Chains of Jealousy
Sometimes I could kick myself for saying things like “I try to live authentically” because I can be so inauthentic it makes me sick when I think about it sometimes.
But in the interest of moving toward my goal of authenticity — even though I am nowhere near there yet — I think you need to know this about me:
I am an incredibly jealous person.
You might even be able to use the word insecure interchangeably here.
I have known this about myself for a long time. I am not sure when I first noticed it, but I do remember the first time I realized how much jealousy had seeped into my actions and how much it stopped me from living fully.
When I was a young adult, I gained a significant amount of weight. I bypassed the freshman 15 by a long shot. I wasn’t partying or anything. I was just eating a lot.
And honestly? As I sit here typing this, I am vividly remembering all the foods that contributed to the weight gain and practically drooling at the thought. I may have gained weight, but I ate some GOOD food that I do not regret eating at all. O’Charley’s rolls, Steak ‘n Shake chili and fries, cinnamon rolls, frozen pizza…there was no color on my plate. Just sheer goodness.
And water? What was that? Coke has water in it, right?
Ahhhh, to be young and free.
But as I gained weight, my jealousy began to come out more and more.
It was most obvious at family functions.
I have two beautiful sisters. And my brothers have always had beautiful girlfriends. Next to them, I felt like the ugly duckling.
I found myself avoiding being around them because I was so jealous of their beauty.
This was around the same time as my depression. My bathroom mirror became a confessional of sorts. Except I was not confessing anything. I was speaking hatred over myself.
I would stand there and tell myself how ugly I was. I would literally go into my bathroom and spew hateful comments at my own reflection.
A couple of my friends caught wind of this and it was absolutely not okay with them. They came over and painted my mirror with the words “You are beautiful” in what may still be one of the most meaningful gestures anyone has ever done for me.
(Kathleen — I know you read these because you are THAT friend. Thank you for what you did. You have been saving me for over 20 years. Your friendship is one of the greatest gifts of my life. You see me. You know me. You know what I do not say. You have never settled for just listening — you jump into action and save me from myself. I love you.)
Turns out, what I did in the mirror followed me into the world every day.
Everyone was better than me. Smarter than me. Prettier than me. More successful than me. Everyone had it together except me.
And nowhere was that more obvious to me than when I was around my very attractive family and their significant others…of which I had none.
But one day, I noticed something:
If I spoke to the jealousy in me, it loosened its grip a little.
So when I would sit across from one of my brother’s girlfriends — someone I was insanely intimidated by — I would just say, “I think you’re so beautiful.”
And her face would light up.
Because one thing I know now is this:
None of us get enough encouragement.
I assumed these gorgeous women knew how beautiful they were. I assumed they were told constantly. Yet their reactions when I complimented them said otherwise.
And oddly enough, speaking the compliment out loud released me from the chains of jealousy a little too.
So now, when I see something in someone else that I am jealous of — whether it is their looks, their car, their home, their marriage, their job — I try to tell them.
And over the years, it has become second nature to me.
I love complimenting people not only because I think we all desperately need encouragement from time to time, but because of what it releases in me too.
But jealousy is still a very real issue for me.
It is alive and it grows.
I notice it changing shape as I get older too.
I am jealous of the young, the old, and people my own age.
Heck, I am jealous of dogs.
What do they do all day besides get rubs, be adorable, and contribute absolutely nothing to society?
All that to say, I was having a very real conversation with a friend the other day about how jealous I am of her and another friend’s weight loss and the attention they receive because of it.
(We listen and we do not judge here, okay?)
She was shocked when I admitted it.
And honestly, I am thankful for that. Apparently I present far less jealous than I actually am.
But my issue has never really been how I present.
It is my heart.
And my heart is still jealous.
Which means part of me is still chained.
It means there are still places where I do not fully believe what God says about me. Because if I truly believed I was loved, chosen, secure, and enough…someone else shining would not feel like evidence that I am losing.
But jealousy makes life feel like a competition.
Like there is only so much beauty, success, love, attention, purpose, or belonging to go around.
And every time someone else wins, I lose.
Except that is not how God operates.
We were never meant to live like individual competitors trying to outrun one another to worthiness. We were meant to function like a body. A team. Different gifts. Different strengths. Different stories.
Your beauty does not subtract from mine.
Your success does not diminish my value.
Your calling does not cancel out my own.
And maybe authenticity is not arriving at a place where jealousy never appears again.
Maybe authenticity is dragging it into the light instead of pretending it is not there.
Because chains hidden in darkness tighten.
But chains exposed to light begin to break.
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