Envy is an uncomfortable thing to admit to. Owning up to being jealous of someone you work with is more shocking than turning up in the office and shouting “I think I forgot my deodorant! Who wants to smell my armpits?” Jealousy, especially at work, is usually dismissed as the typical territory of the “bitchy” woman. When did you last hear a male colleague being told they were “just jealous” when they complained about a coworker?
If we confess to jealousy, it’s seen as a sign of weakness, and weakness must be hidden at work. This is why I was taken aback to read an astonishingly honest letter, written by someone who is desperately jealous of everyone who works for Buzzfeed.
Jealousy can be helpful, but when we deprive it of oxygen and don’t talk about the way it makes us feel, it can mutate into something terrifying. It’s especially hard if, like the writer, some of the sources of your envy aren’t particularly noble. We’ve been through a tough period, economically, and many of us feel like we’re lucky to have a job at all. So it seems spoiled to feel an irrational, uncontrollable swelling of envy when your colleague and not you, gets a company car or an international travel opportunity.
As the writer admits “Think of all the sycophants and all the Twitter followers and all the swag and every other perk of working there. Think about how amazing it must be.”
Feeling entitled to a blue tick isn’t quite the same as wanting to be Hemingway, but when those feelings take hold, you’re Melville’s Ishmael, and all you can think about is your white whale. I’m ashamed of this, but when I worked as a staffer on a magazine, I was cripplingly envious of the fashion and beauty desk who brought in a lot of advertising and as a result, were showered with flowers, jewellery and the odd trip to Paris to make a custom blended perfume. The one day I was sent a gift from a PR, it was a promotional packet of Fisherman’s Friend.
However, it’s much harder to deal with envy when you’re jealous of someone’s deserved success. I watched my opposite number at a rival publisher move from one brilliant new job to another. Every time I saw her byline, I was filled with angry bile. I felt entitled to her success, yet frightened by it. I was obsessed with how well she was doing and thought it was proof of my own failure. Because I felt so ashamed of my feelings, it took me ages to address them - and realise that the course she was charting could only help and inspire me. If I wanted what she had so badly, I could look at her and learn from her, instead of becoming increasingly bitter.
I never got any of the jobs I applied for that I hoped would make me “equal” to my nemesis - so I went freelance and, quite by accident, became so excited about my own work that I didn’t have time to be jealous of anyone else’s. I’ve now worked with my former rival and she couldn’t be nicer, or more talented. I’m genuinely thrilled that she’s doing so well, and she’s a great inspiration to women in the industry.
If I feel the jealousy twinge, I try to voice it and process it before it overwhelms me. Envy is a great tool to have in your workbox if you manage it properly, as it forces you to answer questions about what you want and whether you’re happy. But in order to own it, you have to own up to it - otherwise, it might ruin your life.
