Jealousy: All the Fun You Think They Had

"The reason we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else's highlight reel."

 I've been thinking a lot lately about dark emotions - the negative emotions that grab hold of us, drag us down, and hold us under until we sink or swim. 

Fear. Jealousy. Self-doubt. Grief. Shame.

Envy and jealousy are hard to talk about. Really hard. Who out there is eager to admit that you're secretly longing for what other people have? That some part of you, big or small, wishes you could be someone else? Someone prettier, stronger, thinner, smarter, happier, someone with a bigger house or a smaller nose with a wonderful marriage and an amazing family? 

We've all been there, done that. But very few of us will open up and talk about what jealousy feels like.  Which is ironic and kind of a shame, since because jealousy is so common, it's one of those emotions that connects us all. 

I've had some major struggles with feelings of envy in my life. It comes, it goes, I hide from it, I fret about it, I address it, I dance around it, and sometimes, when I'm feeling extra courageous, I talk about it.

Several years back, I realized that I was envious of Kim, who is my sister's best friend. Rather than being happy that Brenda had such a strong friendship, I was jealous and intimidated. Bren and Kim would take long walks together and talk about the deep aspects of life, and they shared a bond that I thought should be reserved for sisters, not friends. I felt inadequate - I'm just the younger sister, the wisecracker, the person who takes Brenda shopping for clothes or out to funny movies. I'm not deep. Not special. Not Kim.

Come to find out, Kim had those same feelings of envy toward my own relationship with Brenda. Every time Brenda would tell Kim about something fun that she and I did together, Kim was envious. Turns out there is something about the sister bond that's hard to break and hard to find elsewhere. And the whole time, Kim and I both had a piece of ourselves that wished we were the other person.

Fast forward several years. Kim moves to Sacramento, Brenda moves to San Diego, and I get to spend more time with Kim. The Susan-Kim friendship begins. We share stories. We find out about each other and how we view the other's relationship with Brenda. (Side note: Brenda is a pretty lucky girl to have two girls fighting to be special to her.) And today, I can't imagine ever being envious of such an amazing person as Kim. But I was, for the longest time.

And every once in a while, there are those rare moments where life comes up from behind, smacks you on the head, and snaps you out of envy in a way you never expected. 

I had one of those moments this week. Someone with a seemingly perfect life - i.e. a bunch of things for me to envy - doesn't have it nearly as good as I thought they did. They have struggles I didn't know about, struggles I'd never ask for in a million years.

I'm gonna place a little bit of blame on that crazy social network, Facebook, which allows each of us to show only the side of ourselves that we want others to see. Sitting home alone on a Friday with a basket of laundry? Boring. Don't share that on Facebook. Out with amazing friends at the club, looking hot and having a great time? Post a thousand photos! I'm happy! I have a great life! Look, it's all right here for the world to see on Facebook!

Facebook is a load of crap. It's a load of crap that I've fallen for hook, line and sinker.

Facebook makes it all too easy to assume that what you see is what you get. Don't see bad stuff? Congratulations, you clearly have the perfect life.

How could I fall for that? What you see is hardly ever what you get. Yet I was content to sit back and assume that talking about a great life meant you actually had one.

Which is ironic, because in reality I'm the girl with a pretty great life. It aint perfect and sometimes it's downright messy, but when you get right down to it there's not many people I'd switch places with. I just took four months off work to travel, chill out, and have fun. I have a brand new car that's fully paid for. I don't have any debt. I have a kooky but close family. I've got a few close friends. I've got a pretty amazing fiancee. 

I have the things that most people would kill to have.

There's a million platitudes I could get into (grass isn't always greener, count my blessings, etc. etc.) but they won't get me where I need to be. What gets me where I need to be is this:

I know I'm not perfect. I never will be. I don't want to be. My imperfections are what make me who I am. I'll be real with you if you'll be real with me. I don't want to see your public face, because I'm comfortable with the good and the bad and the messy and everything in between. Seeing your vulnerability is what makes you human and what makes me love you. In return I'll show you my weak side, my fears, along with my compassion and my need to connect with you.  That's the way I want to live my life, and maybe you'll join me in the ride.