Outgrowing Jealousy & Embracing Aligned Connections

When Jealousy Finds Its Way Into the Light

There’s a strange tension that exists when you’re a naturally bright, intuitive leader. You know — the kind of person who people come to for advice, emotional clarity, perspective. The one they call “wise beyond your years,” “the therapist,” “the old soul.” The one who somehow always knows what to say, even when you’re falling apart yourself.

I’ve lived enough life to know: people will often follow those they believe in. I’ve had people genuinely recognize the light in me — even refer to me as an oracle at times. They’ve respected my words, soaked in my advice, and leaned into the peace I bring. But over time, I’ve also witnessed a quieter shift… one that’s hard to name but impossible to ignore.

Suddenly, what felt like admiration starts to twist into something else. The air changes. The energy gets dense. They become more reactive, more competitive, more distant — like my evolution suddenly made them uncomfortable. Like watching me grow started reflecting something in them they hadn’t dealt with yet.

And the hardest part? These were people I genuinely poured into. People I wanted to see win. But jealousy is insidious — it doesn’t show up with horns and red eyes. It shows up in microaggressions. In side-eyes. In being oddly quiet during your wins. In subtle comments that question your choices, your confidence, your joy.

And because I’m wired for peace and understanding, I kept giving. I kept helping. I thought maybe if I just stayed kind, stayed soft, it would smooth over. But the truth is — I didn’t have boundaries. I overfunctioned. I let people sit too close without requiring emotional maturity in return.

Part of it was people-pleasing, yes. But another part of it was this unconscious belief that being needed meant being loved.

And eventually, that backfired.

I found myself surrounded by people who respected my mind but couldn’t handle my rise. They took my peace and logic but got uneasy around my progress. And I began to question, What am I doing wrong? Why does it feel like people fall away every time I grow?
Especially when I’ve always given love, clarity, and good energy?

What I’ve learned is this:

Jealousy isn’t always loud. It’s not always obvious. Sometimes it’s silent. Sometimes it smiles at you. Sometimes it claps in public but rolls its eyes in private. And it hurts, especially when it comes from people you believed in — people you thought would ride with you.

But it’s not your fault.

You didn’t do anything wrong by evolving. You didn’t do anything wrong by shining.
You’re just becoming more of who you’re meant to be, and not everyone is equipped for proximity to that light.

The lesson for me and maybe for you too is this:

• Don’t shrink to stay palatable.

• Don’t overextend to stay needed.

• Don’t internalize their discomfort as your wrongdoing.

You can be full of love and still misunderstood. You can be peaceful and still projected on. And you can be a healer without being a dumping ground.

I enter this next phase surrounded by people who don’t flinch when I rise.
People who love my light not just because it helps them see, but because it reminds them of their own.
People who walk beside me — not behind me, not secretly competing but beside me, with mutual respect, joy, and celebration.

And I know now, it starts with me.

I had to lead with boundaries.
Let people earn proximity.
Detach from being everyone’s safe place.
And finally allow myself to be received, not just leaned on.

Because I’ve grieved friendships every phase of my life. I’ve seen groups fall off like leaves in autumn. And that loss, it’s real. It’s heavy. I won’t sugarcoat that. We all want companionship that stays. Especially when we’re used to being the strong one.

But I believe now this time around, I’m not calling in followers. I’m calling in allies.
People who support without fear. People who cheer without comparison. People who see me and still stay.

And while peace is my solitude, I still crave that community. That genuine, sacred sisterhood. That chosen family. I believe I’m meant to experience it, not just witness it in others.

You don’t need hundreds. You just need real ones.