I’ve felt my fair share of jealousy — that stabby, sinking feeling which is a confusing mix of anger, fear, and shame. I’ve let jealousy sneak under my skin and make me feel badly about myself. I’ve even let jealousy guide me away from certain friendships or partnerships that I might’ve otherwise deeply enjoyed. Based on these negative experiences with jealousy, I’ve often wondered whether, if given the choice, I’d choose to live a life where I never felt a shred of it. At first, I think I’d jump at the opportunity — but, then, when I think it through just a little more, I realize that a life sans jealousy might not actually be so great.
Living without jealousy, in the end, would be sort of like living without hunger. At first that sounds great, right? It sounds like a life full of such abundance that I’d never have to feel insecure about where my next meal is coming from. I’d never have to feel painful hunger pangs. I’d never have to feel bothered by someone else eyeing my food or wanting a bite. I’d never have to be inconvenienced by the work it takes to make my hunger go away. Instead, I’d be pleasantly satiated at all times, walking through the world thinking about how nice it feels not to be hungry. I’d be happier, right?
Wrong.
I only have to think about it for a little while to realize that, rather than appreciating my lack of hunger, I’d just forget about it. I’d be as unaware of its absence the same way I’m unaware of the lack of pain when I don’t have a headache. What I’d feel and notice more are the effects of its removal. Hunger exists because it motivates us to get up and do something to fix it — without it I wouldn’t notice when my biological needs weren’t being met. I’d wither.
Jealousy is like the hunger of the psyche — it pangs and aches and grumbles when you see something that makes you feel insecure, threatened, or inadequate. Sure, it sounds great to just not experience that discomfort, but it’s exactly that discomfort which alerts you to your desires. It’s like Mel Robbins, a very foxy motivational speaker, says: “it’s impossible to be jealous of something or someone that you don’t truly desire.”
Of course, sometimes jealousy can be trickier to decipher than a straight forward cue like hunger. For example, let’s assume I feel jealous when I see a friend of mine kissing their partner. That pang of jealousy might indicate that I have lusty feelings for my friend, or that I covet the love they share with their partner, or (as is often the case) that I simply crave being the center of attention. If jealousy is a neon sign telling you that you desire something, it’s important to take a beat and figure out where that sign’s arrow is truly pointing.
Then, if you let it, the discomfort of jealousy can motivate you to take the necessary actions to get the things you want — like the pain of hunger fuels us to go out and find food. Personally, I think this is where jealousy has the opportunity to lead you, and your relationship, to greater heights. Jealousy can be a catalyst for for you to fight for the object of your affection in fun ways — you can let it motivate you into being your best, most shiny and charismatic self. It can inspire you to plan a sexy, unconventional date. It can prompt you to take a class or get moving on a goal you’ve been desiring to achieve. It can even, and here’s one of the best benefits, push you to be vulnerable with your partner and speak openly about your sensitivities. I don’t mean that it is okay to use jealousy as an excuse to control your partner’s actions — but that talking about jealousy, without blame, can help you and your partner get to know one another better and offer the reassurances you each need.
In short — jealousy has gotten a bad rap as a negative emotion, one that we should try to shake off and shut down as quickly as possible. In truth, though, jealousy (like all emotions) is neither good nor bad. It’s simply a tool our emotional self uses to communicate with us about our needs, wants, and desires. Think about it: without hunger we would never indulge the joyful, visceral, sensual act of eating or experience that wave of satisfaction that washes over us when we’ve licked our fingers clean — treat your jealousy like hunger, and look for opportunities to have fun satiating it.