I can relate to having those people in your life that you feel

Hear the voice of Kristen Wiig, who speaks not only as an actress of comedy, but as a woman who has known the quiet ache of comparison: “I can relate to having those people in your life that you feel are moving on to this great, big, normal life and you’re like, ‘What’s wrong with me?’” These words carry the weight of a question whispered in countless hearts: why does my path seem uncertain, when others walk so smoothly toward what the world calls success? Her reflection is not merely about envy, but about the loneliness that grows when one’s life feels out of step with the rhythm of others.

Moving on is a phrase that often carries the allure of stability. Marriage, children, homes, steady careers—these are the signs by which society measures a “normal life.” And yet, for those whose journey does not follow this well-trodden road, a sense of alienation may arise. Wiig gives voice to this feeling: the doubt that whispers, “What’s wrong with me?” It is not that the other life is wrong, but that it is not her path, and the heart struggles to accept that different does not mean lesser.

The ancients knew this torment well. The philosopher Seneca wrote of how men waste themselves by measuring their lives against others, instead of attending to their own destinies. He warned that envy and comparison are thieves of peace, for no two lives are given the same course. To question “What’s wrong with me?” is to forget that every soul has its own season, its own calling, its own form of fulfillment. The oak and the olive do not bloom at the same time, yet both are noble in their season.

Consider the life of Vincent van Gogh. While his peers pursued careers, families, and steady respectability, he wandered in poverty and turmoil. Many might have looked upon him and said he was failing to achieve the “normal life.” Yet in his struggle, he created works that revealed the fire of the human spirit. Though he himself asked, “What’s wrong with me?” his life became proof that worth is not measured by conformity, but by authenticity. His art has outlived the very standards that once judged him.

Wiig’s words remind us that this ache is universal. Even those who appear successful—actors, leaders, creators—feel the pull of comparison and the sting of doubt. The truth, however, is that no life is truly “normal.” What seems smooth on the surface often hides its own fractures. The friend with the steady job may long for adventure. The one with children may yearn for freedom. Every heart wrestles with its own sense of incompleteness.

The lesson, then, is to turn inward and honor the life that is yours. To measure yourself by others is to wound yourself needlessly. Instead, ask: “Am I true to my own path?” If you are, then no comparison can diminish you. The question is not whether you move as others move, but whether you walk in the integrity of your own becoming. What the world calls “normal” may not be your destiny, and that is no defect—it is the mark of individuality.

Practical steps are these: when you feel the pull of comparison, pause and breathe. List the ways in which your life is uniquely yours—the struggles you have faced, the gifts you have cultivated, the joys that are your own. Surround yourself with those who value authenticity over conformity. And remind yourself daily: different does not mean broken. Your pace, your shape, your life are worthy because they are yours.

Thus remember Wiig’s wisdom: the ache of “What’s wrong with me?” is the voice of comparison, not the truth of the soul. Do not let it rule you. Celebrate your own path, however winding, however unorthodox. For the measure of life is not whether it is normal, but whether it is true. And the one who embraces their own truth walks a path more radiant than any borrowed dream.