THE DOCTOR IS IN

Dear Dr. Sue,

Is it normal to have a complex mix of emotions when a friend announces a success?  I've had this come up recently, and while I am genuinely excited and happy for my friends--they deserve it, they're very talented--I also find that their accomplishments remind me of my own lack of success.  It seems I'm surrounded by people who are getting books published and I'm still slowly pecking away without a contract.

This feeling of jealousy doesn't extend to friends whose careers are well-established.  I know people who have had tremendous success with four, five, six books, and I get no twinge of jealousy whatsoever when I hear about their latest awards or publications or European book tours.  I only feel this way when receiving news about friends who are--were--at the same career stage I am.  Their success somehow equates to my failure, and I feel left behind.

Is this normal?  And if it is, does it mean that I'll be making other people feel this way if I should ever have a moment of success myself?

Signed,
The Unsuccessful Writer

Dear Writer,

I understand that there are cultures that are organized to support connection rather than competition; that foster the notion that good fortune for one elevates the entire group. The citizens of such communities rejoice in one another's triumphs; lighten the load of loss by sharing it; and value others for their charity and kindness, not for their income and media exposure.

That is not where we live. Most of us are taught, early on, in various subtle and overt ways, that civilization is hierarchical, and that our value is determined by our position on the scale. We learn that there are a finite number of cookies, and if Johnny gets two, Pammy doesn't get any. If Marcie gets the coveted preschool spot, Jimmy loses out. And having two cookies and going to the right preschool make Johnny and Marcie better people and more valuable friends than those losers Pammy and Jimmy.

So, yes, feeling threatened or envious when a friend lands a contract is normal and understandable. And, sadly, your friends will probably also experience mixed feelings when you get your own book or movie deal.

It's easier to deal with the success of already established authors, because we don't experience them as rivals for the next step on the ladder. In addition, if they were already successful when the friendship began, the power dynamic has already been established, and it is not likely to be disrupted by further triumphs. A friend at roughly the same level who pulls ahead, though, by definition leaves you behind. Not only is your relative position in the hierarchy endangered, but your friend might find new, more important people to hang out with, and abandon you.

You probably know, intellectually, that this isn't likely to be the case. Your value is determined by the kind of person you are, not the price an external source places on your work; and your friends are interested you , not your sales figures. But the messages that pervade our culture say otherwise, and it's only natural that you would respond to them, at least initially.

In my experience, these reactions of envy, fear or resentment are strongest when we are dissatisfied with our own work, or with another aspect of our lives. When we are immersed in a project that engages us fully, or when our social, vocational, and/or home life is fulfilling and rewarding, we are less likely to fall prey to these comparisons. We're too involved in living our lives to worry about what anyone else is doing, and we bring to our relationships a vitality and generosity that neutralizes others' competitive anxiety.

Use your responses, in other words, to help you identify the areas of your own life or work that need your attention, and focus on cultivating these. This way, you will also be less likely to apologize for your success when it does arrive. Instead, you can consider your friends' ambivalent responses as gifts you bestow on them, to help them discover and pave their own paths to fulfillment.

Susan O'Doherty, Ph.D., is a clinical psychologist with a New York City-based practice. A fiction writer herself, she specializes in issues affecting writers and other creative artists. Her book,  Getting Unstuck Without Coming Unglued: A Woman's Guide to Unblocking Creativity, was published by Seal Press in June, 2007. Send your questions to her at Dr.Sue at mindspring dot com. 

Comments

[T]

Wonderful answer, Dr. Sue!

[Val Gryphin]

This is a great answer, and explains it so well!

[Douglas Clegg (click here to read the Coelho/Sufi story)]

Dr. Sue,

I really believe that the questioner also might not look at the outer shell of what success looks like to others, but instead what it is to the person dealing with it.

First, it may not be the success he or she wanted; it may change the life of the successful one negatively. It may not, but you never know.

The lives of writers -- published or unpublished -- can be difficult, full of struggles. No matter what the success looks like on the outside, on the inside, the person with the so-called success may feel as if it's overwhelming, or not all that it's chalked up to be, or not good enough, etc.

So, besides going inward, the person asking this question might consider a more rounded view of these friends and associates.

Additionally, if a friend of mine does well as a writer -- not only do I applaud it, but any envy I feel is a fairly productive envy (and I'm open with the friends about it -- I like that they succeed and I want them to know that, while I'm thrilled for them, I'm a bit jealous and we usually have a good laugh over this) -- I feel the need to prove myself, to challenge what I'm doing, and see where I can take it further.

Sometimes, a competitive feeling is good -- it makes you go back to the drawing board, strategize, brainstorm, and focus on the work. I often ask the more successful friend how they did what they did to get to where they are, and more often than not, the friend also becomes a mentor.

It also helps when a friend becomes very successful. If I know that person well, then I think, "Okay, I know X puts his shoes on one at a time and drinks coffee and gets depressed when the writing's not coming, etc., just like me. So this can be accomplished -- if X can do it, so can I."

And again, the high watermarks of any career may look good on the outside, but sometimes -- on the inside -- it's just an additional burden and a new tough row to hoe.

Paulo Coelho quotes a superb story on his website that can be applied to a deeper understanding of success or failure. Rather than lift it and put it here, I'll put the link here, and also in the "live link" part of my name.

http://paulocoelhoblog.com/2008/01/30/daily-message-186/

[dr.sue]

Thanks so much, T and Val!

And, Doug, thank you for the important reminder that "success" is not monolithic, as it may seem from the outside. The writer friend whose book does well may need our friendship and support now more than ever. Thanks for the linked story, too.