One cause of anxiety and anguish is low self-esteem. When one feels worthless or unremarkable, depression is not far off.

Today, I want to look at a powerful antidote to low self-esteem: humility.

But how can humility protect against low self-esteem? Don't they amount to the same thing?

Let’s look at what humility actually means from a Chassidic perspective.

In this week's Torah portion, Behaalotecha, we are told that “the man Moses was more humble than any person on the face of the earth.”1

According to the standard definition, humility means being aware of one's own limitations and weaknesses, and acting accordingly.

But Chassidism understands the verse to mean something more specific: Moses's humility arose from comparing himself to every single person on the face of the earth.

How do we understand this? Moses confronted Pharaoh unflinchingly, facilitated the ten plagues, led the Jewish people out of slavery, split the sea, received the Torah directly from G‑d, and brought down the manna. How could such a man feel more humble—more aware of his own limitations—than anyone else alive? Didn't his virtues and achievements far outweigh any shortcomings?

Clearly, humility is not the same as an inferiority complex. So what is it?

When one possesses extraordinary gifts, there are two possible responses: 1) “I am greater and more important than others,” or 2) “I was entrusted with something more valuable than others.” The first leads to arrogance, to feeling privileged and distanced from those who seem lesser. The second leads to a profound sense of responsibility—toward one's gifts and toward others. And it leads to humility.

Why humility?

Because if I have gifts and opportunities that others lack, I am expected to produce more than they do. G‑d judges not how much one does, but how much effort one puts into fulfilling one's mission. One who has more capacity is asked to do more. If David donates $1,000 and Daniel donates $100, people praise David more. But if David has a million dollars and Daniel has only a thousand, which of the two deserves greater credit?

Moses felt profound humility before every single person precisely because he knew his gifts far exceeded those of anyone else. That meant more was expected of him than from anyone else—and therefore the effort of any ordinary person was proportionally greater than his. “Besides,” he thought, “who knows whether, given the same gifts, opportunities, and resources as I was given, they might not have achieved even more?”

"Of course I fulfill everything," Moses may have thought. “I heard it directly from G‑d — how could I not? But look at Daniel in Montevideo, 3,332 years after the Torah was given, being faithful to its teachings and performing a single mitzvah … I don't know if I, in his place, with his challenges, could have done what he is doing!”

People tend to compare themselves to others, for better or worse. If they believe they are superior, they feel good; if they think someone else is better, they feel bad. This is a great fallacy. You are not “doing well” simply because you are better off than someone else, nor are you “doing poorly” simply because someone else is better. The only meaningful comparison is to yourself: Am I better today than I was yesterday? Am I performing to my potential? And if I encounter someone who seems inferior to me, rather than looking down on them, I should recognize that perhaps their very constraints make their effort far greater in value than mine.

Every single person excels at something—some through what they have, others through what they manage to achieve despite what they lack. Keeping this in mind helps us respect every person we encounter, without exception—including, perhaps especially, ourselves.

The tool for this week: Become aware of the deepest reason why human life matters and you will realize that every life matters, beyond all differences, and also because of them. From this reflection, you will gain a healthy self-esteem, rooted in genuine humility, which will leave you feeling more empowered.