But I have learned that things are rarely as they seem. All too often, those whom I have envied have had struggles I knew nothing about, and what seemed such a blessing was even a curse.
This was brought home to me in stunning fashion about ten years ago. One of the most difficult things I had to face after I separated from my ex-husband was going back to church. I didn't fear being judged, as some people do. There are many divorced people in the world, and I was just another statistic, after all. No, instead it was envy that was keeping me home, away from the very people I most needed to uplift me.
There was one person, in particular, whom I was actively avoiding. Her husband was attentive, her children were well adjusted, they were successful, lived in a beautiful home, did everything together. In short, her life was everything mine was not (and never had been,) and I was truly envious of her. I liked her very much, she is a great person, and normally I enjoyed spending time with her. I just didn't want to hear about another weekend where they had spent quality time together as a family, doing what I thought my family should have been doing, and now never would.
Even then, I didn't feel good about being so envious. I knew it was wrong, and I knew I was in the wrong to feel as I did, but I couldn't help myself. From the outside looking in, I felt like I had missed the boat, and it hurt.
It was a mighty battle with myself, but ultimately, my daughter had to go to confirmation, and I was needed in the kitchen to help. So eventually I had to face the reality and go back to my life.
The first night back, I walked slowly down the stairs to the kitchen, bracing myself for the happy, go lucky person I knew would be waiting there to do her share. I was surprised, (and a little thankful, if I am perfectly honest,) to see she wasn't standing in her usual place. I wondered where she was, because I had arrived a little late, and she is always prompt, but I was just grateful I had been able to slide through one more evening without feeling the additional strain of envy.
And then her mother came with the kids.
I won't go into details, but it turned out her life wasn't what I thought at all. My feelings of envy turned to shame as I realized how wrong I had been, and my sorrow for her far exceeded the envy over what I had falsely assumed to be her truth. (She is happy and I think in a great place now.)
I have had moments of envy since then, of course. I am human, and I am fallible, and I occasionally succumb to the wish that I was at the beach, or I had more money in my bank account, or I had something else that would make my life that little bit better than it is. But I have never again struggled with the envy that I felt for someone else's life, because I have seen, first hand, that my imaginings are not necessarily their realities.
Today, I am grateful for my lesson in envy, because it has given me the perspective to understand that the superficial life we see is not always the truth, and that the life I have been given is the right one for me.
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