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Jealousy and envy, though widespread, are often harmful and unproductive emotions. For years, I allowed these toxic feelings to consume me. Here’s the story of how I took charge and overcame them.
Understanding Jealousy and Envy: A Personal Exploration
Admitting these flaws isn’t easy, especially to a vast audience, but I’ve realized that confronting your weaknesses is the only way to move beyond them. Whether it’s due to “middle child syndrome” or my hidden competitive nature, jealousy—fearing someone might take what’s yours—and envy—resenting others for having what you lack—have always been second nature to me.
My first vivid recollection of these unpleasant emotions dates back to a Christmas when I was around nine. My younger brother gifted my older sister one of his prized Transformers toys—likely Ratchet, the ambulance with red crosses and a gun station when transformed into a robot. All I received was a simple card, which triggered an outburst. I hurled the toy at the wall, tore the card, stormed upstairs, and sobbed into my pillow. (Yes, these emotions are far from pretty.)
As I grew older, these feelings resurfaced in various situations: when a boyfriend seemed more engaged with a female friend, when a colleague received praise for work I was equally skilled at, or when others advanced in life while I felt stagnant.
It’s akin to the reverse of schadenfreude but equally trivial: rather than finding joy in others’ failures, I felt anguish over their achievements. Underlying this was a sense of being shortchanged, a belief in the unfairness of it all, and, at times, a feeling of inadequacy.
From Jealousy to Generosity: My Transformative Journey
My turning point wasn’t a dramatic, cinematic moment but a slow, unintentional process. Honestly, I was unaware of the damage these emotions inflicted on me and my relationships, nor did I fully grasp their presence.
Over the past decade, several changes have helped me adopt a healthier outlook on life:
I began paying closer attention to my emotions and thoughts
Jealousy and envy are instinctive reactions, but they can be managed if caught early. My journey toward self-awareness began when I took up yoga a few years ago, thanks to an excellent class at my gym. The consistent practice not only improved my physical health—enhancing sleep, confidence, and overall well-being—but also served as a form of mindfulness training. I started identifying my negative emotions and distancing myself from them. (This included acknowledging feelings like jealousy, nervousness, and more. I believe this approach could also help those struggling with other negative emotions, such as anger.)
I discovered the distinction between competition and comparisons
The saying “comparisons are odious,” attributed to various renowned authors, highlights how comparing people is distasteful. Jealousy and envy thrive on such comparisons, as if life were a ledger where you measure yourself against others to avoid being at a disadvantage. Competition, however, can be constructive—provided it’s approached with a healthy mindset. My high school English teacher often repeated, “Comparisons are odious,” but it wasn’t until I stopped comparing myself to others and focused on healthy competition that I truly understood its meaning.
I began embracing gratitude and joy
Harold Coffin once said, “Envy is the art of counting the other fellow’s blessings instead of your own.” In my younger years, I would count my blessings, but they often left me feeling guilty rather than fortunate. I felt undeserving of the privileges I was born into, as if I hadn’t earned them. Now, nearly every morning, I spend about ten minutes practicing gratitude before getting out of bed. This habit began after my daughter’s birth, as she was a dream realized—finally, I felt my luck was justified, not just a fluke to feel guilty about. This practice has made me more generous, not only with my time but also with my emotional energy. I’ve started celebrating others’ successes. Previously, I might think, “That’s a great article,” but wouldn’t share it with the author. Now, I understand that offering genuine praise or even clicking “like” costs me nothing. (After all, “silent gratitude isn’t much use to anyone.”)
I realized praise isn’t a limited commodity
I used to feel resentful when my parents gave more attention to my siblings (being a middle child isn’t easy). But now I understand that their love for others doesn’t diminish their love for me. Love, appreciation, and positive feelings aren’t rationed like scarce resources. I grasped this while explaining to my daughter the idea of having a sibling, though—don’t judge me—I also learned it from an episode of Full House, where Bob Saget compared his love to an endless supply of water, with his children as teacups overflowing with it. It just took me time to fully internalize that lesson.
