On jealousy

Flipping though the never ending gallery of Instagram, I just flipped past the new photos of a very sweet girl from my previous agency. She apparently has also moved on to new horizons, and her photos look slamming. Photos taken by my current agency’s owner’s partner, who’s never had me in front of his lens yet.

This all gave me an itch. Why does it bother me so much to see peers succeed? Am I a spiteful, jealous bitch, rubbing my dirty hands in the corner waiting for others to fail? Do others have to stay low for me to succeed? Why can’t they take those pictures of me, too?

It’s a pickle and a half, doing what I do. I do not consider myself remotely successful, more trying to pursue a job that seems to be the only one still open for me. This is a tricky business, crazy competitive and being at the older side of the spectrum, my chances are running lower as long as the damn clock keeps ticking along. on top of that, there’s the ever present element of insecurity. We don’t like to admit it, yet we all have that voice in the back of our minds, yapping that we’re not good enough.

I hate feeling bummed out about seeing another girl’s amazing work. It drags me down the rabbit hole into a very whiny place of feeling not good enough, and also of feeling very sorry for myself. I’ll devour another bag of crisps coated in self loathing, please, in order to temporarily redeem myself and loathe myself even more the next day.

Instead, I’ll take this as a wake up call. Everybody is on the move to something more exciting, so you can’t keep standing there, shaking your fists covered in Cheetos-dust with your hair unwashed for days shouting it’s not fair. Instead, I’ll book my own shoots. I don’t have the luxury of thousands of followers, so I have to find the people myself, go knock some doors down.

Other folks are doing amazingly, and so can I.