Green eyed monster
A little ditty to jealousy and its friend envy
For the last 10 days or so, every morning on the drive to school my daughter insists on listening to the song she's all i wanna be by Tate McRae. Some mornings, if we hit the red lights, she plays it twice.
For those unfamiliar, the lyrics include ones like this:
You want the girl with the small waist
And the perfect smile
Someone who’s out every weekday
In her dad’s new car
You tell me I shouldn’t stress out
Say, “It’s not that hard”
But I just got a feeling
This will leave an ugly scarIf you say, “She’s nothing to worry about”
Then why’d you close your eyes when you said it out loud?Stupid boy making me so sad
Didn’t think you could change this fast
She’s got everything that I don’t have
How could I ever compete with that?
I know you’ll go and change your mind
You wake up and get bored with mine
She’s got everything that I don’t have
And she’s all I wanna be, all I wanna be so bad, so bad
My daughter is twelve and in the throes of 6th grade where all the drama gets dragged out and kicked up. I’ve been sharing stories with her about the hurts my friends and I inflicted on each other back in 1990. My attempt to sympathize and tell her I understand. That I remember 6th grade.
Except the girls of the 90s only had to compete with each other from 9-3 at school. You got home from school and the noise went away. A safety zone without the phone.
On the third consecutive day of playing this song, I casually asked her why she likes it so much. Shoulders shrugged. Her eyes did not turn to meet mine. They stayed gazing out the window.
I then asked if she knew the difference between jealousy and envy. I’m sure you can predict the engagement I got from her on that one. It’s funny how I think I can get more than a grunt from her in the morning. Yet I keep trying.
I keep trying because I think she hears it all. Even when she presents as disinterested. So, I kept going with my monologue.
I basically told her that envy is when you want something someone else has. Jealousy is when you are afraid of losing something you already have.
The examples I lobbed her way: A friend makes the “A” team after a basketball try out. Envy says I want to be that good. It’s about wanting the thing, not about losing anything.
A best friend starts hanging out with someone new, jealousy sounds like, what if she likes her more than me? It’s about protecting a relationship or attention you already have.
I then asked, “So do you think this song is about jealousy or envy?” She said, “I don’t know, both?” Then with the annoyance that only a 12-year-old can convey, she turned the volume all the way down. Her way of saying, end of discussion, mom.
The car ride home, by myself, I left the volume down and, in the silence, visited the 12-year-old still inside me. Because she ping pongs her way through both jealousy and envy often, even still.
The neighbors who have the perfectly manicured lawn while mine is stained by dog urine and bunnies that insist on leaving pathways of poop pellets.
Noticing women who seem comfortable in their skin speak up easily or set boundaries and wishing for that same self-assurance.
Catching up with a friend over dinner recently. She’s the one whom I used to run races with as we boldly entered our 40s. She tells me she’s back at it and will be running a half-marathon this spring. I tell her she’s a badass all while feeling that zing of a sting inside that reminds me, I wish I still had that stamina and discipline.
Seeing my social circle shrink now that I am sober. Less invitations to join others because the assumption is she can’t do that anymore. Wondering if my friends miss my company.
Scrolling through Substack, I see writers blow up. Subscriber numbers swell, all while mine stays relatively stagnant. I want that. I wish I could be that visible.
What I want to tell Tate is the same thing I want my daughter to know. This never goes away. These feelings don’t disappear as we get older. We just get better at understanding them, naming them, and using them as signals. We can use them like little arrows pointing toward what matters.
My current day jealousy and envy are reminding me that I care about my friends. I care about my body and my health. I love where I live and want it to look nice. I am passionate about writing, and I want others to like what I write. What’s wrong with admitting this? Nothing. So, how about I consider jealousy and envy friends? Visitors reminding me of what matters.
What if we didn’t turn the volume down when that is the song in our head? What if, like my daughter, we insist on listening to it over and over until we hear it in a different melody?
She’s got everything that I don’t have ……
How could I ever compete with that?
Aren’t we only ever competing with ourselves? Jealousy and envy exaggerate the gap between who you are today and who you’re becoming. Maybe if we thank the signal it’s sending, we’ll appreciate it for what it is. A compass.
Envious of poets, I picked up the pen:
Monster Muse
Sometimes the muse feels like a monster
a shadow‑stitched whisper
that prowls the edges of my quiet.
She haunts the dark places,
pressing cold fingers to my ribs,
refusing to leave me alone.
She tempts me toward the corners
I pretend not to see.
“Look,” she urges,
“dare to expose that.”
And I do, trembling,
because truth has teeth
and still I lean in.
We compare and compete,
on repeat,
as if creation were a battlefield
instead of a doorway.
But what if
instead of competition
I lean into composition,
let the words spill out
before they burn holes in me.
What if the monster
was never a threat,
but a torch
asking to be carried
into the dark.
Sprinkling us with April showers of poetry this month. Two poems I loved:
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I’m someone who rarely reads my writing aloud, and I want to practice giving my words a voice off the page. I imagine this call as a gentle space where we can share short pieces of our work, not for critique, but simply to be witnessed. As we get closer to the date, I may send a few prompts to help spark ideas.
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I’d Love to Hear from You:
What kicks up jealousy and envy for you? Does it feel similar to how you experienced it as a kid?
Are you able to see your feelings not as threats but instead as teachers?
Any tips for gaining back control of the music that is played in my car? ;-)
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This is great. How wonderful Allison.
I love this Allison! Thank you!