She told me angrily, "I'm so JEALOUS of my sister!"

Turns out, her sister had gone away for the weekend - by herself.

No children.

No guilt.

No endlessly organising everybody else.

Just books and naps and coffee and quiet.

And when her sister excitedly told her about it, a huge wave of painful irritation washed through her.

“She’s so selfish!” she spat out.

But then she got very quiet.

And after a while she said,

“Actually… that's not true. She's quite a considerate person. I think I’m just exhausted.”

Oof.

That landed in both of us.

Because the jealousy wasn't really about her sister.

It was about the part of her that was longing for rest so deeply that even seeing someone else have it hurt.

And I think this happens more than we realise.

Sometimes what we call jealousy is actually grief.

Or longing.

Or a deprived part of ourselves pressing its little face against the window saying,

“Please can I also get some of that?”

It doesn't necessarily mean you want someone else’s exact life.

But something about what they have touches something very true in us.

I wonder what would happen if we became just a tiny bit more curious about those moments instead of immediately shaming ourselves for them.

Not indulging them or spiralling into comparison.

But just pausing gently and asking,

“Hm. What is this showing me?”

Because jealousy is not a problem in these moments.

It’s very useful information.

It might be pointing toward a part of you that has gone without something important for a very long time.

Inside The Portal of Permission this month we’ve been having some very tender conversations about longing, dreaming and learning to hear ourselves more honestly again. You’re always welcome to join us there if and when it feels supportive for you.

Click HERE to find out more.

If you loved yourself, how might you view your jealousy or longing now?