In the last few months I've been noticing my skin turning a strange hue of green. And by that, I mean I've been green with envy. Jealousy is NOT an emotion I'm at all comfortable with. And therefore, this isn't really an easy post for me to write, because it's quite frankly rather embarrassing. And I debated about posting this because it makes me seem like kind of an asshole. But then I thought back to the mission of this blog, which is to discuss issues that people in their 20's have to deal with all the time. And this one certainly applies.
So fuck it. I'm jealous of my friends. There. I said it. I'm jealous, I'm a big fat ugly green monster.
Phew.
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| It ain't easy bein' green |
It seems silly to be so ashamed to admit it, I mean everyone sometimes has to feel a pang of jealousy here or there. No matter how awesome your life is, there is someone out there with an awesomer (new word) life. Someone who gets to travel more, or who is farther along in life than you are, or whose significant other is more romantic, or who just has a better pair of boots. Although I like my boots the best. Except for Lily's on How I Met Your Mother. Her boots are more the best. You see? You see how this happens?
But to admit you're jealous is to admit that you have insecurities about certain things, or that you want certain things that you're not sure you're ever going to have. I'm not super familiar with this emotion, because no matter what my life is or isn't, it begins with being mine. When people ask "don't you just want to be her?" or say "I'd trade places with her in a second," I am usually honestly not interested in that idea. (In fact, I've declined several offers to switch places with Jennifer Aniston because I don't need no Jolie makin' me look a fool).
Reason being? It's not because I think my life is the most amazing life on earth, but in general, day-to-day, I'm happy more than I'm sad, I've set my life up to run how I want it to run (for the most part), and there's always that old saying, "If you threw everyone's problems in a pile, you'd take your own back." So I don't want to monkey around in karma and fate and all that bidness.
I know fundamentally that there is enough success/love/money/friendship/happiness to go around, and yet I've had to spend more time than I care to admit coaching myself through feelings of jealousy and [gasp, I hate to even say this] resentment.
I trace this back to when I left my full-time job as a copywriter. The stress of it was killing me, and in the end I had to choose happiness and sanity over money. So I knew what I was doing. I knew it would potentially be awhile before I was making what I made as a copywriter (not that I got paid SO much, just because it was higher than my last job), but I figured if I stayed positive, the right thing would come my way.
Then I didn't get a job that I desperately wanted. And really thought I would get.
So I returned to the job I had for three years, but only slightly above part-time. As happy and grateful as I was to get my old job back, be able to at least pay my bills, and be back at a job where I felt comfortable and had cultivated great friendships, I felt like a failure about this. It felt like coming back with my tail between my legs. It felt like I let stress defeat me. It felt like everyone thought I was weak.
I got over that feeling after several months, honestly because I just knew I needed to let it go. When I have those pangs of "you're a failure," I turn around and say to myself, "shut the fuck up. You're happier now, so if you have to 'fail' to be happy, then so be it."
Still.
One of my best friends is getting married this summer. Another just bought a house that is awesome and in an adorable neighborhood and completely perfect for her and her husband. Another just bought a house that is like so frickin' grown up and impressive and above what people our age can normally afford that I'm convinced anyone would be jealous.
And I? I'm going to Maine for the first time this summer? I'm getting ready to query my first novel, meaning I'm setting myself up for daily rejection emails that will each, in their own special way, chip away at my self confidence. I have no hopes at working full-time and struggle daily over whether I should aggressively pursue that - after all, when would I have time to secure all those rejection emails?
Now I want to make two things VERY clear. 1) I am HAPPY for my friends. My friends are some of the most amazing people ON. THIS. PLANET. And they have worked VERY hard to get to where they are today. I don't begrudge them these awesome things. And again, I do tell myself that there is enough success to go around. 2) I don't sit around ALL DAY LONG, wishing I had what they had. I know that I have many amazing things in my life - like them, like my amazing boyfriend who will be majorly successful in his field, like my pretty sweet apartment. I recognize that I'm not exactly living in a van down by the river.
But once in awhile, when I've been looking at Facebook too long, when I'm freaking out about my book and/or writing career, when I'm feeling a little depressed anyway and then take a tour of my friend's new home, I feel a little sorry for myself. I feel a little green. I even wallow in it for a minute or two.
I'm human.
So I returned to the job I had for three years, but only slightly above part-time. As happy and grateful as I was to get my old job back, be able to at least pay my bills, and be back at a job where I felt comfortable and had cultivated great friendships, I felt like a failure about this. It felt like coming back with my tail between my legs. It felt like I let stress defeat me. It felt like everyone thought I was weak.
I got over that feeling after several months, honestly because I just knew I needed to let it go. When I have those pangs of "you're a failure," I turn around and say to myself, "shut the fuck up. You're happier now, so if you have to 'fail' to be happy, then so be it."
Still.
One of my best friends is getting married this summer. Another just bought a house that is awesome and in an adorable neighborhood and completely perfect for her and her husband. Another just bought a house that is like so frickin' grown up and impressive and above what people our age can normally afford that I'm convinced anyone would be jealous.
And I? I'm going to Maine for the first time this summer? I'm getting ready to query my first novel, meaning I'm setting myself up for daily rejection emails that will each, in their own special way, chip away at my self confidence. I have no hopes at working full-time and struggle daily over whether I should aggressively pursue that - after all, when would I have time to secure all those rejection emails?
Now I want to make two things VERY clear. 1) I am HAPPY for my friends. My friends are some of the most amazing people ON. THIS. PLANET. And they have worked VERY hard to get to where they are today. I don't begrudge them these awesome things. And again, I do tell myself that there is enough success to go around. 2) I don't sit around ALL DAY LONG, wishing I had what they had. I know that I have many amazing things in my life - like them, like my amazing boyfriend who will be majorly successful in his field, like my pretty sweet apartment. I recognize that I'm not exactly living in a van down by the river.
But once in awhile, when I've been looking at Facebook too long, when I'm freaking out about my book and/or writing career, when I'm feeling a little depressed anyway and then take a tour of my friend's new home, I feel a little sorry for myself. I feel a little green. I even wallow in it for a minute or two.
I'm human.