I’m struggling. I hate to admit it for two reasons: I don’t like to admit when I’m struggling. And I don’t want to admit that I’ve been experiencing feelings of jealousy.
For years I *refused* to be jealous of anyone. I was in CONTROL of my life. Others were doing great things, and I was happy for them. Why would anyone ever be jealous?
But this summer (and probably gradually over the last 6 months), I’ve been more and more jealous. It seems as though every single person I know is traveling somewhere interesting. And I’m here at home. Managing kid schedules, work, home. No awe-inspiring trip to Europe. No relaxing trip to Costa Rica. No super adventurous trip out west.
Just a few years ago, the girls and I were always on the road. Trips all over the country. Multiple international trips a year. Months where we’d spend only a handful of days at home. I loved those days. And I miss them terribly.
Every time I feel the green-eyed monster try to make an appearance, I try to remind myself: “You’ve had great trips. You will again have great trips. You even have some small trips scheduled for this summer. Maybe not on the scale of your past travels, but that time will come again.”
I am working on being grateful for my family, my home, my job, my friends, my freedom.
But it takes effort. And when I’m worn down from other struggles, it is not easy to refocus….
