Jealousy is ugly. I’ve been thinking about this emotion in the last couple days. I’ve only ever been in love with two men. Angus was jealous of the idea of me with other men. Robert actually accused me of cheating on him. I’ve had other men express jealous thoughts. But what occurred to me recently is that I’ve never had a man jealous that my mind was going to something else or jealous that my heart was going to someone else. Men only get jealous of my sexual desire, or more specifically, who has access to my kitty. It’s not the essential Jen, my mind or my heart, that they are jealous about. It’s a body part. What is crazy is that both of these men had ample access to my kitty and for a variety of reasons didn’t take advantage, but boy, were they mad when the idea of somebody else getting it popped into their head. And thus it dawns on me that jealously is NOT a loving emotion.
I know, I know. It seems obvious right? Well, I’m a slow learner, ok? There was a time when I thought jealousy was flattering. “He loves me so much! He doesn’t want anyone to have me!” Oh, hell no. The reality is that he is so insecure that he can’t take anything that threatens his manhood. It’s all about him and his own ego. It has nothing to do with me what-so-ever. If anything, it’s damaging to me. When a man is jealous and dumps it on me, he is punishing me emotionally because he can’t handle his own inadequacies. Jealousy is not a man expressing his love for me. It’s an expression of his own fear and pain about himself.
Sheesh. I wish I had realized this a loooooooong time ago.