Jealousy doesn’t happen often for me anymore. I’ve made my neuroatypical life so unique that it is really unusual for me to hear about someone and to then be jealous of them. But it finally happened. I discovered a bio online of a professor around my age, who has the same research interests as me, and who has published a ton on these topics so close to my heart. I felt a sting I had forgotten about.
I think that it is definitely an artform, to live with a disability and not to feel jealousy at people who do not struggle. I have apparently not yet mastered this artform, but I remain hopeful that one day, probably 5 years from now, I will not feel jealous of people with their accolades when their accolades are close to my former, wellness-infused ambitions of my late twenties.
For my Christmas card this past year I wrote that I was doing well and said that I was praying for people who had not yet found stability. I think I wrote something like this: “prayers for all those who still suffer.” One person I happen to know who still suffers daily, and who is unemployed and pretty isolated, was deeply offended by this letter. She said that I was rubbing it in her face that I had a good life now.
I finally see how this went wrong when I thought I had done so much right. It was definitely meant to be affirming and grateful, but really, I just extended pity to people who are still suffering. This could have been humiliating to them.
I guess I’ll just have to double down on the neuroatypical uniqueness that is me since I can’t go and get a PhD and publish tons of articles anymore. That ship has sailed. But I am grateful in a way that this moment of jealousy happened. I returned to the website again today and looked at it and let the feeling of jealousy wash over me until it disappeared. I remembered that the man is still a human after all, and much like me since he publishes on what I’m passionate about.
I think I will buy his books and see if they are any good.
Erin Michael Grimm 