I don’t like to think of myself as being susceptible to envy, but I am, in fact I’m really good at feeling envy. I like to think of myself as being accepting and generous, but it’s there, the green eyed monster. In spanish they call it envidia. Isn’t that nice, almost like a name?
Envidia. It reminds me of an evil character in one of the loathsome Barbie books that found its way onto our bookshelves.
I have often separated my envious side in my mind as being a sort of alter ego. I’m not really envious, I just have moments of being Envidia. Whatever gets you through, right? It turns out that as I travel through 40 I am more ready to see what doesn’t work. I know that I have tendencies in the way I work through things with Sean, whether it’s hashing out household responsibilities or communicating a perceived slight, that are not fair. There are things that I get frustrated with in the workplace that are not going to go away, but time and again I allow them to get me riled up beyond reason.
I can hunker down in ruts that are unproductive and self-defeating in the name of being right, but I’m not right, I’m just wasting time. I get myself backed into a corner and spiteful for things that just don’t matter.
My friend Chibi shared a link to Anne Lamott’s piece on Self-Acceptance, and it made me take a look beyond self-acceptance, because I think my bigger issue has always been failure to accept other people’s choices. I have judged others for what they have done, resented them for their joy. As I really examine it, this was mostly because I have been afraid to do what they have.
Imagine that, resenting someone else for what you don’t have the courage to do. Facing that down and saying it out loud is huge for me. It doesn’t just take away the unproductive fury over what other people do, it refocuses my energy on thinking about what I want and what I am willing to do for myself.
I want to be at peace with how others live, because it means that I am living my own life with less regret and fear. By actively un-clenching what has become a reflexive muscle, I am feeling stronger and happier. When I see headlines calling for “Real Women” or “Real Bodies” I feel a mix of compassion and sadness. We all want to be represented, or at least I think we do. I know that I want to feel heard and seen, and considered, but just because another woman is built differently or has a metabolism that allows her to stay whippet thin doesn’t mean that she isn’t real. Curves, no curves, muscles or sinew, our bodies are real, all of them.
My arms are cut, always have been. People ask me what exercises I do. I don’t really know what to say, I just live my life with these shoulders and arms that look chiseled. Some people have washboard stomachs or perfect hair. It isn’t unreal or less real. I also don’t think wanting those things is awful. We’re human.
I think that in our rush to be the purest, kindest, most forgiving, most accepting, we forget that we’re people. We deny that our personalities and emotions are made like the drawing of a child, little bits go outside of the lines and the colors aren’t always predictable. It’s what makes us wonderful. The irreverent friend who can always say just the thing to break the ice, the unflappable business partner who can ease the most jagged tension, or the friend who welcomes you back after you’ve been bratty. If our lines were perfect, if we were all this sought after “real” I just don’t think we’d have the improbable and imperfectly beautiful jig saw puzzle that we do.
I wish 40 didn’t include break outs or the instinct to carry tweezers with me everywhere. I wish that I didn’t care quite so much about how I look, but I do and that is ok. It’s ok that you want more money or that you are willing to inject a little something in your forehead to help you feel less drawn. It’s ok to not shave or to wear clogs.
We get a life and so long as we aim not to intentionally harm others, the pursuit of joy should be ok. Eat GMOs, decry Common Core, refuse to give up your favorite reality tv show, or use your savings to go to Bali instead of replacing the furnace. You should be able to make those decisions for yourself. It’s ok if we don’t agree. My downfall is being consumed by envy, when the Envidia character comes along and blinds me to another person’s right to walk their own path.
I’m ready to work as hard at being me as I have been at worrying about how other people live.
What do you think? Does envy distract you from joy?
Tagged: #thrive, acceptance, body, Confidence, forgiveness
I feel envy too. And hate it. Powerful.Honest.Beautiful you.
Shaky steps, but they feel good. Thanks, friend.
I feel envy more than I’d like to admit, and most often it’s of people who are making choices that I was too scared to make, or simply people who made different choices than I did. Sometimes I wish I could have a do-over to go back and be braver, or live differently, but then I look at my life, and it may not be perfect, but it is filled with love and laughter and friendship and that’s enough most days.
Recently a girlfriend was talking about a friend of hers that had committed suicide. In her eyes he had the perfect life — a successful career as a doctor, married with two beautiful children, good looking, etc. — so when she heard the news she thought it couldn’t be him. I was so surprised that at 40+ she still hadn’t come to the terms with the fact that most people with outwardly perfect lives have their own struggles with whatever demons they’re fighting; there is no such thing as a perfect life — we’re all human. I was sad for her to be learning that lesson now, but glad she’s learning it.
Thanks for the beautiful post — it made me think which is never a bad thing.
Oh, thank you for being here to listen.
Yes envy is totally normal in small doses. I try to remember to not compare other people’s outsides with my insides. I know too well how easy it is to hide it all behind the outsides. Great piece.
“hide it all behind the outsides” indeed. Thanks, Wendy. We’re all just doing our best, might as well be nice while we’re at it, right?
From time to time, yes, I feel it, though, as you say, less as I get older. I try to look at the envy and see what it is in myself that I either don’t like or want more of – in fact I try to do that with everything I react to in others, frankly. I think you’re right that we ought to embrace ourselves as people, full of flaws and imperfections but also so, so rich and unimaginably multi-faceted. xox
It’s a powerful thing to understand the truth in, “that’s about them” and also when sometimes the them is us, no?
I work by reminding myself to be just happy. Because my weak spot, is how much more people are able to give their children, than we can. I hate even saying that… but I see neighbors and friends taking their children to Europe and Hawaii and buying them new cars at 16 yrs old… and I see how we can’t. Or haven’t figured out why. And I blame myself. And then I am on the verge of tears about it all. Why can’t I have more money, make more money, come from money. Then I have to slap myself hard on the arm and say “BE HAPPY.” JUST BE HAPPY. Work, work, every day… so much work with myself. ( LOVE KNOWING YOU)
I do so cherish you, Alexandra. I know how very hard you do work to focus on the good, to lift it up and to celebrate it. I admire that about you and am so glad to have you close because of it. It, you, make the world a better place, truly. Your sons are proof of that. xo
This is a beautiful and wise piece – one I will read again and again.
Yes I feel envy. Mostly over other people’s bodies. Envy is sad isn’t it?
I think the core of what’s sad is our unwillingness/inability to see our own light.
I feel envy when I go to try on clothes and cannot pull off what others can. I know in my mind and heart that no one’s life is perfect and that I have a healthy, strong body. But trying on new clothes tests that knowledge every time and requires constant internal reminders.
We are all just wonderful works in progress, aren’t we?
Shannon I am with you on this – I have long perferred comfort over high fashion, and for whatever reason I feel I can often not “pull off” the trends of the year. So I stick to tried and true, and classic – in my mind that is better than trying (and god forbid) failing and looking ridiculous.
Truth is I don’t even know what the trends really are until they’ve passed 😉
Envy absolutely distracts from joy.
It is so easy to allow the comparisons into our hearts and then they work their way into our self-view. I find it helpful to really focus on the things that make me happy about myself. Just as you note your arms and shoulders, I note my eye color and my curves.
It really is true what my grammy said so often to me. “Focus on the good, Sara.”
Hmmm, interesting your source of envy (choices of others, I think, right?). For me, envy always seems to have a root cause in my own self-doubt and sense of failure. That is, I am envious of others when they have something I want, and I already feel like I’m doing the same exact things to get there myself too. Or maybe we’re talking about the same thing, more or less. Either way, when it hits, it hits hard for me (I’m in a big thorny patch of it myself this past month or so), and it’s awful, if not immobilizing. Trying to claw my way out is difficult, but ultimately necessary, I know. Always lots to think about when I read your posts, thank you.
Envy does distract from joy, but we are human after all. I think seeking joy, is similar to seeking happiness in that we will lose the ability to be happy and joyful if we are always trying, or if we are always asking ourselves, “what can I do to be happy”. I recently read this article http://markmanson.net/stop-trying-to-be-happy which has it’s moments where it tends a bit sarcastic but I have long felt this about joy or happiness – people who are always being over the top joyous or happy, are likely to be the saddest of all. It’s hard to articulate. I am envious of others, of course, but my envy comes less from tangible things and more from feelings of “wow that person seems so content/grounded/at peace.” I learned a long time ago that I cannot compare the outside of someone else’s life to the inside of my life — but I still catch myself doing it.
“I cannot compare the outside of someone else’s life to the inside of my life…”
I need to write that down. Thank you.