Tọlá Belva

The other day, while sitting in a cozy coffee shop, sipping some chai tea, my attention was drawn to a quote on the wall. It was by Diane Von Furstenberg, and it read:

“You know, there’s a thing about the woman across the room. You see the woman across the room, you think, ‘She’s so poised; she’s so together.’ But she looks at you and you are the woman across the room for her.”

The words struck a chord, interrupting my usual habit of letting my gaze wander, silently admiring the people around me. Just moments before, someone who seemed effortlessly chic had caught my eye, followed by another exuding calm confidence. My thoughts, as they often did, started to drift into comparisons. But this quote brought a fresh perspective: the people I admired might be looking at me the same way.

For days, the message lingered in my mind, unfolding in ways I hadn’t expected. It made me realize just how much energy was spent on comparing myself to others, often assuming they were more complete, more capable, or more poised. It’s so easy to fall into that pattern and think, She’s so much more accomplished than I am, or, I wish I had her style, her presence, her confidence. Yet Diane Von Furstenberg’s words suggest something profound: the people who inspire us might see something equally admirable in us.

This wasn’t something I wanted to merely ponder and forget—I wanted to internalize it. Over the next few weeks, I paid closer attention to those moments of self-doubt. Each time a comparison arose, I reminded myself: You’re not supposed to be like her. You’re supposed to be like you.

It wasn’t just about being kind to myself; it was about shifting how I perceived my own worth. Instead of dwelling on what I thought I lacked, I began focusing on the qualities that made me unique—the ones that aren’t always visible at a glance. The warmth of my smile, the way I can make someone laugh, the quiet resilience I’ve built over time—these are all parts of me that can’t be measured against someone else.

The process wasn’t seamless, and there were setbacks along the way. Some days, old habits crept back in, but over time, they started to lose their hold. Little by little, I learned to stop seeing myself through the lens of comparison and instead recognize the beauty and strength that are inherently mine.

After weeks of reflection and practice, I felt ready to share this experience. Living these ideas was necessary before writing about them. It’s one thing to feel a momentary spark of inspiration; it’s another to let it reshape the way you think and act.

Here’s what I’ve come to believe: there will always be a “woman across the room.” She’ll always seem poised, radiant, and effortlessly put together. But her light doesn’t diminish yours. It never could. You don’t need her kind of beauty or grace because you have your own. And perhaps she’s looking at you, noticing your magic in a way you might not even realize.

Now, whenever admiration strikes, I let it be a reminder of individuality rather than a source of self-doubt. Diane Von Furstenberg’s words have become a quiet mantra in my mind: You’re not pretty like her. You’re pretty like you.

So the next time you’re sitting in a coffee shop, mocha or tea in hand, and admiring the person across the room, pause for a moment. Remember, they might be looking at you too, wishing they had a little of your unique magic.