Jealousy Tugs On My Heartstrings

To write or not to write, as I fight the urge to compare myself to others.

A small voice tugs at the back of my throat.

“What’s going on? This isn’t fair! You have been working so hard and they’re doing better than you! Am I missing something here?”

Palpitations rush through my body each time I see that someone less skilled than me is experiencing more “success” than I am.

In this context, success must be identified in quotes, because I am well aware that things usually aren’t what they seem to be on the internet.

Despite this confusion over unskilled writers growing at a faster rate than me, it really fucking sucks.

It doesn’t make objective sense, really, that an individual with a ton of typos, thoughts that lack cohesiveness, and age-old advice I could find on the back of a cereal box is earning more than I am.

I just don’t get it, and I’m struggling every day.

Sure, I might sound like an entitled wanna-be, mad that I don’t seek the results I so desperately desire.

This January, I will have called Medium home for two years now. I really screwed myself, though.

When I landed my first full-time gig, post-grad, I basically stopped publishing or writing. I just couldn’t figure out how to manage my time as a writer and retain all the training I underwent in a managerial position.

My stats plummeted, and the 24k+ 30-day view I quietly boasted to myself sank progressively, where it now sits around 7k. I desperately try to undo the damage my inconsistency has done.

And you know what?

I’m jealous.

I know it isn’t helpful. I know that it’s a waste of mental energy. I know that when I spend time pining over the success of others, that I’m sending out a vibration of lack, and thus I shall be met with such from this vast Universe.

I just can’t help it. I’m at a loss for words.

I write, research, sleep, and repeat. I am glued to my screen for an average of nine hours per day. I try to balance my varying gigs as I viciously apply to positions I am more than qualified for on paper.

I’m jealous and I’m angry and it’s really hard to deny it.

I want to be the writer who lifts new writers up and tells them they can do anything if they just put in the work and pull on their bootstraps. But I can’t be that person. At least not now. I want to be the one raking in four figures per month on this godforsaken platform. I know I deserve it.

Now, don’t get me wrong. There are so many incredibly gifted writers who so effortlessly use the power of words in a way I am incapable of. The writers like Jessica WildFire and Zulie Rane, among others. With writing so impeccable, I am enamored by the consistent artform they deliver. With such grace, they remain my silent mentors, rooting for me through their ability to succeed by creating GOOD content.

I believe in the power of hard work. I strive to elevate my writing to the standards of these two powerful women.

I am jealous of the people who take five minutes to produce a load of bullcrap and actually make money from it. I don’t like it, it isn’t fair.

Yeah, life’s not fucking fair. I know that.

Each day, I push and push. I hit brick walls, but I keep writing my damn heart out. I literally cannot stop — it is undeniably my passion.

And after a well-needed rant, I am left with some feelings of relief, knowing full well that I am not alone.

Each day is a journey and a lesson. In January of 2020, I made my first five cents from my first article here. I promised myself that I would always stay true to myself in my writing. I would never sacrifice quality for views. I would keep growing and evolving personally, professionally, and spiritually.

I knew my writing would only improve, and it has. Sometimes, it just seems like I’m doing something wrong. …that the masses don’t want to sit through a seven-minute read that will actually provide them with insight or tactics that will improve the quality of my life.

I’ll never stop writing. I’ll get past the pain. I’ll stay true to myself and my written word, all the while. I guess that’s what really matters, isn’t it?

Best,

🆂🆄🆉🍊

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