“Jealousy is often the bitter fruit of a fearful heart, serving as a direct mirror to our deepest self-doubt.”

He looked at me sideways one day and said, “Yeah, so the cashier was totally hitting on me. She was asking me what I was building, smiling at me. I was about to tell her, ‘oh, you don’t want to do that. My girl would kick your ass.’”

I laughed.

Not because it was true.

But because it was so wildly untrue.

I have never gotten into a physical fight. I’ve never threatened another woman. I’ve never even considered fighting over a man.

Sweet Lord.

If someone wants to leave, cheat, wander, or go looking for greener grass somewhere else, I refuse to fight for someone who doesn’t want to stay.

But I also knew what Shawn was doing.

This wasn’t really about a cashier.

It wasn’t about another woman.

And it certainly wasn’t about whether I would fight for him.

It was about reassurance.

Underneath the joke was a man wondering if he was enough.

A man wondering if he was special.

A man wondering if he was loved.

And instead of simply asking, he tried to create a situation where I would prove it.

The irony is that all he had to do was ask.

Because reassurance is free.

Love doesn’t become less valuable because it is spoken out loud.

What many people don’t understand about me is that I am actually an incredibly insecure person.

Years of conditioning taught me that I was never quite enough.

Not smart enough.

Not pretty enough.

Not successful enough.

Not worthy enough.

Those messages don’t disappear simply because you recognize them.

I still battle them every day.

Not occasionally.

Daily.

It takes affirmations, awareness, accountability, and intentionality for me not to seek validation in unhealthy places.

I know what insecurity feels like.

I know what it feels like to question your worth.

I know what it feels like to wonder whether someone really loves you or if they’re just tolerating you.

And because I know that feeling so intimately, I have an enormous amount of grace for people who need reassurance.

I don’t mind telling people they matter.

I don’t mind reminding someone that I appreciate them.

I don’t mind expressing affection.

I don’t mind saying, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Because I think there is something beautiful about relationships where people feel safe enough to ask for what they need.

“Jealousy is not a barometer by which the depth of love can be read. It merely records the degree of the lover’s insecurity.” — Margaret Mead

Over the years, I’ve started recognizing jealousy for what it often is.

Not possessiveness.

Not anger.

Not even control.

Fear.

Fear of losing something valuable.

Fear of being replaced.

Fear that someone else might be more interesting, more attractive, more successful, more desirable.

Fear that you are no longer special.

I’ve seen it show up in relationships throughout my life.

I’ve watched people become uncomfortable when they discovered parts of my story that existed before them.

I’ve watched them compare themselves to people who were never actually in competition with them.

I’ve watched them search social media, read articles, scroll photographs, and create stories that only deepened their fears.

And every time, I found myself wishing they would simply ask the question underneath the reaction.

“Do I still matter to you?”

“Am I enough?”

“Do you still choose me?”

Because the answer was never hidden.

The answer was never being withheld.

The answer was available through a conversation.

Through honesty.

Through vulnerability.

Through communication.

What breaks my heart is that jealousy often creates the very distance it fears.

Instead of asking for reassurance, people withdraw.

Instead of expressing insecurity, they become defensive.

Instead of communicating, they assume.

Instead of seeking connection, they react.

And reactions rarely heal what honesty could have resolved.

I’ve learned that healthy relationships aren’t built by pretending insecurity doesn’t exist.

They’re built by acknowledging it.

By saying the scary thing.

By admitting the fear.

By allowing yourself to be reassured.

The strongest people I know aren’t the ones who never feel jealous.

They’re the ones who recognize jealousy when it shows up, get curious about what it’s trying to tell them, and then have the courage to communicate the need underneath it.

Because most of the time, beneath jealousy is a simple request:

“Please remind me that I’m loved.”

And for the people who love you?

That’s usually the easiest thing in the world to give.

With ALL OF MY LOVE! Xoxo J