others.
Although these seem opposite, both are rooted in the same fear: that our value must be earned or defended. Healthy self-esteem doesn’t require either position. It simply says: “I have value, and so do you.”
The beauty of healing is that we don’t have to stay trapped in comparison. Just as the trees don’t compete with the wildflowers, and the lake doesn’t compare itself to the sky, each part of nature contributes something unique to the whole.Perhaps we’re invited to do the same. The goal isn’t becoming better than someone else. The goal is becoming more fully ourselves.The next time you notice yourself comparing, pause and gently ask:
Is this comparison helping me grow, or making me feel smaller?
What story am I telling myself about my worth? Would I speak to someone I love this way?
What evidence tells me this thought is completely true?
What strengths, progress, or resilience am I overlooking because I’m focused on someone else’s journey?
Can I replace comparison with curiosity? Instead of asking, “Why am I not there?” ask, “What can I learn from this?”
Finally, remember that healing is rarely measured by perfection. It is measured by increased honesty, greater self-compassion, healthier relationships, and the willingness to keep growing after life’s storms.
Like the Green Shoe Foundation after a spring storm, we may discover that some of our greatest beauty appears not despite the storms, but because of them.
