Today’s Daily Prompt is: Write an anonymous letter to someone you’re jealous of.
Dear Everyone Who Is Not Me,
You walked past me on the street yesterday. I doubt you even noticed me. But I noticed you. Your confident walk. Those designer sunglasses. A uniquely crafted handbag swinging by your side. Your beautiful outfit – stylish but not trying too hard, just right in fact. As if you had been let in on the secret style formula that constantly evades my grasp. By comparison the “cute tee” and jeans combo I chose this morning is decidedly “mumsy”. I hate the way that my hair sits three weeks after my haircut; no matter how hard I try I just can’t get it to look like it did that day in the salon. I never seem to be able to find such unique accessories, I always make the wrong choice & choose a bag I grow to hate or an impractical clutch. I envy you.
You sat across the crowded pub from me last week, surrounded by your friends. You laughed in all the right places, a real feel-it-in-your-belly explosion of mirth, not a fake insert-laughter-here chuckle. Your friends listened to your stories, enraptured by your obvious wit and brilliance. You hugged newcomers and kissed departing pals, confident in your place in your social group and surrounded by those who enjoy your company. I never seem to be comfortable in social situations. Am I talking too much or am I saying too little? Are my stories interesting? Is that a look of polite boredom on the faces around me? Fatigue creeps in all too often and I long to return to the solitude of my flat, to my undemanding but understanding internet friends, away from the social minefield that is every bar and restaurant. I envy you.
We worked together on a project last month. You were assigned to share your expertise while my team learned from you to improve our work. You are so intelligent, so knowledgeable and so articulate. Your ideas are innovative, yet profitable. Your style is relaxed, yet persuasive. You had my colleagues on the edge of their seats, torn between missing a word that you said and scribbling copious notes lest they forget any of the wisdom you were imparting. As a fellow female in a male-dominated industry I silently saluted you. I will never sit where you sit. I lack the business acumen and the ability to articulate my thoughts in such a logical and convincing manner. I could never persuade others to believe in me as you have, regardless of the value of my ideas. To pay just to be in the same room as me. I always seem to get in my own way, doing enough to be appreciated but not quite enough to stand out. I guess I’m not destined for professional brilliance after all. I envy you.