When Her Win Feels Like Your Loss

Have you ever felt jealous of another woman’s joy… and then hated yourself for it?

Not because she did anything wrong,

but because she dared to do something you haven’t let yourself want.

Why another woman’s success shouldn’t feel like your failure,

and what it might be telling you about your own unmet needs.

You’re not a bad person for feeling it.

But you do deserve to understand it.

Some years ago, a casual friend announced she had self-published a book.

She had been working on it quietly,

pouring herself into long nights and countless edits.

Her post shared her journey from concept to completion.

She was proud.

And I… didn’t feel happy for her.

She had done nothing wrong.

But as I stared at her post, my brain went into overdrive,

suddenly listing every flaw I knew about her.

How dare she write a novel?

Who did she think she was?

I stared at the “like” button for what felt like forever,

paralyzed by a petty kind of protest I didn’t want to admit was mine.

Eventually, after what I can only describe as an adult temper tantrum,

a question surfaced:

Would it be so hard to show up and support her,

even if I didn’t feel like it in that moment?

This is about her.

Her moment.

Her joy.

It costs me nothing to give the smallest form of support,

a little yellow thumbs-up.

So I did.

But it didn’t stop there.

I pushed myself to dig deeper.

Why was that my first reaction?

Why did I so often feel that pang of resentment

when someone around me accomplished something incredible?

Because I had dreams too.

And at that point in my life… I wasn’t living them.

I wasn’t proud of much.

I felt stuck. Unseen. Small.

And the real problem wasn’t her,

it was me.

I wish I could say that realization changed everything overnight.

But even now, I still feel that familiar tug sometimes,

the temptation to turn away,

to roll my eyes,

to dismiss someone else’s shine.

Now, though, I recognize it for what it is:

A flare

from the parts of me

still longing for more.

It reminds me I still matter.

It tells me my desires haven’t gone away.

That I still want more, and I’m allowed to want more.

Her success didn’t hurt me.

My disconnection from my own did.

That’s the truth behind envy:

It’s not shameful.

It’s a signal.

You don’t have to pretend you’re overjoyed.

But you also don’t have to stay bitter.

You can choose kindness.

You can honor her win and still hold space for your own.

Because every time you fix another woman’s crown,

you remind yourself you still have one too.

And someday, when your moment comes,

you’ll be so glad you did.

To Jenna

I didn’t envy your joy because you did anything wrong.

I envied it because it reminded me how long I’ve gone

without chasing my own.

Your win wasn’t the problem.

It just woke up something in me I’d tried to silence.

Today, I see you.

I celebrate you.

And I thank you,

not just for writing your story,

but for becoming part of mine.

You deserve to come home to yourself.
Jennifer

🌊 www.caughtinawave.ca