DECONSTRUCTING JEALOUSY

My friend Sarah is smart and successful. She walks down the streets of London looking as confident as if she owned the city. Whenever we meet for Friday drinks or Sunday brunches, she charms me with the details of the last exotic place she visited for work. She has a great sense of humour and, between a mimosa and an avocado on toast, we discuss politics and human nature. Yet, as much as we love to think of ourselves as independent and intelligent women, our favourite topic is men. I can't remember how many times we have laughed at the latest disastrous date or cried for the end of what we thought was the ultimate perfect relationship. On our last lunch date, sitting in the sun in Hampstead Heath, we talked again, for the millionth time of how she freaked out when her boyfriend told her that he would stay out after work for a drink with work-mates. I find it so interesting that such a smart and confident woman becomes absolutely irrational and blinded by jealousy so often, for such trivial reasons. So I sat down and thought about jealousy. What is it? Where does it come from? Can we overcome it?

Milan Kundera, in “The Hitchhiking Game” says: Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, but if it isn't overdone (and if it's combined with modesty), apart from its inconvenience there's even something touching about it” Is this the difficult part? Being able to combine it with modesty?

Literature and art provide countless examples of explosive jealousy. Hera, queen of the gods and protectress of marital unions, is notoriously jealous of her husband, Zeus. Can we learn anything from Hera's attempts at keeping nymphs and mortals away from her husband? I think we can maybe look into Jung's definition of Jealousy: "The kernel of all jealousy is lack of love". How so? Are we not jealous because we love? Don't we try to keep our man with us and nobody else because we love him? But is it love? Or is it anger, fear of abandonment, feeling inadequate? Hera was jealous with a reason, she wasn't suspecting that her husband was having affairs, she knew it. The king of the gods wasn't exactly successful at keeping his flings secret, and every time his wife found out the next liaison, she went ballistic. Hera for her time was modern, a revolutionary. It is her that for the first time claims the right of a wife to demand marital fidelity. We profoundly respect her for that. But was it love? Or was it more the prestige and honour that her marriage with Zeus was granting her that she was defending?

A few years have passed since our queen of the gods used to throw plates at her spouse. Most of us would walk away from a husband that betrays us so openly and casually. And surely it is not my friend Sarah's case. She never caught her boyfriend in the act, she never saw anything suspicious and he never really gave her a reason to doubt him. Yet she will lie awake at night picturing him in the arms of a beautiful nymph, every time he goes for a beer with the boys. This is why I agree with Jung's idea of jealousy as a lack of love. When we are jealous without reason, we are assuming that our partner is our enemy, always ready to stab us in the back. If we think for a moment about what it really means to subtly accuse our other half of cheating just because it's in our head, it should be clear why it could cause the end of the relationship. When we convince ourselves that instead of watching the champions league final with the lads, as he told us, he's having wild sex with that pretty girl who we saw once walk three streets down his office, we're stating that he is not worth our trust, that he's a liar, a player, an insensitive jerk. We don't really think these horrible things of our man, we're only scared to lose him. But if I put myself on the receiving end, I know how Sarah's boyfriend must feel. I have been there. I am the quintessence of loyalty. Yet, during my university years, I had a boyfriend that I loved very much, but couldn't trust me. Every time he accused me, I felt disappointed and misunderstood, disconnected from him and a bit lonely. I really couldn't figure out how he could love me and at the same time consider me unworthy of his trust.

Maybe we should start focusing on the fact that our partner is a human being with emotions, desires, fears, feelings, exactly like us. Jealousy is absolutely normal, but maybe we need to start applying that moderation Kundera is talking about, to it. I can't imagine that I won't feel a knot in my stomach next time I see some attractive woman anywhere near my boyfriend. And near for me means in the same bar, while I'm sitting next to him and she's minding her business behind a pillar where she can't even see him. I think that's nothing wrong with that, though. But imagine if I started a scene saying that he's flirting with that attractive woman, behind that pillar that he can't even see from where he's sitting, only because I think she is beautiful? That's pretty much what we're doing when we start a fight over a drink with some friends or a text from a female friend from school.

I think what is essential, is to start focusing on what we actually want, versus what we don't want. Instead of freaking out because we don't want to be betrayed, abandoned, fooled, we could work towards creating a real connection, communicating effectively, making the relationship stronger. We should find a way to obtain what we actually want instead of wasting so much energy getting angry over what we don't want. I read a beautiful book, called Amor and Psyche, The Psychic Development of the Feminine, by Erich Neumann. It explores the journey that Psyche has to accomplish to find real love (that you can buy here, if you are interested) . Another useful book to read, for anyone who wants to start understanding how love and trust come from within ourselves, is "Be Loved for Who You Are: A Handbook for Taking Control of Your Love Life from the Inside", By Clay Andrews (that you can buy here): if we are not capable of loving and trusting, no matter how loyal our partner is, we will always accuse him of flirting with the attractive woman behind the pillar.