I have a very hard time differentiating between love and hate.
The easiest way for me to explain this is to do what works for me in most example-giving situations - and that is to
reference middle school.
Do you remember the three or four girls for whom you harbored a deep sense or resentment but also a disconcertingly large and conflicting amount of love?
|gary pepper girl|
Do you remember that one quasi-athletic guy with shaggy, pre-Bieber, side-swept and semi-greasy but-oh-so-luscious brunette bangs and how you very verbally "thought he was so stupid" and "shallow" and "immature" but secretly wished that you were the girl who got to hold his clammy hand sans eye contact for the entirety of Final Destination 2?
Savor that emotion.
Now amplify it by 1,000.
|5 inch and up|
That is how I feel about successful people.
It's nothing personal.
Honestly, it's likely a form of flattery. It's a form of flattery with roots in immaturity and leaves sprouted from a lack of self confidence. But where it really becomes painful is in those situations in which I truly believe that I could have gotten where they are myself.
It's that bitter taste in my mouth that stems from the (usually false) assumption that their triumphs should have been achievable by yours truly that cuts the deepest.
[[i.e. here we exclude prodigal piano players, mentally-superior mathematicians, swan lake princesses, etc, etc]]
|my fashion inspiration|
Thus, enter the confusing host of conflicting emotions that comes into play when meeting blog goddesses.
Just because the resentment stems from immaturity and false assumptions about how they reached their destination, doesn't mean that it isn't real.
|harper & harley|
Am I alone here?