The Thing That Can't Be Named

by Marilyn Hilton

During the last session of a writer’s conference a few years ago, one of the leaders asked the attendees what topics we’d like addressed the following year. One brave person piped up. “Jealously,” she said. There was an uncomfortable silence, and then a shifting of seats, a shuffling of feet, muffled coughs. And then nodding of heads.

She had spoken it—the thing we all feel but no one wants to name. Because naming it means admitting we feel it. And admitting we feel it makes us feel ugly and ashamed.

- She signed with my dream agent.

- He signed a three-book contract.

- She won the award I wanted to/deserved to win.

- They <fill in the blank>.

We may be smiling on the outside, but inside the green-eyed monster roars. “I should have gotten that agent/contract/award/five-star review/<fill in the blank>.” “S/he’s not that awesome a writer—I saw a typo on page 11.” So begins the spiral downward. And if we give in to our jealousy, it will destroy our relationships, our spirits, and our careers.

 (Deep breath.) 
My name is Marilyn and once in a while I get jealous. Okay, I admit it. And it makes me feel like the lowest creature on the planet, unworthy and undeserving of the company of other human beings. So, to restore myself to humanity, I’ve figured out a few strategies for controlling the thing that can’t be named:

1. Recognize that jealousy says more about how I view myself than how I view others. I ask what about me and my expectations are causing the feelings, and then try to address those issues.

2. Know that I can feel truly, genuinely happy for another person’s success and neon-green envious at the same time; both can occupy my heart simultaneously.

3. Let myself feel bad for a certain amount of time—one hour, one day—and then the monster no longer gets fed.

4. Write down how I feel specifically—and then delete, burn, or tear it up.

5. Seek out the person I’m envious toward and congratulate him or her genuinely. After all, wouldn’t I want the same in return?

6. Use the other person’s accomplishments to motivate me to work harder—whether that means writing more pages or spending more time each day to write; reading more each day to study the craft; polishing a manuscript one more time until it shines; committing to attending writers’ gatherings more often and stepping out of my shyness to meet more people.

I once watched a TV show in which an opera student sang the aria “O mio babbino caro” (an aria from the opera Gianni Schicchi). She sounded…okay. Then a professional singer sang the same aria, and the difference was astounding. The student then sang the aria again. This time her performance had improved at least 50 percent over the first time, because she had a higher standard to reach for.

7. Write a list of my accomplishments—no matter how small—and keep them in sight.

8. Give myself love. Opportunities to celebrate come few and far between, so let’s take them when we can.

9. Give love freely to others. No one but the artist knows the struggle and heartbreak behind the contract signing, the manuscript writing, the award winning, the publicity. Everyone needs a high-five, a hug, and encouraging words. Every single one.

10. Keep in mind that my gifts are different from everyone else’s, and it’s up to me to use those gifts responsibly and to the fullest. Recognize that although we’re all on the same journey, each one of us has been set on a different path.

How do you cope with jealousy? (Feel free to post your comments anonymously!)