Ugly emotions come with the territory when you’re chasing a creative life. No one tells you that part. It’s not just doubt or burnout, it’s something even sneakier. Especially during a dry spell, when nothing seems to be working, one emotion tends to creep in louder than the rest…
Jealousy.
I’ve heard the quote “Comparison is the thief of joy” probably a thousand times. And sure, it’s easy to nod along when everything’s going well, when you’re in your groove, posting wins, and making progress. But when you’re stuck and feel like a failure? When your ideas aren’t clicking and your confidence is shrinking? That’s when comparison creeps in, and it doesn’t stay harmless for long.
It festers. It mutates. What started as comparison soon calcifies into jealousy.
And if you try to create from that place, your work will feel hollow. It might look polished on the surface, but it won’t sound like you. That’s chasing, not creating.
But the secret is, jealousy isn’t always the villain. In fact, if you learn to listen to it, jealousy might just be the thing that propels you toward your next creative breakthrough.
Jealousy isn’t random.
It feels like it is, though. It hits out of nowhere—scrolling through social media, hearing about a friend’s big opportunity, watching someone accomplish something you’ve barely dared to admit you want. Suddenly, there’s that tightness in your chest. You think, Why not me? And almost immediately, you feel guilty for even feeling that way.
But jealousy is directional. It points somewhere.
I remember exactly when this hit me. I was in a rough creative stretch of half-written scripts, scattered ideas everywhere, and nothing finished. Then one morning, I saw a post from a friend announcing they’d just sold a TV show.
I won’t lie, that jealousy hit hard. I closed Instagram in disgust, spiraling. Why them? Why not me? I wanted to be happy for them, but underneath, I felt that gnawing, hollow jealousy.
Later that day, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. But instead of brushing it off, I sat with it. And the answer wasn’t that they didn’t deserve it, they absolutely did. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized they’d been working harder than me for years. They weren’t just dreaming about selling a show; they were finishing scripts, pitching relentlessly, taking rejection after rejection, and showing up again.
The real reason I was jealous wasn’t because they got lucky. It was because they had the discipline and follow-through I’d been avoiding. My jealousy wasn’t about them at all. It was about me and my unfinished scripts, half-hearted efforts, and fear of really committing.
That was the first time I started to see jealousy as something useful. A clue.
Psychologists have actually studied this. Niels van de Ven and his colleagues distinguish between benign envy and malicious envy. Benign envy—the kind that motivates you to improve—leads to what they call “moving‑up motivation,” while malicious envy drives you to pull others down. That gut-punch feeling you get when you see someone else’s success isn’t just noise, it’s a clue pointing toward what you secretly want. Benign envy says, Yes, that’s what I want too. If they can do it, maybe I can too.
But most of us are taught to treat jealousy like a dirty secret. We panic, shut it down, and miss the message it’s trying to deliver.
What if you treated jealousy like a map?
Instead of running from it, ask: What is this really pointing me toward? What does this success represent to me?
You shouldn’t copy someone else’s path. But you should be gathering honest, sometimes uncomfortable, information about what you’re really hungry for, and what you’ve been too afraid to pursue.
Every time you feel that sharp pang, you’re being handed a clue. You can either slam the door on it, or you can follow it.
Jealousy tricks you into believing there’s only room for one winner.
That’s why it feels so personal when someone around you succeeds. It feels like the door just slammed shut behind them, leaving you outside. But every win you witness isn’t a closed door. It’s an open one. It’s proof that what you want is possible.
We tend to see success as scarce, like there’s a limited number of seats at the table. But creative careers rarely work like that. In fact, success often expands possibilities for everyone around it.
I’ve seen this firsthand. I’ve watched friends sell shows or sign big deals. In the moment, it stings, of course it does. But every one of those moments has also shifted my thinking. They expanded the size of the room. Suddenly, something I’d filed away as a distant dream wasn’t so distant anymore. It was right there, happening to someone I knew, someone who had once been exactly where I was.
If it’s possible for them, it’s possible for me too.
This is where jealousy quietly transforms. What starts as bitterness can become possibility.
You can see someone else’s win as something they took from you. Or you can see it as evidence. Evidence that the thing you want is real, attainable, and already within reach.
But this shift takes intention. You have to let go of the story that says success is a zero-sum game. You have to remind yourself that this isn’t proof you’re behind, it’s proof that what you want is possible.
Your proximity to success isn’t an accident. If someone in your circle has reached that next level, chances are you’re closer to it than you think.
Jealousy is energy.
It feels draining, but only if you let it sit stagnant. At its core, jealousy is just a surge of focus, longing, and attention. It’s heat. And like any heat, you have a choice. You can let it burn you up, or you can learn to harness it.
You already know what happens if you let jealousy fester. It spirals into self-pity, bitterness, and paralysis. But what if, instead of drowning in it, you used jealousy as fuel?
Whenever it creeps in, ask yourself:
What can I do right now to move toward what I want?
Maybe it’s finishing that script. Maybe it’s reaching out for advice. Maybe it’s just taking a tiny, concrete step toward momentum.
Jealousy can also fuel curiosity. Instead of obsessing over why them, ask how them. What do they consistently do? How do they handle setbacks? What risks are they taking that you’re avoiding? Not to copy them, but to learn what it really takes.
Instead of letting jealousy make you small, let it make you bold. Let it push you out of your comfort zone and into the work.
Because in the end, jealousy isn’t your enemy. It’s just information. A flashing arrow, pointing toward the places inside you that still want more. More freedom, more creativity, more growth.
And you get to choose what you do with that information.
You can shrink from it.
Or you can rise to meet it.
Keep creating and repeating,
Zack
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Create.Repeat is a community for creatives.
The Create.Repeat Substack is a project designed to be a weekly diary on creativity. Sharing inspiration for artists to keep creating and repeating.
Written and curated by Zack Evans & James Warren Taylor
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History repeats. Create the future.
