A few weeks after giving birth, low on sleep from waking up multiple times in the night, sitting at the dining room table with a spoonful of muesli in my mouth, I looked across the room to find Flo. He was on the couch with the baby. And as I watched them together, Flo holding him up in the air, I noticed a familiar feeling cropping up.
Jealousy.
I was jealous, not because of a woman he was seeing or because he and I hadn’t been on a date in a while or because he was NOT recovering from a birth like I had to. No, I was jealous of Flo this time because he was holding our baby in his arms, and the baby was smiling at him.
The baby was smiling at Flo. Not at me, but at Flo.
I’d carried that baby around in my body for almost ten months, suffered in the hospital for days, and spent hours and hours a day (and night) feeding him from own body.
Yet today, I didn’t get so much as a smirk. Instead, our baby was smiling at his father.
Of course, I thought. Flo is not sleep deprived or trying to make sense of a birth that didn’t go to plan. He’s full of energy and joy that I can’t drum up. He can be his best self. Of course, the baby would be more drawn to him.
The injustice!
I frowned into my bowl and as I realized what was happening within me, I started to feel ashamed.
I stopped chewing for a moment and took stock. Frustration, anger, jealousy, exhaustion, shame, all of it was in me. I put my spoon back in the bowl of cinnamon soaked oats, closed my eyes, and let myself feel it all. Guilt in my heart, lack of sleep in my neck, sadness in my stomach.
Then I granted myself some grace. Of course, I want my child to smile at me too. Of course, I want some reward for all I’ve done to bring him into existence and keep him alive and well. It’s okay, I told myself. It makes sense.
I never expected to feel jealous of my partner because of his relationship with my son.
I ate a few more bites of my breakfast, and looked over at the scene again. And this time, I saw something different. This time, I saw my baby and partner looking at each other peacefully, almost the exact same scene. But this time, I thought, Two humans that I love are happy together. My family. It’s here. Right here. The one I manifested and worked so hard to finally get. I’m so lucky. And as I thought that, I felt a shimmer of joy pass over my chest before I plunged my spoon into the bowl again.
I never expected to draw this parallel. I never expected to feel jealous of my partner because of his relationship with my son. But it’s happened and it feels eerily similar to how it happens in non-monogamy.
In this scenario though, the “other woman” is Flo. And Flo is my baby. I know, weird, but you get the point.
Jealousy is not unique to non-monogamy, it’s not even unique to romantic relationships.
In both situations (families and polyamorous relationships), we might feel envious or jealous at the image of our loved one with someone else, smiling together, without us being involved. And also, at the same time, we may feel happy for them and happy for the other person they’re with. We might think, “My partner is happy. This other person is happy. What a beautiful scene!”
Jealousy mixed with joy. Insecurity wrapped up in elation.
The feelings are complex.
And I just want to encourage you, if jealousy is something you are struggling with, to lean into that.
It doesn’t have to be either, or. My partner likes someone else. It’s a disaster! Or My partners likes someone else. I have to be happy for them and feel nothing else but that!
When I looked at that scene of my partner and baby smiling together, I could have shamed myself for even daring to entertain the idea there was anything negative about it. A younger me would have done that because that’s what our society teaches us to do. “It’s a good thing! Be happy for them!”
But it’s important to a acknowledge all sides of a situation. There is always silver lining and there is always a darkness. And we learn the most about ourselves by exploring these darker parts.
Ironically, I’m grateful I could experience this totally new phenomenon, feeling jealous in the constellation of my child and partner. I could explore what it said about me and what I needed (some appreciation, for example.) I’m glad I had the opportunity to feel that that day.
It’s okay to be jealous. Dive into that, see what it has to say.
And in most cases, if you can see the bright side, if there truly is a bright side, that means the discomfort you feel is not going to last forever.
One day, you’re going to be sitting on the couch holding your baby in your arms and he will give you the sweetest, brightest most adorable smile you’ve ever seen. You may feel proud for a second, self-satisfied that you have unlocked this achievement, but soon after, I hope, you will forget all about that. You’ll forget about everything, in fact.
You’ll let go of all your thoughts with your eyes locked on his and his open and toothless upward-curving mouth. And you’ll just feel pure joy at the sight in front of you. You will exist in a flow of love. With no ulterior motives. And that will be all there is.
Feel your feelings.
Let go.
Thrive.
I’m looking for a few more beta testers for my full course on jealousy. If you are struggling with jealousy and want the tools to understand it and move forward from it, this is for you. If you’re interested, just respond to this email to let me know and I’ll send you some more info!
What else?
I’m almost done with the book The Art of Gathering. This came to me as a suggestion from my coach at the perfect time, as I’m trying to create a non-blood fam here in Berlin (more on that another time). Some really important ideas like the fact that sometimes you should avoid being a “chill” host and actually use your power benevolently because that’s what your guests want. I needed that.
Jealousy course, sign up to be a beta tester by the end of the week.
Flo, Eli, and I at a school last Sunday voting for the German seats in the European Parliament 🇪🇺: