On the Receiving End of Jealousy

Moment of transparency… Something real, that’s been on my heart and mind, that not enough of us name out loud… I’ve been on the receiving end of jealousy from women I love(d) - family, friends, people I thought were safe. And when it finally revealed itself? Whew…

Even after the dust settled, I caught myself checking in on them. Watching their moves. Scrolling through their social media, not to be petty, but trying to understand. Was it really jealousy? Was I imagining it? Are they doing better now? Do they still feel that way about me? I used to think I was just being nosy, or worse, unhealed. But let me tell you, what I’ve come to understand is that this is something deeper. It’s curiosity mixed with comparison.

It’s what happens when someone’s jealousy left a mark on you. When you felt it in their energy, in their words, in their silence. And even when you didn’t do anything wrong, it changed how you saw yourself. That quiet checking in. That scrolling… It’s your mind trying to make sense of the story. Trying to understand what made you a target. Trying to see if they’ve “caught up,” or if you're still quietly being measured, even from afar. It's not about being petty. It's about healing from an invisible bruise that left you second-guessing your light.

But I also had to ask myself: “What do I need to do to hold myself accountable, so I don’t slip into pettiness while sitting in this curiosity?” What’s been helping me is,

1.) Checking in with my intention. Am I seeking clarity or feeding a wound?

2.) Being mindful of when the scrolling turns into spiraling.

3.) Journaling what I need in that moment - attention, validation, or closure.

4.) Praying for clarity and peace over being “right” or “vindicated.”

5.) Reminding myself: Their healing isn’t mine to monitor. Mine is.

Saying all this to say, if you've been there, or if you're there now, know you're not imagining it. You're not wrong for being curious. You don’t owe anyone dimming your light to make them more comfortable. You can hold compassion and boundaries. You can pray for them and protect yourself. You can be healing and still occasionally look back - not to stay there, but to remind yourself how far you've come. You’re not “too much.” You were just never meant to fit in places where shrinking was required.