Jealousy Is a Powerful Ally-If We Listen

(Part 3)

What Jealousy is Actually Trying to Say

Jealousy isn't a single, isolated emotion. It is usually the face of several more complex feelings wearing the same mask. When it surfaces, it can be a manifestation of many different things:

•     A reminder of how deeply you value your partner.

•     A sign that you have stopped actively expressing that value.

•     Fear of abandonment disguised as possessiveness.

•     A signal that complacency has quietly crept into your relationship.

•     A jarring reaction to realizing your partner is still an independent human being with the Reality that as they choose to be with us, they could also choose to let us go.

•     An invitation to examine your own insecurities, instead of treating the emotions they trigger as proof that something is wrong with the relationship.

Most of us instinctively look outward when jealousy strikes, examining our partner’s behavior long before we examine our own internal fears. That reaction is entirely understandable, but real personal growth usually begins the moment we choose curiosity over defensiveness.

Character isn’t built when when we have learned to allow uncomfortable emotions long enough to actually find a growth as we sit with them. The person who chooses curiosity over avoidance gains something far more valuable than temporary certainty—they gain deep self-awareness, even when there isn't a clean or easy answer.

How to Process and Unpack Jealousy

If you find yourself overwhelmed by jealousy, the first step is to slow everything down. Grab a pen and write. Don’t start by trying to fix or solve the relationship; start by trying to understand yourself.

Ask Yourself the Simple Yet Hard Questions

Begin by identifying the exact emotions beneath the surface. Ask yourself: What am I actually feeling right now? Am I angry? Hurt? Embarrassed? Afraid? Unwanted? Replaced?

The more specific your answers become, the less overwhelming the jealousy feels. A singular, giant emotion suddenly breaks down into several manageable, understandable pieces.

Next, look closely at your fear and evaluate it using the F.E.A.R. acronym:

•     F – False

•     E – Expectations

•     A – Appearing

•     R – Real

Ask yourself: Am I actually being abandoned in reality, or am I confronting old, unhealed wounds? Am I responding to my current partner, or am I reacting to someone from my past? Keep peeling back those layers. Then, if possible, bring what you’ve discovered back into the relationship. That raw vulnerability is often exactly where true intimacy begins.

The Core Contradiction of Independence

When we first meet someone, we are deeply attracted to their independence. We fall for their confidence, their unique passions, their friendships, their ambition, and their distinct individuality. Yet, years later, we often begin treating those exact same qualities as active threats.

Somewhere along the way, the internal narrative shifts to: “If my partner truly loves me, they shouldn’t want or need anyone else.” Or we're able to be honest enough to recognize, they may have attraction to others, but if they acted on it, it attracts from the relationship, even shows disrespect.

A real fear might not be stemming from their desire of others, but from our own.

We know how much our eyes wander, the internal comments being made or out loud with friends. We know how far we've followed those interest as well, and that might actually make us more jealous as we fear they will act the same way.

When the power is to use that as common ground to soften and relate with your partner.

Or any number of largely unexamined I'm frankly juvenile emotions let to run rampant.

And we allow ourselves, as does our partner, to keep them on a tight leash. With too much slack, who knows what they would do! But when your partner is only faithful i because that leash is so short resentment will build, desires grow, and become worked into obsessions even, and when eventually they have some room, maybe a couple that with an argument or being criticized by your partner, and they do end up cheating, hiding it, allowing it to drive the relationship further and further apart.

That isn’t real security. That is just fear disguised as control.

The Fantasy of the "All-in-One" Person

Many couples eventually discover that attraction changes over time. This isn't because love disappears, but because life happens. Stress, bills, illness, children, familiarity, and time all take a toll. Yet, we still unfairly expect a single human being to be our greatest lover, best friend, therapist, adventure partner, intellectual equal, emotional home, and lifelong source of intense excitement. That is an impossible job description for any one person to fulfill.

What I Learned About Trust and Awakening Jealousy

My ex-husband was one of the most important people I’ve ever loved. I didn’t fall in love with him because he was the hottest man I’d ever seen; I fell in love because I knew he was someone who would have my back no matter what, and he knew I would have his.

There was an incredible sense of safety between us. We could be completely vulnerable because neither of us believed the other would intentionally cause harm. It felt like a relationship that deserved a title bigger than just "boyfriend" because it played such a massive role in my life. I remember thinking, I would be proud to raise children with this man. That was my true desire. My previous relationships had already taught me that the intense, passionate beginning never lasts forever. What remains—and what matters—is trust.

When Jealousy Becomes Useful

One specific experience completely flipped my perspective on jealousy. After my partner and I invited a third person into our relationship, something unexpected happened. For the next couple of weeks, our own sex life became more passionate than it had been in months.

Part of it came from the shift in perspective—seeing my partner through someone else’s eyes. Instead of spiraling into the fear that someone might take what I had, I found myself thinking, I get to have what other people want. It was surprisingly attractive.

The biggest shift, however, came from absolute honesty. We weren’t pretending that attraction to other people didn’t exist. We acknowledged it openly together, making it something we chose to navigate as a team rather than a secret hidden in the shadows. Reassurance, eye contact, and making sure the other felt included became deeply intimate acts.

Oddly enough, that spark came from a form of jealousy—not destructive jealousy, but an awakening jealousy. It was a visceral reminder that this person wasn’t guaranteed to be mine forever. That realization didn’t make me cling tighter; it made me appreciate him more and reminded me to keep showing up intentionally.

When Non-Monogamy Goes Poorly

Of course, these experimental experiences don’t always go well. Early in our relationship, my ex-husband and I had an experience where everything completely fell apart.

I wasn’t especially interested in the third person, but because I knew he was excited, I wanted to support him. Unfortunately, the third person wasn’t very interested in me either, and before long, almost all of the attention shifted entirely toward the two of them. I slowly stopped participating, and nobody noticed. I stepped outside to get some air; nobody came after me. I came back inside, and still, nothing. Eventually, I got dressed and said I’d wait outside, and my partner simply agreed.

Only a few minutes later, he came outside, clapped his hands, and said, “Okay, we’re done.” He genuinely couldn’t understand why I was hurt.

Yet, that painful moment led to one of the healthiest conversations we’d ever had. Neither of us knew yet what I needed in that situation, or what proper reassurance looked like. Sometimes, these boundary-pushing experiences don’t actually reveal relationship problems—they reveal core needs you didn’t even know you had.

How to Ask for What You Don't Understand

How do you ask for something when you don't even understand it yourself? It’s incredibly difficult when all you feel is raw anger, hurt, or rejection. When you are stuck there, instead of beginning the conversation with what went wrong, try beginning with what would have felt right:

1.     Describe your ideal outcome.

2.     Articulate how you would have wanted to feel afterward.

3.     Work backward through the experience.

4.     Notice the exact moments where reality separated from your desired ending.

When talking with your partner, focus on describing actions and the specific feelings they created. Avoid throwing accusations or bringing unrelated past situations into the discussion, and give your partner space to explain things from their perspective. If both people genuinely care about each other’s experience, these conversations will strengthen the relationship rather than weaken it.

Confronting the Real Problem: Old Wounds and Stories

One of the biggest lessons I eventually learned was that feeling jealous doesn’t automatically mean your partner has done something wrong. It requires immense maturity to step back from powerful emotions and ask whether your internal reaction actually matches the external reality.

Eventually, that journey led me toward compersion—the capacity to find genuine joy in someone else’s joy. I realized I wanted my partner to feel desired, appreciated, and fully alive, even when those experiences weren’t centered around me.

Learning to love someone that way wasn’t easy. My partner’s autism spectrum disorder sometimes made it difficult for him to express love in the ways I naturally understood it, but watching him slowly open up while receiving unconditional support became rewarding in a completely different way. I don’t think I could have loved like that in my twenties. Multiple long-term relationships, losing my mother, and simply getting older completely changed what love meant to me. For a while, I wanted to offer him the kind of grace my mother had always shown me. Giving that kind of love felt entirely different than fleeting passion—it felt peaceful.

Letting Go of the "Not Enough" Narrative

Ultimately, I realized my jealousy was never really about my partner. It was about me. For years, I carried a core belief that if people looked closely enough, they’d eventually discover I wasn’t enough.

As a go-go dancer, I worried people only liked me under perfect lighting. During modeling shoots, I’d think, “These four photos look great… but nobody sees the other eight hundred bad ones.” Even while people were actively paying to watch me perform, I secretly believed acceptance was entirely conditional.

That story started long before any adult relationship; it started with years of childhood bullying. Then puberty happened, and girls suddenly liked me—and later, men did too. Somewhere along the way, I internalized the rule that I’d better stay attractive, funny, and entertaining, or eventually, people would leave. That wasn’t a relationship issue; it was an old wound.

Thankfully, that story has changed. My thirties were spent actively rebuilding my confidence, and my forties have been the strongest I’ve ever felt.

The Ultimate Takeaway on Love and Insecurity

Monogamy isn’t a cure for insecurity, and neither is non-monogamy. Both relationship styles will expose the exact same foundational fears. The real question isn’t whether your partner can promise they’ll never leave you; the real question is whether your sense of personal worth depends entirely on that promise. Insecurity doesn’t disappear when someone guarantees they’ll stay. It begins to disappear when you stop needing that guarantee to believe you are already enough.

By tightening the leash on your partner, asking where and who they’re with, the urge to check their phone, all tell you the trust is gone or never has been developed.

And will drive a wedge between couples even where neither partner is going out behind the other. Often times resulting in the accused saying I might as well if I’m constantly being punished for it anyway.

It’s not an honest, sustainable way to exist together, simply just sets the self-destruct timer.

One of my favorite personal philosophies for friendships and relationships alike is this: I’m never going to beat down anyone’s door to try and get them to hang out with me. If you aren’t naturally drawn to what I’m offering, and you can’t bring yourself to celebrate our differences, to celebrate me, then by all means absolutely move on. 

I actively seek to celebrate and place my partners on a pedestal because I have met some genuine, standout humans, and they deserve it. And I deserve it, too. As the poet Rumi wisely said:

    “Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”

This applies to all of life. You are not your past, and you are not living in some hypothetical future idea yet. Decide who you want to be for your partner and yourself right now, and just set out.

Our elders share the wisdom all the time that you have to fall in love with your partner again and again and again over the years, because you both change so much.

Learning to Navigate Commitment Solo

I eventually had to leave my brand-new, amazing husband because my mom passed away and I didn’t like who I had become in my grief. I felt horrible putting his kind heart through it anymore. I was absolutely tortured by the fear that I was making the wrong decision, and I didn’t know how long I could wait to see if I would ever find my way back to "me" without my primary tether to the world. I was truly unmoored.

With quite a few personal training clients over the age of 70 at the time, I had access to some incredible life resources. One of them was a retired doctor in his early 80s who was a total player in his retirement complex! My polar opposite, he loved to push back against me, and our discourse was great. He warned me that I could absolutely be making a mistake by divorcing someone I was so committed to and excited for not long before. But at the end of the day, he said, “It’s just not gonna matter. You just have to make a decision, go forward, and life will go on.” It was hard to hear, but it meshed with my foundational philosophy: act with integrity and your own faculties, and don’t crowdsource your decision-making.

Then again, the Libra in me always finds the opposite side of the scale. Another pair of my training clients was a gay couple who had been together for close to 40 years—the older of the two having had a 15-year relationship before that! I asked them what the longest period of "shit" was in their relationship. They told me they had a third in the relationship for five years (which was longer than any of my single relationships), and then the younger of the two lost his grandmother and didn’t leave the house for five years, becoming a miserable shut-in. He stayed through all of it, and today they are absolutely each other’s best friends.

I just don’t know that our modern culture is built for that level of commitment anymore—flat out. Even me, with my hardcore ideals and search for integrity. Given my values at 44, having been partnered with some amazing humans, it’s going to take a lot more for me to reach that level of commitment again. And if I do, I am totally open to it.

I think growing up as an only child raised by a single mom made me incredibly good at operating solo. I can live life very differently than most. It makes it easy for me to have real, raw conversations with strangers, who completely open up when they feel my total lack of judgment and how easily I seek to bridge our shared humanity.

Perhaps that’s why Libras are often considered the most bisexual sign of the zodiac; our overarching love of beauty draws us to many unique places, personalities, and connections—at least for those who sense that energy and allow themselves to connect.