Good for Them. That's Not for Me: Dealing with Other People's Success

Because I am not a monster, whenever I see someone announce a recent success, I think ‘well done’. My second instinctual response is far less wholesome. It is ‘now why didn’t I get that?’. Even if I had access to similar opportunities, I feel resentful that I missed out. Your win is somehow my loss. 

It is an ugly attitude of “they’ve got nice things. Why don’t I have nice things?”. Like a child put out that they do not get a present when it’s someone else’s birthday. 

What I rarely consider in that moment is whether I even want to be doing what they are doing. I also forget that I have my own nice things.

We should remember that often we do not know what people have given up in order to get their little victory. Marathon runners have limited diets and strict bedtimes. Any touring act misses a lot of weddings. 

Nor do we consider that the achievement is a fleeting thing instead of a perpetual plus. Anyone who wins an Academy Award has spent years being rejected, ripped off, and objectified. It must feel incredible in the moment. All your hard work paid off! You are guaranteed to make international headlines the next day. 

Within a year, your name will be just an answer in a pub quiz. 

It is important to remember that Facebook and Instagram are essentially people's highlight reels (Twitter, however, is a million anxious voices chronicling their stress in real time). It is a version of someone’s life that they have consciously curated, edited, and presented. You are not getting the full picture. Married couples still have fights. You do not want to know how many takes was needed to get that lovely family photo with the kids. 

I keep all this in mind whenever I see someone else celebrating. I try to face it with an attitude best encapsulated in a simple motto. 

Good for them. That’s not for me. 

In other words, I delight in my friends and colleagues reaching a goal. I have used the Love reaction on so many statuses that I potentially rendered the word meaningless and now need a completely different one. Or I have limitless capacity for love. Either/or. 

However, I not only recognise their significant achievement, but I also accept that I may not want it for myself. YOU go climb Everest/run a marathon/join that opera company. That's not one of my #lifegoals. While you chase your dream, I will be at home, content with my lot. You go after the Oscar. I’ll do the pub quiz.