Find friends who share your values
Hi, Carolyn: Lately I find myself feeling resentful when wealthier friends talk about their latest travel excursions, expensive meals, massage therapists, renovation projects – things I can’t afford. They mean well and are good people, but they seem to have no idea how tough it is to come up with $500 for a car repair or how much I, too, would like to spend a week on a beach in Mexico.
I am grateful for what I have (modest house, intellectually and emotionally gratifying career, good health) and live within my means, but these feelings sometimes get the better of me. How do I deal with them? – K.M.
Well-meaning people can also be thoughtless bores.
A good story is a good story, whether its setting is posh or humble; conversations are set in ideas. When the setting constitutes most of what you’re getting from a story – this restaurant, that ski resort, whatever countertop material – then, sure, it’s possible you’re seeing things only through the filter of envy.
But I find it more likely that you’re being buffeted about by too many people patting themselves on the back.
Of course, there’s no virtue in blaming others for your problems, so do use this frustration to reaffirm your values and choices; goals have a way of fading to abstraction when you’re scrimping to fix your car.
However, there is virtue in waiting to speak until one actually has something to say – a virtue your friends might be lacking.
Try steering these conversations toward actual conversation. If that fails, keep an eye out for friends who are, like the things you value, “intellectually and emotionally gratifying.” Modesty’s nice, too.
Hi, Carolyn: I’m a 29-year-old who’s been in a happy, fulfilling relationship for three years. We have a daughter together, and he is the most nurturing, doting father I’ve ever met. He has a career, owns a house, and is very loving and respectful toward me, but my family refuses to accept him because, gasp!, he’s 20 years my senior. They worry he’ll pass away while I’m still “young,” and I’ll have to raise a child by myself.
How can I tell my family that I love this man immensely and would rather spend what time I’m alotted with him than never know him at all? – Ridiculously Happy
He’s your child’s father. Done, sold, Yahtzee! Your most powerful argument is the fact of a fait accompli. Encourage them to voice any objections they may have to his character. If there are none, then lay out their remaining options: They can rue your past, dread your future or join you in your happy here-and-now.