My Parents Are Comparing My Marks to Every Relative's Child

Sharma ji ke bete ko 96 mile. You have heard this sentence, or a version of it, more times than you can count. Sometimes it's a cousin who got into IIT. Sometimes it's your neighbour's daughter who "topped" her school. Sometimes it's just the general atmosphere of every family gathering after results — a ranking system you didn't sign up for, applied to you in real time.

You smile and say the right things. You nod. Maybe you say accha hai or bahut mehnat ki hogi. And then you go home and feel something that doesn't have a clean name — somewhere between shame and anger and the exhausting sense of never quite being enough.

This is a piece about that feeling. What it is, where it comes from, and — more importantly — what you can do with it.

What comparison is actually doing (beyond the obvious)

The surface harm is clear: it feels bad. You already know that. But there's a deeper thing happening, and it's worth naming precisely.

When comparison becomes the primary language around your achievement, you start to understand your own value relationally — not based on what you did, what you learned, or how much you've grown, but based on how you stack up against specific other people. This is an extraordinarily unstable way to feel okay about yourself.

Think about it: if your sense of worth depends on being better than someone else, you're permanently at the mercy of what other people score. You can't control that. No matter how hard you work, there will always be someone who got 97 when you got 91, someone who cracked JEE when you didn't. The goalposts move. The comparisons update. And you are left perpetually chasing a finish line that isn't actually there.

The Sharma ji ka beta problem

The person you're being compared to is almost always a curated figure. You are not being compared to Sharma ji's actual son — his struggles, his sleep deprivation, his anxiety on results day, the things he's bad at, the coaching he had that you didn't, the subject he genuinely loves and you were forced into. You are being compared to a number, presented as if it represents a complete person.

It doesn't. No number does.

What that 96 doesn't tell you: whether he slept properly during the exam. Whether he actually wanted to study that subject or whether his parents chose it for him. Whether he feels good about himself, or whether his parents are already comparing him to someone who got 98. Numbers travel. Context doesn't. And when you absorb the comparison without the context, you're measuring your full self against a partial story about someone else.

That is never a fair comparison. Not to you. Not to them.

Why parents do this — and why it doesn't help even when they mean well

Most parents who compare are not doing it to be cruel. They are doing it from anxiety — their own anxiety about your future, about whether you'll be okay, about their standing in a social world where children's achievements are public and constantly evaluated. When your father mentions your cousin's rank, he's not necessarily saying you're inadequate. He may genuinely believe he's motivating you. He may be trying to tell you something is possible. He may not have the language for what he actually feels, which is fear.

But intention doesn't change impact.

When comparison is the primary feedback you receive on your work, it shapes how you see yourself — whether or not that was the goal. A child who hears enough times that others are doing better eventually internalises a quiet question: Am I ever going to be enough? That question doesn't go away when results season ends. It tends to follow a person.

What you can actually do

You cannot control the comparisons. They will happen at the next family gathering and the one after that. But what you can do — and this is harder and more important than it sounds — is notice that your internal reaction to them does not have to be your verdict on yourself.

Here are things that actually help:

• Name the feeling separately from the fact. "My parents compared me to my cousin" is a fact. "I am not good enough" is a story your mind is adding. Those are different things. You don't have to accept the story just because the comparison happened.
• Find evidence of yourself that has nothing to do with marks. The things you're good at, the moments when you've been kind or curious or persistent or funny — those exist independently of any scoreboard. They don't show up in results, but they are also real, and they are also you.
• Talk to your parents when things are calm, not in the heat of comparison. Not to argue. Not to defend yourself. But to say, honestly: When you compare me to others, I feel bad about myself, not motivated. I need you to know that. Some parents genuinely don't know what it feels like from your side.
• Limit how much the comparison lives in your head after the moment passes. You can't unsay what was said. But you don't have to replay it all night either.

And if the comparison culture at home has become genuinely damaging — if it's affecting your self-worth consistently, your motivation, your relationship with your parents, your sleep before exams — talking to a therapist can help you build a clearer, more stable sense of who you are that isn't contingent on anyone else's rankings.

That kind of groundedness is possible. It doesn't come from achieving more. It comes from understanding yourself better. And it is worth working toward — not because exams don't matter, but because you matter more than any single set of results.

If you'd like to talk, you can reach out directly on WhatsApp: wa.me/919560067620. No intake forms, no pressure — just a conversation about what's going on.

Try: What's Actually True? — separate your worth from your rank Try: Three Good Things — find evidence of yourself that has nothing to do with marks Take the free stress screening — 3 minutes