I’m going to be completely honest here. Jealousy . . . is a bitch. It sneaks up and convinces you that what you have is crap and what others have is much much better. I’m sure we’re all the victims of jealousy from time to time. I envy knitters who are so speedy that beautiful projects seem to fly off their needles in the time it takes me to get an inch or two done on whatever I’m knitting. I’m jealous of petite pretty women with skinny thighs and thick wavy hair that looks great no matter how humid it is out. I see the green-eyed monster often when I’m attempting to count carbs and fat grams and figure out just how to time my bolus, while others simply dive in and eat whatever looks good. Jealousy loves to hit us and hit us hard.
I’m also ready to admit to some Baby Envy that I’ve been feeling. The D-OC has come down with a case of Baby Fever. It’s a happy thing, but sometimes brings up feelings of “why not me”. I’ve always loved babies and kids. I started baby-sitting for a neighbor when I was barely old enough to be left alone myself. (My parents were right next door and looked in often.) When I cashiered at a grocery store in high school, I had a knack for entertaining cranky toddlers in my line. (I often said I could charm any man, as long as he was less than five years old.) At my former job, a co-worker on maternity leave brought in her preemie when he weighed only five pounds and everyone was afraid to hold him. Everyone except for me, who happily scooped him up and held him until his mom was ready to go home. As he grew over the years and came back in for visits, I was always his favorite. I’m convinced that on some level he remembered that I was the only one who would hold him when he was so tiny and new.
It was always just assumed I’d have a family of my own. But as my friends were finding their Prince Charmings and walking down the aisle, I found myself kissing frog after frog. When I finally met Pete, I was 31 years old. When I put on my white dress and veil and we started our life together, I was already 36. 36 with an A1C I just couldn’t get below 7. In the blink of an eye, I find that next month I’ll be celebrating 42 years on the planet. For me, not having babies doesn’t seem like a conscious choice I made. Rather, it’s just the way my life worked out. So I must admit that I’ve looked on other expectant parents with some envy . . . . and a large dose of jealousy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m completely thrilled for all of the parents-to-be in the D-OC, but it’s been a little bit hard to cheer from the side-lines sometimes.
And then there’s the Roche thing. As LeeAnn mentioned in a recent post, there was quite a bit of Roche backlash last year after they hosted their first Media Summit. Although I didn’t voice it to many, I will admit to a raging case of Roche-Envy at the time. It was difficult to watch so many people who I consider such close friends pack up for an adventure together and not feel left behind. And honestly, it seemed to me that I was the only one stuck with those “why not me” feelings. But then, things blew up. A few pretty nasty posts began to appear. Although they weren't on any blogs I read regularly, seeing them out there upset me. It was like someone was attacking my friends. I thought long and hard about the situation. Our community is vast and filled with so many hugely talented members. There is no way any company could ever hold an event or summit that could include everyone at once. The more I thought about who was participating, the easier it was to see “why not me”. The people invited are a wonderful cross-section of our community. Each and every one has earned their place. They did and will represent us well and I can’t wait to hear what they report back to us this year. And I honestly hope they do report back – without fear of any backlash this time. I hope we’ve all banished the Roche-Envy this year.
The thing about jealous is this - nothing good comes from it. The grass is always greener on the other side, and all that. I’ve decided it’s okay – and probably even natural – to have a little bit of envy over all new babies popping up around the D-OC. But that won’t stop me from ooohing and aaahing over their perfect little faces and being sincerely excited for each new parent. On the other hand, I’ve realized that being jealous of events some are attending is just plain silly. When I look around, I can find plenty of wonderful things in my life that maybe someone else might feel jealous of. But I hope they won’t. Jealousy is called The Green Eyed Monster for a reason – it’s destructive and ugly. Instead, I choose to look at what others have and celebrate with them. With no hard feelings at all.