How to Stop Comparing Your Art to Others (and Grow Instead)

Updated on 02/09/2026 by Rita Moreira

Every artist I have taught has hit the same wall at some point: you finish a drawing you were proud of an hour ago, then you open your phone, scroll past someone’s flawless graphite portrait, and suddenly your own page looks like a child did it. That sinking feeling is one of the most common reasons people quietly put the pencil down for good.

The good news is that comparison is a habit, not a verdict on your talent. In this guide I want to show you how to turn it from something that stops you into something that quietly pushes you forward, using the same shift in perspective I give my own students.

How do you stop comparing your art to others?

You stop comparing your art to others by changing your reference point: measure today’s drawing against your own work from a month ago, not against a stranger’s highlight reel. Comparison becomes useful only when it feeds a specific lesson, and harmful the moment it just makes you feel behind. The skill is spotting which of the two is happening.

That sounds simple, but it takes a bit of practice to make it automatic. Most of us have spent years training the opposite reflex, so be patient with yourself while the new habit settles in.

Why do I keep comparing my art to others?

You keep comparing your art to others because your brain is wired to measure where you stand by looking sideways at people around you. Psychologists call this social comparison, and it is completely normal. The problem is not the instinct itself; it is the unfair match-up you set up when you compare your everyday practice to someone else’s best public work.

When I catch myself doing it, I try to notice one detail: am I comparing my beginning to someone else’s middle? A person posting a hyperrealistic portrait has usually drawn for years and made hundreds of pages you will never see. Comparing your week three to their year eight is not honesty, it is self-sabotage dressed up as being realistic.

There is also a technical trap hiding here. Much of the work that intimidates us is photorealism, a style built on reference, grids and slow rendering rather than raw natural gift. Knowing that the “impossible” piece was made with learnable methods takes a surprising amount of sting out of the comparison.

The social media trap: you only see the finished piece

Social media shows you the finished piece and hides everything that made it possible. You see the polished final scan, not the three hours of erasing, the smudged first attempt, or the twelve earlier drawings that went in the bin. Comparing your messy process to someone’s edited result is the single most common mistake I see, and it is completely unfair to you.

I always remind my students that a feed is a shop window, not a workshop. Nobody films the moment they realise the proportions are wrong and start again. If you could watch the full journey behind most of those portraits, including the bad days, the comparison would lose almost all of its power over you.

A useful test: before you let a piece of art crush your mood, ask what you cannot see. What went wrong before this worked? How long did the artist practise to get here? The answer is almost always “far more than the post admits”.

Compare yourself to who you were a month ago

The healthiest comparison is with your own past self. Instead of measuring against strangers, measure against the person you were four weeks ago, because that is the only race you can actually win. This is where progress becomes visible and motivating instead of crushing.

Here is the simple routine I recommend to turn comparison into fuel:

1. Date every drawing. Write the day in a corner so you always know how old a piece is.
2. Keep a “one month ago” folder. Photograph your work and look back only at what you made roughly thirty days earlier.
3. Name one thing that improved. Cleaner edges, smoother blending, a better sense of light: pick a single win each time.
4. Name one thing to practise next. Turn the gap into a specific task, not a vague feeling of “not good enough”.
5. Repeat monthly. Over a year you build undeniable proof that you are moving forward.

When I first started teaching, I kept every student’s early sheet on file. Months later, showing them where they began was more encouraging than any compliment I could give. Your own progress, seen honestly, is the antidote to everyone else’s feed. If you want a structured way to do this, our guide on how to track your art progress walks through it step by step.

Healthy reference versus destructive comparison

Not all comparison is poison. Looking at art you admire is one of the fastest ways to learn, as long as you use it to study rather than to judge yourself. The difference lies entirely in what you do with what you see.

The rule I use is blunt: if looking at someone’s work sends me to my desk, it is reference. If it sends me to the sofa feeling defeated, it is comparison, and I close the app. Learning to study a piece for its use of reference and light keeps your attention on the method, which is the part you can actually steal and reuse.

How to not compare your art to others: a practical routine

The most reliable way to not compare your art to others is to build small habits that protect your focus. You cannot delete the instinct, but you can starve it of easy opportunities and redirect the energy into your own practice.

• Curate your feed. Follow artists who teach and show process, and mute the accounts that only make you feel small.
• Draw before you scroll. Put pencil to paper first thing, so your mood is set by making, not by consuming.
• Set a “study, not judge” rule. When admiration turns to gloom, switch to actively analysing one technique.
• Finish your own pieces. Completing work, even imperfectly, builds the quiet confidence that comparison cannot touch.

There is decent evidence that making art is good for us in its own right: a 2019 World Health Organization scoping review by Fancourt and Finn gathered evidence that creative activity supports mental wellbeing. That is worth holding onto on the days the comparison bites: the drawing is doing you good regardless of how it stacks up against a stranger online. If some days you genuinely dislike everything you make, you are in good company, and our piece on what to do when you hate your own drawings may help.

Start simple and stop comparing kit

One sneaky form of comparison is about materials, not skill. Beginners often decide they are behind because they lack an expensive set, when in truth a single HB and a 4B pencil will carry you through most fundamentals. I still reach for a basic kit far more often than a fancy one.

If you do want to buy, a heritage brand like Derwent, made in the Lake District since 1832, is a reliable starting point, and you will find it at Hobbycraft, Cass Art or Jackson’s Art, as well as on Amazon.co.uk. Good tools help, but they will never be the reason your work does or does not improve. Consistent practice will. If you are unsure where to begin, our overview of drawing materials for beginners keeps it refreshingly cheap.

Frequently Asked Questions

How do I stop comparing my art to others?

Change what you compare yourself to. Instead of measuring your work against a stranger’s finished, edited post, compare it with your own drawings from a month ago. That is the only comparison that is fair and that you can win.

When you do look at other artists, use it to study a technique, not to judge your worth. If a piece makes you want to try something new, it is helping. If it just makes you feel behind, close the app and go back to your own page.

Why do I keep comparing my art to others?

Because it is human. Psychologists call it social comparison, and everyone does it automatically. The trouble starts when the match-up is unfair: you pit your everyday practice against someone else’s best, most polished public work.

Remember that you are usually comparing your beginning to their middle. The artist behind an intimidating portrait has often drawn for years and binned far more pages than they ever showed. Seeing that gap honestly, rather than as proof you lack talent, takes most of the pressure off.

How do I not compare my art to others on social media?

Treat your feed as something you shape, not something that happens to you. Mute accounts that only make you feel small, and follow artists who show their process and mistakes, not just glossy final scans.

Draw before you scroll, so your mood is set by making rather than consuming. And keep one rule handy: if looking at someone’s work sends you to your desk, it is useful reference; if it sends you to the sofa feeling defeated, close the app for the day.