I never thought I would actually admit this publicly. It is embarrassing and I worry that people I actually like will hold it against me. I mean, really, it makes me sound so petty and unevolved. Kinda humiliating actually. But you know me…it is hard to keep my mouth shut when a thought makes its way into my thick skull.
Anyway…here goes it…
I am jealous of you.
(long belly sigh of relief with a touch of apprehension)
Yea, You. On Facebook. You make me feel those envious feelings with which I have always struggled.
Your constant happiness furrows my forehead. Your successes lead me down the road of inferiority. It’s all your fault that l feel poopy. And I just thought you should know.
Okay, fine. Maybe it’s not ALL your fault. But still…sometimes I do find myself in Poopyville covered in self-pity and resentment after reading my timeline.
I suck, don’t I? I mean, shouldn’t I feel happy for you? Shouldn’t I live a better life knowing that your’s is impeccable and graceful? And it’s not that I want bad things to happen to you. I would, honestly, rather you be content and pleased with your life. Really. Truly.
It’s just that I want that shiny happy life too.
Your kids are flawless. They always get good grades and special admiration from their teachers. I can see from your shared quotes that they say things far beyond their years and are clearly genius and way smarter than my kids. Your children clean their rooms, make you breakfast and never ever drive you to madness.
Your marriage reflects one of a romance novel. You two always post sweet messages to one another. All of your pictures are kissy kissy. And you never, ever fight. You’ve never even considered couple’s therapy; you’d never need it. In fact, you’re probably teaching your own “How to Have the Perfect Marriage” seminar. You don’t understand how anyone could ever cheat. Divorce is not in your vocabulary and your in-laws love you more than your own family – which is quite the feat since your family thinks you shit gold.
You don’t watch TV. You don’t have time for such drivel. And you have read every book on Oprah’s list and know the classics by heart.
You spend your vacations snorkeling in Hawaii and hiking in Costa Rica. And every holiday you serve food to the homeless.
You run 12 miles a day, when you have a cold. You enter every marathon and 5k within a 20 mile radius. And you’ve lost 8 pounds since Monday. You call yourself “bad” if you add cheese to your quinoa. And you only eat cake on your birthday. You buy all organic and haven’t had meat in 6 years.
You have 3495 friends. They all know you and like everything you post. You’re at a different party every weekend and have a girl’s night out once a week. You’re friends with all of your exes and they fawn over every picture you post. You never have to be alone except when you meditate, which you do 20 minutes each day.
You are a yoga master and can bend in the most unnatural positions. You look great in a bikini after 4 kids and 2 C-sections. Your boobs have never sagged because of your stellar genetics. And you function wonderfully on only 5 hours of sleep. You are wrinkle free and swear it is because you wear sunscreen even in the dark.
You have three degrees, work 10 hours a day and volunteer for every field trip.
You never yell or scream or swear. You live in a place of peace and positivity. You don’t complain or insult. Your self-confidence is genuine and unwavering. You are lovely in every way and when you die, the world will suddenly tilt to one side.
I want to be you. I have no excuses. I have to create the change. And perhaps I will do just that. Right after this 4th fun sized Snickers and episode of Real Housewives.