back to work · jealousy · life · modern life · Parenting · rant · working mom

Envy

My heart weighed twenty pounds and eleven ounces on 12/10/15.

He is my beautiful whole, my bright eyed miracle.  Although he is bursting with a frightening amount of genuine enjoyment of life, I am not.  My own baggage is nestled deep inside but sharing the same space, gently pressing itself against him like a friendly cat desperate for some form of affection.  Every day I try to ignore its darkness, and every day it tries to seduce me.

Every day I sin.  Tremendous amounts of envy make itself known, meandering slowly through my every synapse, occasionally simmering over and bursting outside my body after being left unchecked for too long.  The greatest example is incredibly trite, but actually the reason I started writing again.

I was turned on to an acquaintance’s vegan, minimalist lifestyle blog by my mother.  On screen it’s blissfully divine: a vegan, minimalist family with deeply rooted values expressing their care free joie de vivre with colorful and perfectly posed Instagram pictures and eloquent poetic prose. They wander and dream and co-parent their baby, born weeks before my BB, untethered to any traditional nuances of modern life.  They rehabbed their own tiny caravan and are blissfully dreaming of the day when they can drive it out West into the beautiful sunset.

In reality, the entire façade is ridiculous.  They both have master’s degrees and are choosing to be unemployed, hence why all the time to “lifestyle blog”.  They are sponging off of their parents, the State, because they both want to watch their child (who doesn’t?) grow.  The whimsical bohemian caravan? Their trailer is parked in her parent’s backyard.  They own a Keurig, which is neither environmentally conscious or minimal.   And I’m sorry, anyone who doesn’t allow others to eat meat in front of them (while they are the dinner guests) or forces their dog eat a vegan diet is an asshole.

Despite all their ridiculousness, part of me is jealous of them.  That I choose to pay off my debts, provide my son with a bedroom he can grow into, and work.  I regret that BB will grow up in a society where material possessions are valued above all else and eventually, if he’s ” lucky”, he’ll end up with a boring nine to five to pay off his own accumulated debt from shit he doesn’t need.

My envy is ugly, but so is living in modern life.

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