I never thought envy was a problem for me. I really didn’t.
When I discovered the Enneagram personality typing system a few years ago, it was scary how correct most of it was — both the flattering parts and the ugly parts. But descriptions I read said the “deadly sin” or passion of the Type 4 was envy.
“That couldn’t be me,” I thought, “because I don’t feel jealous of other people. I don’t wish bad things on those who have more than I do. I’m happy for those who do well.”
I didn’t give it much thought, because I was so certain it didn’t apply to me. But I’ve recently had to rethink that. It’s been painful. I’ve had to accept that what Shakespeare called “the green sickness” is hiding in my heart and eating at me.
It was hard to admit this to myself. I’m humiliated to admit it to you.