The Grass is Greener: Envy as an Artist in Middle Age

Goat picture for the “Grass is Greener” metaphor, Photo is mine.
These are Chewy and Beanie, my parents’ former goats who live at SAINTS in Mission BC.

It’s strange being an artist. I mean, as one’s vocation. There are few other professions where you have to be so on display. Visibility is required. You have to put yourself out there, show your face, be willing to be seen online to make authentic connections with followers who may then someday become clients and collectors.

You have to post your artwork and snippets of your life on Instagram, Facebook, etc, and since you’re going to be online to post there, you inevitably get sucked into browsing. From there, the comparisons start, and as we all know, comparison is the thief of joy. Moderating time on social media is important for our mental health, and I know folks that can afford to stay off it entirely, but… I need it for my art career to survive.  I need to post, and often. Much more often than I do!

I haven’t worked out a balance, yet. I still need to work a steady day job to make ends meet, because I don’t yet have it all together. I envy the artists who can make it work full-time. I envy the ones who even look like they do, even if they don’t. I envy the ones who have the energy to put themselves out there. I wish I had more willpower to stop my scrolling. So usually I stay away, stay off the apps, and then my art sales suffer. Obviously.

(This is going to sound a lot like I’m complaining, but, I’m actually not. I’m externalizing, processing some stuff. No victim card being played, there are positives for everything below. I am just sharing it here in hopes it lands with a few folks who read it and find it relatable)

So… what if, even as an artist with reasonable skill, your life doesn’t look like you thought you wanted it to look? What if you don’t have the house, the live-in partner, the backyard veggie garden with sunflowers and chickens? (Maybe even some goats in there for good measure)? What if you don’t have a lofty detached studio with French doors and a view of the sea? What if you don’t have a six figure income or gallery representation or an assistant, or a family member who handles all your accounting and marketing?

What if, instead, you rent a 100 sqft spare bedroom in your good friend’s condo with the back of a hedge for a view, and you’re still incredibly grateful to have even that option in this housing crisis? What if, in this situation, you’re experiencing some real housing security for the first time, maybe ever, and you get the privilege and comfort of living with with a very good platonic friend who is glad to be helpful and for your company?

Instead of the spacious studio with a view you dreamed of, what if you rent half of a tiny room in the basement of a very old house on the other side of the city? What if you’re actually making it work in these tiny spaces in spite of your messiest inclinations? What if there are rainbows on your walls every morning? What if you have everything you need to create already on hand?

Instead of children (which you wanted, but that’s another story) what if you have the memory of a beloved loyal dog who you love(d) more than life itself for 12 years?

What if that’s enough for right now, and between that, your job, your business, and your close friends, you don’t really feel like you need to keep looking for more/something different, and you’re a grown adult who can make her own decisions and not need society to dictate her life’s path??

Instead of the babies crying and teenage arguments, there is a background dull ache of disenfranchised grief. Sure, sometimes it’s lonely, but it’s also peaceful.

I won’t ever get to be a part of the cool mom club or fulfill my “biological destiny” or experience that kind of “love like nothing else” phenomenon that I will only ever hear about, but, I do get to sleep in if I want. (I can’t often sleep anyway, thanks midlife hormones… but I could lay about and drink tea anyway). There may not be baseball practice or dolls or play-doh, but for 12 years there was the dog park, a squeaky bone, and some mostly-intact slobber-covered plushies. Instead of grandchildren, one day, I will maybe have… another dog or two. Ah well.

With all this “free time” without kids or dogs or a full-time partner right now I get to work a lot on my mental health and personal growth. I get to paint a lot, and slowly build my career as an artist. I get to nurture/provide structure for my own inner child. I can let my ADHD and PMDD affect very few people, really, but myself, and even that’s getting a lot easier to manage, the more work I put in. Sometimes it’s been a lot to feed and clothe myself properly, so… it’s maybe all for the best.

But… I’m still a little envious of those with the families and the partners and the homes & gardens etc. Some would say all this envy makes me petty and selfish, even if these are things I’m “supposed” to want, but, if I write about it to process it and release it, I’m still self-indulgent (selfish), so, whatever. This is the hand I was dealt and I get to play it.

As I said I am not playing the victim card here, because there is an up-side to every down. A silver lining for the clouds, as they say. Two ways to this street. It’s just good to acknowledge both sides.

Any time I’ve awkwardly related my feelings of envy to a friend about their wonderful kids and/or partner and/or cute house or garden, they come back with their own comments. They say “Oh but we have our problems, no relationship is perfect” / “The rent/mortgage is a lot” / “I envy your freedom and free time” / “I envy your peace” and things like that. We say these things to make each other feel better. Part of our social code, it is a peace offering, and it works, to an extent.

And still. I have a very very different life from the one I thought I was signing up for as a younger person. I have a very different life from what other people have, those other people I see on Instagram. Because of course the algorithm shows me the stuff of my dreams. It wants me to stay dependent, and I do. I need to be on there post and interact with followers to keep my business afloat, and I get sucked in, sucked down.

It’s still hard to reconcile posting about my life, even when I’m happy with it. And currently I’m absurdly happy with it. I just… I guess I still have a few issues with being different. Of feeling like the weird one, the odd one out. Probably this is old stuff from grade school… something to talk about with my therapist maybe. One day I’ll get more comfortable sharing my small spaces, my messy desk. All in good time, a little at a time. Probably I need to post more behind the scenes just to prove a point that not everyone has it all. Bring a little realness.

I’ll get there, eventually.

In the meantime, it always looks like other people have it better. Yet they always have things they envy about others, too. It’s hard to recognize how good you have it sometimes. (A favourite expression of mine is: It’s hard to read the label from inside the bottle)

For everything you envy about someone, they likely have every reason to envy you back about something else. It’s pretty normal.

I don’t have advice on how to moderate time on social media as an artist without comparisons getting in the way. I still struggle with it. It’s draining to keep wishing you were someone else though, and it keeps you stuck.

Advice to self: if there’s something you want that’s attainable, break it down into steps and figure out how to move towards that and go get it. How can you approximate it, and get a little bit closer? If it’s not attainable, try not to waste your energy wishing things were different, and work with what you actually have.

It’s important to actively look for things to be grateful for, and even if you still have dreams to go after, you can learn to want what you already have. Sometimes it’s enough. Sometimes it’s plenty.