Don’t Leave Me This Way: Being Jealous Of a Friend’s Luck in Love

A few nights ago, while staring idly at tiny print in a huge history book, I got a call from one of my best friends who goes to college right next to mine. Because of the rush of Back To School shenanigans, we hadn’t hung out in a few weeks, so it was nice to ignore work for a while and catch up. As she talked about her wild weeks, she mentioned that she had met two guys and had already been out with both of them once.

“It’s so weird!” she said, her voice stretching into a smile. “It’s been one and a half years of nothing, and now I’ve met two cute, nice-seeming guys in the last two weeks.”

“Dude, that is awesome.” I turned away from my history book and looked out my small window. “Just make sure you save some cute, normal guys for the rest of us.”

As my friend continued to talk excitedly, I continued to cheer her on. Because I was happy for her, you know? She’s a fabulous girl who’s completely down to earth, cute as a button, and is sure to be a famous fashion designer some day (without the bored, holier-than-thou attitude of most designers). I was glad she had found some prospects.

I was something else too, though. Something I didn’t even know I was until I hung up the phone. I was worried. If she gets a boyfriend, a tiny voice whispered in my ear, I’ll be one of the only single people I know. She can’t get a boyfriend! Maybe those guys won’t work out.

As soon as I realized I had thought those things, I felt gross. How could I wish my friend bad luck in love? How could I hope that one of the best girls I know stayed single? Who was I, Lauren Conrad?

When it comes down to it, I know those negative thoughts were probably less about what I hoped for my friend and more about my own stupid insecurities. It wasn’t that I didn’t want my friend to be happy, it’s that I’m afraid I’ll be alone and single forever and end up as that weird “aunt” who isn’t really an aunt and always gets just a little too drunk at parties in the suburban family homes of all my friends. I feel insecure about my lack of dates, and I want people to feel insecure with me. Insecurities are so much easier when someone is feeling them right alongside you.

So I’m happy for my friend. Definitively, I’m happy for her. I’m also learning how to deal with my petty worries about boyfriends and being a weird lushy “aunt.” Things are going to work out for both of us, momentary jealousy aside.

[What about you? Have you ever felt this sort of thing before? Share and unburden yourself!]