When I was in high school, there was a clear female social hierarchy, and I was not anywhere near the tier I wanted to be. The young women in the uppermost echelon were mostly pretty, wealthy, and/or athletic (which in those days, meant they were cheerleaders). And for whatever reason, they all had a remarkable ability to attract members of the opposite sex.
To say I was desperate to attain that social status is perhaps an over-statement – but not by much. It would have facilitated Friday-night social events (if I could have ditched my job at the Golden Arches), benefitted lunchroom interactions, improved my self-esteem, and enhanced the possibility that the football quarterback would look my way. Heck, I would have been content if those girls’ dating castoffs had been thrown my way. What I coveted most was the group members’ indelible self-confidence. I never saw a moment of social doubt, body-image dismay, or worthiness insecurity. I was consumed with jealousy.
Jealousy is the apogee of the human comparison scale, followed by envy, and then, lastly, pure joy. I’ve changed a lot since high school, but I’d be dishonest to say that I regard everyone’s good fortune with absolute pleasure in the absence of insecurity. I can’t help but judge myself, for example, against runners whose abilities eclipse mine, family members’ business success, law partners’ legal intellect, or influential leaders’ charisma.
But in my joyful maturity, I realize I wouldn’t trade my life for anyone else’s. The sorrow I’ve experienced has filled me with compassion, the stress has infused me with resilience, and the disappointments have imbued me with persistence. Don’t get me wrong; I’m still a bit envious of those with financial bounty, athletic abundance, and adorable grandchildren, but I’m not jealous.
I have read that comparison is the killer of joy, but I don’t see it that way. I use the vestiges of envy as motivation to work hard and as a reminder that it stems from lack of self-worth. I forgive myself for feeling envy at others’ good fortune because I understand that I am human, and envy is part of a complex emotional construct. Though I self-judge, I don’t compare myself favorably against anyone else. My life is replete with gratitude and pleasure more than anything else.
I am happy to report that resentment is not part of my emotional equation these days -- well, except for my husband’s ability to sleep through the night without interruption regardless of what else is going on. I’ll never achieve that status, and I’m never getting over it!