Why Other People’s Opinions Never Feel Like Enough
What Isaiah Can Teach You About Comparison, Approval, and Knowing Your Worth
There is a strange problem with finally getting what you thought would make you feel good enough.
It usually does.
For about five minutes.
Maybe you finally get the shoes you wanted.
The phone.
The clothes.
The attention.
The compliment.
The spot on the team.
The grade.
The date.
The follow.
The acceptance.
For a little while, it feels great.
Then somebody else walks in with something newer.
Better.
More expensive.
More impressive.
And suddenly the thing that made you feel pretty good about yourself yesterday somehow feels smaller today.
That is one of the exhausting things about allowing the world to measure your worth.
The measuring stick never stays still.
Isaiah describes an ancient kingdom called Babylon this way:
“Babylon, the glory of kingdoms, the beauty of the Chaldees’ excellency.”
—Isaiah 13:19
Notice what Isaiah does not say.
He does not say Babylon was ugly.
He does not say nobody wanted what Babylon had.
He does not describe it as unimpressive.
He calls it “the glory of kingdoms.”
Babylon looked incredible.
Powerful.
Successful.
Beautiful.
And then it fell.
That is one of the messages running through Isaiah 13–14.
Something can look impressive and still be a terrible foundation for your identity.
There is nothing wrong with wanting nice things.
There is nothing wrong with caring about how you look.
There is nothing wrong with enjoying clothes, shoes, sports, success, friendships, achievements, or attention.
The problem begins when those things stop being things you have and start becoming the things that tell you who you are.
That is where the measuring stick becomes dangerous.
You start asking:
Do people like me?
Do I look good enough?
Am I popular enough?
Am I successful enough?
Do I have what everyone else has?
Do people notice me?
What do they think of me?
And the world is always willing to answer.
Unfortunately, its answer changes every fifteen minutes.
Isaiah gives us an even deeper picture of pride in Isaiah 14.
He describes the repeated attitude:
“I will ascend.”
“I will exalt.”
“I will be like the most High.”
Over and over, the focus is I.
My position.
My glory.
My importance.
My recognition.
That is one reason pride is so exhausting.
Eventually, everything becomes a scoreboard.
And somebody is always ahead.
There is a story in the Book of Mormon that sounds surprisingly modern.
Alma describes people who became “lifted up in the pride of their eyes” and began wearing “very costly apparel.”
Their clothes were not really the problem.
Their hearts were.
They had started using what they possessed as evidence of who mattered more.
We still do versions of that.
The labels change.
The human heart does not.
Maybe the label is on a hoodie.
Maybe it is the number of followers beside your name.
Maybe it is your GPA.
Maybe it is how many people want to sit by you.
Maybe it is whether someone finds you attractive.
Maybe it is whether your life looks as good as everybody else’s life appears to look online.
And if you are not careful, you can spend enormous amounts of energy trying to win a contest that never actually ends.
I understand that more than I wish I did.
When I was in high school, appearance mattered way too much to me.
Clothes.
Hair.
What people thought.
Whether I looked right.
Whether I fit in.
Whether people approved.
At the time, I probably would have called that confidence.
Looking back, it was closer to being a prisoner.
Because when your happiness depends on other people’s opinions, you are handing them a ridiculous amount of power over you.
A compliment can make your day.
A criticism can ruin it.
A new pair of shoes can make you feel great until somebody else gets the pair everyone suddenly wants.
The world keeps moving the measuring stick.
And you keep running after it.
One of the unexpected blessings of my mission was discovering how freeing it was to stop thinking about myself so much.
I was thinking more about God.
More about the people we were teaching.
More about my companion.
More about serving.
And strangely enough, the less obsessed I became with myself, the more I started becoming comfortable with myself.
There is an old poem I love:
“I sought my soul, but my soul I could not see.
I sought my God, but my God eluded me.
I sought my brother, and I found all three.”
There is something deeply true in that.
Sometimes the fastest way to lose ourselves is to constantly stare at ourselves.
And sometimes the fastest way to find ourselves is to start looking toward God and other people.
I have also spent time around people who had a lot of money.
Beautiful homes.
Expensive cars.
Successful careers.
The kind of things people imagine will finally make life feel secure.
Some were wonderfully happy.
Others were miserable.
The money was not the difference.
The question was what they expected the money to do for them.
Money can buy something comfortable.
It cannot tell you that you matter.
Clothes can change how you look.
They cannot determine your worth.
Popularity can give you attention.
It cannot give you identity.
Achievement can tell you that you accomplished something.
It cannot tell you why you are valuable.
Only God gets to answer that question.
And His measuring stick does not move.
You are His child.
Your worth existed before anybody followed you.
Before anybody dated you.
Before you made the team.
Before you earned the grade.
Before somebody complimented your appearance.
And it remains after somebody rejects you.
Criticizes you.
Ignores you.
Or misunderstands you.
That does not mean other people’s opinions will suddenly stop mattering.
We are human.
Of course they matter.
But they do not have to matter most.
President Ezra Taft Benson once taught that the proud often fear human judgment more than God’s judgment.
That is worth thinking about.
Whose opinion has the loudest voice in your life?
Because the person whose opinion matters most eventually gets to tell you who you are.
Isaiah’s message about Babylon is not that everything beautiful, successful, fashionable, or impressive is evil.
It is something much wiser.
Do not build your identity on something that can fall.
Babylon was glorious.
And Babylon fell.
Jesus Christ offers something different.
He does not ask you to prove your value.
He reveals it.
He does not love the improved version of you that you hope to become someday.
He loves you now—and then because He loves you, He helps you become more.
The world says:
Prove that you matter.
Jesus Christ says:
You matter. Now come follow Me.
Those are very different foundations.
And only one of them stays still.
Scripture
“I will cause the arrogancy of the proud to cease.”
—Isaiah 13:11
“And Babylon, the glory of kingdoms, the beauty of the Chaldees’ excellency…”
—Isaiah 13:19
“If he boasts in his own strength … he must fall.”
—Doctrine and Covenants 3:4
Reflection
Whose opinion affects the way you feel about yourself most strongly?
What “measuring sticks” do you use to decide whether you are doing okay?
Appearance?
Popularity?
Grades?
Sports?
Clothes?
Relationships?
Social media?
When have you gotten something you really wanted and discovered that the excitement did not last very long?
What changes when you remember that your worth comes from God rather than other people?
Is there one area of your life where you are giving somebody else’s opinion more power than it deserves?
Today’s Challenge
Identify one measuring stick the world has been using on you.
Maybe it is:
appearance
popularity
clothes
athletic ability
academic success
dating
social media
money
somebody else’s approval
Then ask yourself:
“Is this telling me what God thinks of me—or only what the world thinks of me?”
Do one thing today that moves your attention away from yourself and toward someone else.
Text someone who needs encouragement.
Serve at home.
Sit by someone who is usually alone.
Pray for somebody besides yourself.
Give a sincere compliment.
Sometimes the quickest way out of the world’s measuring contest is to stop competing long enough to love somebody.
Christ-Centered Thought
Jesus Christ never needed the world to tell Him who He was.
People praised Him.
Then rejected Him.
Crowds followed Him.
Then abandoned Him.
Some called Him the Son of God.
Others called Him a deceiver.
If His identity had depended on public opinion, His life would have been an emotional roller coaster.
But He knew where His identity came from.
His Father.
You can learn that same truth.
People will misunderstand you.
Styles will change.
Popularity will shift.
Success will come and go.
The measuring stick will keep moving.
But the truth about who you are does not move with it.
You are a child of God.
You belong to Jesus Christ.
And Babylon can give you glory for a while.
But it cannot give you a foundation.
Build your life on Someone who can.
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