You're Not Jealous. You're Paying Attention.

Sometimes the feeling we call jealousy is actually information.

It's that time of year again!

The time when those of us in the Southern Hemisphere find ourselves drowning in social media feeds filled with Santorini sunshine, Amalfi coastlines, Riviera chic and Spanish sangria. There is always at least one person you follow doing a European summer.

Possibly several.

And whether they're sipping rosé overlooking Positano, wandering through cobblestone streets in linen or somehow managing to look effortlessly elegant while boarding their sixth flight of the season, you find yourself living slightly vicariously through their Instagram stories.

And you know when something stirs inside you? A very particular feeling...

Maybe it's the coastline. Maybe it's the freedom. Maybe it's the thought of drinking wine on a Tuesday afternoon in the mediterreanean sunshine rather than emptying the dishwasher in your pyjamas while simultaneously trying to remember whether you've paid the school excursion invoice.

You don't dislike her. You don't wish bad things upon her. You're not sitting there seething with resentment. But something has activated. And the interesting question isn't:

"Why am I jealous?"

The interesting question is:

"What exactly am I responding to?"

Because I don't think most people are experiencing jealousy nearly as often as they think they are. I think they're experiencing information. The challenge is figuring out what kind.

Modern culture tends to treat jealousy as something embarrassing. Something we should suppress. Something that makes us petty, insecure or immature. So we either deny it entirely or immediately judge ourselves for feeling it. But what if that feeling isn't a flaw? What if it's a clue? What if it's trying to tell you something important about yourself? Because when we feel pulled toward someone else's life, we aren't always responding to the same thing. Sometimes it's a genuine desire. You really do want more travel. You really do want more freedom. You really do want more adventure. Sometimes another person's life simply illuminates something you've been wanting for a long time but haven't yet acknowledged.

That's not jealousy.

That's recognition.

Other times, what we're responding to is a missing need. The holiday isn't really about the holiday. You're exhausted.

The freedom isn't really about the freedom. You're overwhelmed.

The beautiful afternoon lunch by the sea isn't really about the lunch... You haven't slowed down properly in months.

What we're longing for isn't always the thing itself. Often it's the emotional state we imagine the thing would create. And as I explored in The Missing Feeling No Purchase Can Deliver, that's where many of us become confused.

We think we're chasing the object. The destination. The achievement. The lifestyle.

When often we're chasing the feeling we believe sits behind it.

But I think the most interesting possibility is this:

Sometimes what we call jealousy is actually grief.

Not grief in the dramatic sense. Grief for a life you imagined you might have. Grief for a version of yourself you never explored. Grief for possibilities that quietly disappeared while you were busy building a different life.

You see a woman living overseas and suddenly feel emotional. Not because you want her life. But because part of you remembers that you once wanted something similar.

A version of life that never happened.

That's not jealousy.

That's grief. And those are very different experiences.

Then there's the category I think many modern women underestimate.

Borrowed desire.

The desire that isn't really yours at all. The desire that arrived through repetition.

Through exposure. Through seeing something so many times that it begins to feel familiar. And because it feels familiar, it begins to feel desirable. And because it feels desirable, we assume it belongs to us. When in reality, it may have arrived fully formed from somewhere else. A trend. An influencer. A cultural moment. A social script. A beautifully edited reel accompanied by soft piano music and perfect lighting.

This is exactly what I explored in When Aspirational Content Stops Inspiring And Starts Controlling.

The more often we're exposed to something, the easier it becomes to mistake exposure for desire. Which is why one of the most useful questions I've ever learned to ask myself is:

Would I still want this if I'd never seen anyone else doing it?

The answer isn't always comfortable.

But it's incredibly revealing. And if you've ever struggled to separate your own desires from the aspirations, expectations and lifestyle scripts constantly being fed to you, A Private Reading was created as a starting point for that conversation. Because understanding what you want often begins with recognising how much of it may never have been yours in the first place.

The irony is that most of us assume self-awareness means becoming immune to these feelings.... I don't think that's true.

I still feel the pull. I still see the beautiful homes. The European summers. The luxury hotels. The designer handbags. The Van Cleef bracelets. The carefully curated lives.

And occasionally I still catch myself thinking:

"Oooooh, yes please!"

The difference isn't that the feeling disappeared. The difference is that now there's a second question that follows.

"Wait - What am I actually responding to here?"

That question changes everything.

Because the moment you become curious, you stop reacting automatically. You create space. You stop assuming every feeling requires action. You stop assuming every emotional response means you need to buy something, change something, improve something or become something. Instead, you investigate. And that's where discernment begins. A large part of what inspired The Edit was recognising how often women are encouraged to make decisions from emotional activation rather than conscious awareness. Not because we're irrational. Because we're human. And because modern culture constantly gives us new things to react to. The goal isn't to stop admiring beautiful things. It's not to stop wanting things. It's not to become detached from aspiration. The goal is to understand what the feeling is trying to tell you before you hand it the steering wheel... Because sometimes the feeling is showing you a genuine desire.

Sometimes it's revealing a missing need.

Sometimes it's highlighting an unlived possibility.

Sometimes it's grief.

Sometimes it's simply exposure masquerading as aspiration... And those are very different conversations.

Perhaps the next time someone's life catches your attention, instead of asking:

"Why do I feel jealous?"

Ask:

"What is this feeling trying to show me?"

You may discover the answer has very little to do with them and almost everything to do with you.

Decide well.