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Transcript
- There is a specific, hollow ache in your chest when you see a friend’s promotion post on Instagram while you’re still waiting for your own email to bounce back. It feels like betrayal, but it’s just biology trying to tell you that you’re behind. Let’s be honest for a second. We’ve all been there. You’re scrolling through your feed, maybe half-heartedly liking photos of brunch or sunsets, and then you see it. That notification. The one that stops your thumb mid-swipe. A former colleague, someone you used to grab coffee with when you were both struggling to figure out your careers, has just landed the job you wanted. Or maybe it’s not even a job. Maybe it’s a book deal. A gallery opening. A viral moment. Something that signifies success, visibility, and movement forward. And suddenly, your coffee tastes like ash. Your apartment feels too quiet. And this tiny, vicious voice whispers, "Why her? Why not you? What did she do that you didn’t?" It’s ugly. It’s messy. And I want you to know, right now, that you are not a bad person for feeling it. In fact, let’s dig into the velvet of this feeling. Because jealousy isn’t just anger; it’s data. It’s information about what you value, what you desire, and where you feel stuck. But we rarely get to hear the message because we’re too busy beating ourselves up for having the emotion in the first place. We think if we’re truly happy for our friends, we shouldn’t feel a pang. But human hearts aren’t designed for pure, unadulterated cheerleading. They’re designed for connection, comparison, and survival. And sometimes, those things collide in really uncomfortable ways. I grew up thinking that life was a ladder. You start at the bottom, you climb, and eventually, you reach the top. Simple. Linear. If someone else is ahead of you, they must have climbed faster, which means you’re slower, weaker, or somehow less capable. It’s a narrative that’s been fed to us since kindergarten. Get the gold star. Be the fastest runner. Win the race. But art, culture, and real creative lives don’t work like track meets. They work like gardens. Some plants bloom early in the spring, vibrant and loud, demanding attention. Others take years to establish their roots before they push a single leaf above the soil. And some flowers only open at night. When we compare our blooming to someone else’s, we’re ignoring the soil. We don’t see the winter they survived. We don’t see the pruning they endured. We don’t see the specific conditions of their garden—the sunlight, the rain, the help from neighbors—that allowed them to thrive at that exact moment. We only see the flower. And because we only see the result, we assume the path was easy. We assume their success is a reflection of our failure. What’s the texture of this assumption? It’s brittle. It cracks under the slightest pressure of reality. When you realize that their timeline is not a verdict on your potential, something shifts. You stop looking at their height and start looking at your own ground. You remember that you are not racing anyone. You are tending to your own plot of earth. And that takes a kind of patience that feels like boredom until it becomes beauty. Here is where I want to challenge you gently. Instead of pushing the jealousy away, let’s sit with it. Let’s ask it what it wants. Jealousy is often a map. It points directly to the desires we haven’t admitted to ourselves yet. If you’re jealous of a friend who published a novel, it might mean you’re craving the discipline to write your own story. If you’re jealous of a peer who started a business, it might mean you’re tired of working for someone else’s vision. If you’re jealous of someone who seems effortlessly confident, it might mean you’re longing for self-acceptance. Tell me more about that feeling. Is it resentment? Or is it longing? There’s a difference. Resentment says, "You shouldn’t have that." Longing says, "I want that too, and I’m afraid I can’t get it." When you reframe jealousy as longing, it loses its toxic edge. It becomes fuel. It becomes a clarion call to action. It tells you exactly what to focus on next. Instead of spending energy hating on their success, you spend energy building your own. You use that sharp, stinging sensation as a reminder: this matters to you. This is important. So why aren’t you doing something about it? Not everything needs to be turned into productivity. Sometimes, you just need to acknowledge the desire. Say it out loud. "I am jealous. And that’s okay. Because it means I care." Once you name it, it stops controlling you from the shadows. It comes into the light, where you can examine it, understand it, and integrate it into your journey. We live in an era of highlight reels. Social media is not a documentary; it’s a curated museum of everyone’s best moments. When you see someone’s success, you’re seeing the trophy, not the training. You’re seeing the launch party, not the lonely nights of doubt. You’re seeing the cover of the book, not the thirty rejected drafts. This distortion creates a false sense of uniformity. It makes us believe that everyone else is moving forward while we’re standing still. But the truth is, everyone is moving at different speeds, in different directions, carrying different burdens. Think about the last time you compared yourself to someone online. How did it make you feel? Small? Inadequate? Angry? Those feelings are valid responses to a distorted image. But they are not truths. They are reactions to a caricature. When you step away from the screen, you’ll find that most people you admire are also figuring it out. They’re guessing. They’re failing. They’re just as unsure as you are. The only difference is they’ve learned to keep going despite the uncertainty. And so can you. But you can’t learn that lesson by watching them. You have to live your own life. You have to trust your own pace. You have to accept that your path will look different, and that’s not a flaw. It’s a feature. It’s what makes your story yours. So how do we navigate this without losing our empathy or our joy? How do we celebrate others without diminishing ourselves? It starts with separation. Their win is not your loss. Their spotlight does not dim your lamp. Try this exercise: When you feel that spike of jealousy, send a congratulatory message. Not a passive-aggressive one. A genuine one. Even if you have to fake the warmth for five minutes, do it. Send the text. Make the call. Say, "I’m so proud of you. I know how hard you worked for this." Why? Because acting with generosity rewires the brain. It forces you to see the other person as a human being, not a competitor. It breaks the spell of scarcity. It reminds you that there is enough success to go around. That the world is not a zero-sum game. And often, when you reach out, you’ll find a deeper connection. You’ll share stories. You’ll realize that their success doesn’t threaten your own. It inspires it. It shows you what’s possible. It opens doors you didn’t even know existed. This isn’t about being fake. It’s about choosing connection over competition. It’s about recognizing that we are all in this together. We are all trying to create meaning, to build something beautiful, to leave a mark. And when someone else succeeds, they prove that it can be done. They clear the path for you. They show you that the door is open. So walk through it. Not because they pushed you, but because you’re ready. Finally, let’s talk about timing. There is no universal clock. There is no deadline for your life. You are not late. You are not early. You are exactly on time for your own journey. Some people find their stride in their twenties. Others find it in their forties. Some never find it in the traditional sense, and that’s okay too. Success is not a destination. It’s a way of traveling. It’s about alignment. It’s about living in a way that feels true to who you are. If you’re watching someone else succeed and feeling left behind, ask yourself: Am I chasing my dream, or am I chasing theirs? Are you running because you love the sport, or because you hate being last? If it’s the latter, stop. Breathe. Turn around. Look at your own feet. Where are you standing? What do you actually want? Not what looks good on paper. Not what impresses your parents. What sets your soul on fire? Once you know that, the noise fades. The comparisons lose their power. You become focused. You become intentional. You become unstoppable. Not because you’re faster than everyone else, but because you’re finally running your own race. And that is the only victory that matters. So take a deep breath. Trust your timing. And keep going. One step at a time. Thank you for letting me into your space today. I hope you carry this kindness with you as you move through your week. Remember, you are enough, exactly as you are, exactly when you are. Until next time, stay curious, stay tender, and keep creating. Bye for now.