Like every woman out there, I was raised surrounded by a million things crafted almost entirely to make me feel insecure and petty towards those that identify as female. It’s true what they say, women don’t dress to attract men, they dress to make other women envious of their style and appearance. It’s not about the dudes in our lives, they barely notice us anyway. We want to look good for other women. We want to be smart for other women. We want to be funny for other women so that they will love us and want to be us. We are taught that we should be making people jealous of us.
But, luckily, I was also raised with a mom that didn’t really dig that way of life all that much. She was more about supporting her lady friends so they could be successful in their own way and on their own terms. I was also incredibly lucky that I had some pretty amazing female friends, from a very young age, that cared more about building lifelong partnerships with their stalwart pals than developing overly romantic relationships. Sure, there have been plenty of times when I wished I was as cute as so and so or when I wished I could sing or act like this other person. I’ve absolutely had a crush on someone that a friend was dating and wished it was me instead – for like a minute. Turns out, I don’t actually want to be with someone that wants to be with someone else, that’s not my bag. If they’re not interested in me, I lose interest in them pretty damn quickly.
All of this is basically the longest possible way to say that, while I might get flashes of green on the rare occasion, I don’t really suffer much in the way of jealousy. While I might, in my most secret of places, enjoy it in a drama, I much prefer support, communication, and understanding both on-screen and off. Jealousy is a real and natural emotion that should be expressed, discussed, and resolved before it turns into mistrust and anger. We don’t have time for that kind of gross persistent feeling in the real world. We have dishes to do, a job to finish in hopefully 40-50 hours a week, posts to write, fifth-grade science to finish, and a show we are dying to wrap up before the next one starts airing.
But I do admit, it might be nice to have someone write a song about being a little jelly cause I’m with someone else. I mean, it’s a little teenage romantic and I’m not entirely above that. Not really. I wouldn’t mind just a tiny heart ache so long as it doesn’t turn gross.