I mortify myself for so very many reasons, and the reason I’d like to splay open for you here today has to do with envy. More specifically, how I every now and then entirely envy my friends. My delightfully made-up word for this is that I am friendvious.

That’s where the delight stops, though. Because (*gasp*) envy is a deadly sin! Maybe by confessing it here I’ll somehow atone for this moral malfeasance? (I’m a lapsed Catholic so I don’t really care about the sinning part. I do care about the being a shitty friend part. Wait: does envying a friend make you a shitty friend, if your friend can’t tell that you are a grotesque shade of green on the inside? More on that in a minute.)

In an effort to understand and then feel better about my character-based defects, I turn to research, where I cherry-pick the reasons why my behavior is perfectly okay. Advantageous, even! (Remember my article on the psychology of leaving early? I justified the Irish Exit and will never slog it out for the duration of a full event again.) I kid: I’m too academically responsible to cherry-pick research. But I will leave your party after 40 minutes or the end of my drink, whichever comes first.

Back to envy.

I console myself with studies that show non-family-like relationships (i.e., close friends, casual friends, and acquaintances) are more likely to elicit feelings of envy than family-like relationships (i.e., relatives, siblings, best friends, and romantic partners).

Research reassures us that “more than three fourths of survey participants report that they had experienced envy in the last year.” Digging a bit deeper, about 80 percent of people under 30 reported feeling envious, whereas only 69 percent of people over 50 felt envious in the last year. It’s so relieving to know I’m supposed to feel less envious now that I’ve turned 50.

We are more likely to envy others of the same gender and within five years of our own age. We’re most likely to envy monetary and occupational success (although I have also been known to envy my friend CJ’s lustrous hair).

Fun fact: there is no evidence to support jealousy in the animal kingdom—contrary to the look in Monty’s eyes when he finds me cat-canoodling with his brother—proving yet again that humans really are the worst.

Allow me to provide personally unflattering examples before we wade further into the psychology of this unsavory emotion:

• If I see a LinkedIn post from my friend Tamara, I am struck by two simultaneous and conflicting emotions: the first one is warm and fuzzy (because I like Tamara! and because I like seeing her successful!), and the second one is crappy and cloudy (because I want to be as successful and go do work in Brazil, too, or wherever she’s doing whatever she’s doing). I texted Tamara to tell her I was going to mention her in this article, and she was really gracious about it. She then sent me a picture of herself in Marrakesh holding a monkey and I was like, “WHY ARE YOU SO INSISTENT UPON MAKING ME FREINDVIOUS, BITCH?!” She good-naturedly hearted that text response, while I zoomed in on the photo and wondered when I would ever get to Marrakesh.
• While updating my website, I looked up my successful speaker friends’ demo reels and webpages for inspiration. I was (and still am) impressed with the careers of these incredible keynoters. I am proud of them! I love them! I also had to “scroll + scram” because if I dwelled on a particular friend’s site too for long, it sparked imposter pangs—which is almost as fun as shingles, I’ve heard? Take my friend Jasmine, who’s an incredible keynote presenter. I’d squint at her site through one eye, grab enough inspiration, and then bolt before envy deflated my well-being. (Same with you Jill—I’m scrolling + scramming through your incredible website and posts too, you force of nature, you.)
• Do you also think LinkedIn needs an envy side effect warning, like how the drug commercials are required to tell you it’s likely you’ll experience the pesky side effects of diarrhea &/or death? (Your results may vary.) For the most part I scroll briefly through LinkedIn, like and comment on a few things that friends have posted, and pretty much get out unscathed. But sometimes I get sucked in by a friend’s post that causes me to whisper into the void (which is usually to a cat who looks wholly uninterested in my feelings of inadequacy), “I wish I was speaking at that conference.”

Okay that’s enough personal shame-sharing for now.

Moving on to the science of envy…

Let’s differentiate between envy and jealousy:

Envy = wanting what someone else has that you happen to lack… feeling inferior &/or resentful. No fun.

Jealousy = fear of losing something you already have to another person… feeling anxious or fearful of loss. Even less fun.

This girl fell down a Tell Me More About Envy rabbit hole on Google Scholar so I’m taking you down with me:

• Envy is generally unpleasant, but it’s not always harmful. It’s typically painful and ego-threatening, which is why it can sting our well-being in the short term.
• Social Comparison Theory helps explains the engine of envy: Upward social comparison is when we compare ourselves to similar others to evaluate our abilities and status—especially close peers like friends. When a friend accomplishes something we want (e.g., job success, six-pack abs), the comparison is self-relevant, making envy more likely.
• Social media amplifies upward comparisons, which then decreases our well-being. This might be hard to fathom but studies show Facebook use can trigger envy?
• Being friendvious is even more conflicting when we value the friend and don’t want them to suffer. Suffer? Who said anything about suffering? Right on cue…
• Most research distinguishes between benign envy and malicious envy: Benign Envy motivates self-improvement and sounds a lot like, “I want to be as accomplished as my friend.” Malicious Envy involves ill will toward the friend and sounds a lot like, “I wish my friend would have less success, and while she’s at it, slightly disfigure herself in a perfectly non-life-threatening accident.”

Researcher Sara Protasi describes four kinds of envy (a framework I love so much and would totally be envious of if I was trying to be an envy researcher, but alas, I have keynote speaker friends to be envious of instead):

Emulative envy “is the result of being focused on the good and believing oneself to be capable of getting the good for oneself.” The envied person is viewed as someone to look up to. I see Tamara, Jasmine, and Jill as role models.

This definition makes it sound like a lovely quadrant to be in, but there is a dark side: “Even in what looks like benign envy there is a subterraneous and implicit maliciousness: the envier is motivated toward whatever would ameliorate the envy your situation, either by outdoing or undoing the rival’s advantage … It is only a matter of moral conscience whether enviers opt for leveling up or down.” Am I the only one transfixed by the term subterraneous maliciousness?

Inert envy “is the result of being focused on the good but believing oneself to be incapable of getting the good for herself. This is usually accompanied by feelings of despair, frustration, self-loathing, and often, shame and guilt for feeling envy … the envier is not motivated to self-improve because she feels hopeless about the possibility of overcoming her disadvantage … Inert envy makes us aware of the gap between our best intentions and our in capacity to realize them.” Oooof.

Aggressive envy arises from “being focused on the envied and believing oneself to be capable of taking the good away from them. What matters more than getting the good per se performing the other person… Often involving bringing the envied down … This brand of envy is actively malevolent. The envied is like a rival in a duel who has to be attacked and defeated.” Ouch.

Spiteful envy “is the result of being focused on the envied, and believing oneself to be incapable of taking the good away from them… Frustration and aggression toward the envied will give rise to full-blown, swiping destruction: both the envied and the good will be affected … Spiteful envy feels pretty bad, since it lacks the pleasant hope of stealing the good … Aggressive envy can bring long lasting, albeit moral, advantages to the envy. Spiteful envy cannot do so.” Can we take a moment to chuckle at the “pleasant hope of stealing the good”?

So what’s a friendvious person to do?

The research is great and all but what do we actually do about friendvy? I devised a Friendvious Action Plan, so get ready to feel better about yourself:

# 1: If you’re experiencing aggressive or spiteful envy, you should probably just proactively check yourself into prison. Or arrange an envy exorcism, I don’t know. You might be beyond repair.

# 2: Name it, don’t shame it. Benign envy is a normal social emotion, so labeling it might reduce its sting and keep you from slipping into pettiness. My envy reminds me I have some semblance of passion and that I want very good things for my life. If I didn’t compare myself to my friends-doing-what-I-want-to-be-doing-more-of, it might mean I no longer gave a shit. I’d prefer envy over apathy.

# 3: Consider honesty. When I told my friends I was going to write about them in this article, they were flattered that I envied them, not weirded out. This might have been because I didn’t say they were “rivals in a duel to be attacked and defeated via full-blown, swiping destruction.” I like that Tamara, Jasmine, and Jill now know I admire their accomplishments, even if I vulnerable-ized myself in the roundabout process of complimenting them.

# 4: Try to let your envy motivate you rather than demoralize you. Yes, this is as annoying as suggesting you turn that frown upside down, Mr. Grumpypants. We know context matters… envy motivates only when self-improvement seems possible.

• So if you’re experiencing inert envy (the one where you don’t believe you can obtain the thing your friend has), either make a plan to somehow get good at the thing or just give up the dream already. Is it possible for me to have good hair like my friend CJ? (*Heavy sigh*) No (*tousles limp locks*). I’m letting that dream go.
• If you’re experiencing emulative envy (the one where you think it’s technically possible to have the cool thing your friend has), then let it act like a crack of the whip to try harder and reach that brass ring. Moan and groan for 45 seconds tops about how you want your friend’s job/ Instagram account/ respect in her industry/ third home/ bum/ boyfriend/ whatever and then take one step in the direction of getting it for yourself (except maybe the boyfriend—don’t go after her boyfriend).

Well, I’ll be darned!

I think we’ve shown that the right kind of envy—the benign kind—can motivate improvement in our lives. When our rival’s friend’s success seems somewhat attainable, envy can increase our own effort and performance. Research also shows this good-intentioned envy is “positively linked with flourishing”… so it ultimately enhances our subjective well-being. Some of us set even higher goals and work even harder after upward comparisons. I guess in light of all this, I don’t know how we’d be successful without envy?

We are allowed to want to emulate friends we admire… we can positively envy them and still be good friends. We can hold multiple emotions at the same time: we can be happy for our friend’s successes, and simultaneously unhappy that we don’t have what they have (yet). Our personal boo-hoos don’t have to compromise our friendships, especially if we’re willing to share our applause for their wins with them.

Above all, it’s okay if you are envious of me for my super cute “friendvious” portmanteau. “Friendvy” wasn’t so bad, either, right? I’d envy me for those made-up gems if I were you. We can still be friends, though, because now we know friendship and benign envy can get along just fine. And now you’re motivated to get on out there and make up stupid words of your own, so you’re welcome.