How Jealousy Can Be A Very Good Thing

Anniki Sommerville - 13 Oct 16

I’ve always been a bit jealous. When I was with my ex-boyfriend, we’d be having a lovely walk and  I’d ruin it by constantly peering into people’s windows and sighing:

‘God look at that house. I’ll never have a house like that.’

‘I’d love a garden. You can see all the way through from their French windows. God I wish I had a garden.’

‘Ooh look at that door knocker, it’s a proper expensive one. I’ll never be able to afford a door knocker like that.’

At the time I was working in ‘Habitat’ part-time whilst studying for a degree. I lived on Bean-feast (dried up beans that were definitely NOT a feast) and instant mash. Working in Habitat was okay but it was difficult if you’re naturally jealous. You’d constantly be confronted by people who had more money and better stuff than you. I spent a lot of time watching people in a stink of envy. They had enormous houses with enormous door knockers and enormous gardens. They didn’t have to stand on their feet and carry garden chairs out to waiting cars (that were super nice). They didn’t eat Bean Feast and then walk to the shop to get the electricity key charged up.

This kind of jealousy wasn’t particularly helpful. We’re not all destined to be millionaires and even if we are, it’s been shown time and time again that money isn’t the source of happiness. It gives you more choices but there are many rich people who are sad. This kind of jealousy is life-sapping. It didn’t help that I’d immersed myself in fashion magazines from an early age (I bought a copy of French Vogue when I was about twelve and then spent all my pocket money buying magazines so I could look at photos of people who were not only wealthy but also exquisite looking.  It’s stupid envying beautiful people because there’s literally nothing you can do about it).

I wasted a lot of time wishing I was someone else.

I’d like to say that I no longer get jealous. I’m older and wiser and I charge down the beach like a sun cream advert.  The truth is I still get MASSIVELY JEALOUS. The only difference is that I’m jealous of different things. Sure I can salivate at a huge kitchen as much as the next person but I’ve accumulated enough to know that fancy door knockers don’t solve problems. A perfect worktop won’t listen to your day. You rarely see people beaming whilst they’re buying a new car.  In fact if you look more closely, you’ll see that people look a bit sad (okay that’s overly dramatic- we all love the odd purchase but you know what I mean).

The people I’m jealous of nowadays are those who are talented and really USE that talent. They’re women like Sharon Horgan, Lena Dunham and Caitlin Moran. They’re women who have found a way of leveraging their talent and are making a living from it.  The difference now is that instead of letting this jealousy fester away like a dried-out lizard in an overheated glass case, I let it inspire me.

Instead of thinking OH SHIT ANOTHER SUCCESSFUL WOMAN. I think THE MORE… THE MORE.

Okay I’m not perfect. Recently I visited a book shop and got into a panic as I saw just how many books were on the shelves and how many of these books seemed to be about the kinds of things I think about writing about. Books about feminism, Scandinavian parenting, feminist parenting, tidying, being messy,  being a Mum, being an untidy, Scandinavian feminist Mum…the list went on. And for a moment I thought CHRIST! There aren’t any ideas left! Stop WITH THE IDEAS AND LEAVE SOME TO ME PLEASE – how will I ever write my very own Scandinavian, feminist, parenting book (and the author of this one is only twenty nine!) Then eventually I took a deep breath. Wasn’t the fact that there were all these books a GOOD THING? Didn’t it mean there was a market for such books? Didn’t it mean that there were women (and men) who were writing and making a living out of it (maybe not a very lucrative living but making money nonetheless)?

So now I try and channel this jealousy. I let it create some positive anxiety in my belly so I can pull myself away from the lure of Amazon Prime and an early night.

I think about all the people tapping away on their laptops whilst their children sleep. I think about them writing a load of rubbish ideas and then hitting on something fertile and brilliant. I see their hands flying over the computer. I see them bored out of their minds with no impetus left. I see them waking in the morning and trying to fit some writing in before the kids wake up again. I imagine the joy of creating something that people want to read. I think about that a lot.

Then I think about the enormous door knocker I will purchase.

Perhaps jealousy isn’t so bad. I start typing.

Anniki Sommerville

I'm Super Editor here at SelfishMother.com and love reading all your fantastic posts and mulling over all the complexities of modern parenting. We have a fantastic and supportive community of writers here and I've learnt just how transformative and therapeutic writing can me. If you've had a bad day then write about it. If you've had a good day- do the same! You'll feel better just airing your thoughts and realising that no one has a master plan. I'm Mum to a daughter who's 3 and my passions are writing, reading and doing yoga (I love saying that but to be honest I'm no yogi).

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