Dear Therapist,

I have a friend I love — truly love — but lately I can hardly stand to be around her. She’s dazzlingly successful in her work, always composed, the sort of person who glows when she enters a room.

When good things happen to her, I want to be happy — and part of me is — but another part twists up inside. It’s an ugly mix of admiration and resentment. I hate that I compare myself to her. I hate that I need her to falter so I can feel okay about myself. And I hate that I hate it.

It’s starting to poison our friendship. I find myself avoiding her, subtly competing, deflecting her good news. I miss how we used to be — before success divided us. Should I tell her I’m envious, or would that just make things worse? How do I stop feeling like a small, bitter person when I know I’m capable of love?

Sincerely,

Ashamed and Jealous

Dear Ashamed and Jealous,

You’ve already done something remarkable — you’ve named envy out loud. Most people bury it under layers of forced cheer or quiet self-disgust. Envy often contorts into judgment or criticism — the mind’s way of disguising its ache for what feels out of reach. You’ve looked straight at it, and that’s the beginning of freedom.

Here’s the truth: envy isn’t proof that you’re cruel or shallow. It’s proof that you care — that something in your friend’s life has touched a longing or deprivation in your own. We envy only those who live close to our own unlived desires.

As for whether to tell her — not yet, and perhaps not ever. Confessing it might unburden you but weigh heavily on her. What matters more is what the envy is trying to tell you. What is it she has that you’ve been denying yourself? A creative outlet? Boldness? Permission to be visible? Follow that thread. Envy, when listened to, becomes a map back to your own vitality.

Friendship can survive asymmetry; what it can’t survive is dishonesty. So keep showing up with real warmth and curiosity, even if you feel the sting. As you begin to nurture the parts of yourself that envy has been guarding, your resentment will loosen — and admiration will take its place.

That’s the quiet miracle of envy faced with courage: it becomes a teacher instead of a tormentor.

With warmth and respect,

Charlotte