There’s a green-eyed serpent that slithers through the corridors of our hearts—quiet, subtle, and venomous. It doesn’t roar or stamp its feet. It doesn’t come with fangs bared or claws unsheathed. Instead, it arrives dressed in silk, whispering into our ears while we scroll through social media or sit in the shadows of someone else’s spotlight.

It begins with a glance, a sigh, a harmless wondering: Why them, not me? And from there, it grows. Like ivy on a stone wall, it climbs into your thoughts, wraps around your self-worth, and squeezes. That corrosion has a name. Two names, in fact: envy and jealousy. Twins in temperament. Cousins of discontent. Shadows of our darker selves. And though they visit everyone—yes, even the most saintly—they must not be allowed to unpack their bags and stay.

Envy is the ache of what you lack. Jealousy, the fear of what you might lose. One fixates on the prize you do not have. The other clings tightly to what you do. Both are thieves. Envy steals joy. Jealousy steals peace. Together, they rob you of the life you are meant to live.

Why are they so dangerous? Because they pretend to be harmless. Envy dresses itself in the costume of motivation—just a little comparison to push you forward, it whispers. Jealousy drapes itself in the robe of love—I just care too much, that’s all. But both are liars. Neither seeks your growth. They only seek your ruin.

To envy another is to betray your own journey. It is to take your eyes off your own lane and lock them, obsessively, on someone else’s path. It is to plant bitterness where there should be blooming. You become a spectator in your own life, forever measuring your worth against the rulers of others. And the strange thing is—no matter how much you achieve, envy will always find someone ahead of you. Richer. Prettier. More talented. More liked. It will whisper, Look at them. And then, Look at you. And you will shrink.

Jealousy, too, is an insidious thing. It breeds mistrust. It soils love. It whispers suspicions into your ears, curdles affections, and turns the warmth of care into the ice of possessiveness. It is not love that checks phones and interrogates glances—it is fear masquerading as devotion. Jealousy wraps its arms around what it claims to protect and squeezes until it chokes the very thing it meant to cherish.

But perhaps the most treacherous thing about envy and jealousy is that they feel justified. They feel right. And that is why they are so rarely confessed. People will admit to anger. To pride. To laziness. But not to envy. Not to jealousy. Those are too petty, too dark, too embarrassing to own. So we nurse them in secret. We smile in public and simmer in private. We clap for others with hollow hands. We smile through gritted teeth. We compliment what we secretly resent. And all the while, something inside us withers.

And still, we must not entertain them.

Because every moment spent envying is a moment stolen from your own joy. Every jealous thought is a drop of poison in the well of your relationships. Nothing beautiful grows where envy is planted. No trust survives where jealousy reigns. These emotions rot from within. They fester. And eventually, they burst.

But here is the secret: you can fight them. You can notice them creeping in and shut the door in their faces. You can rewire the way you see the world. You can learn to celebrate others without questioning your own worth. Their success is not your failure. Their light does not dim yours. And if they seem to shine more brightly than you? Let it inspire you, not injure you.

Gratitude is your weapon. Appreciation is your shield. Self-awareness, your torch. When you feel envy rising, ask: What am I missing in my own life that makes me long so hungrily for theirs? When jealousy pricks your heart, ask: What fear is hiding beneath this need to control? Ask the hard questions. Answer them with courage.

And never forget—envy is never about them. Jealousy is never about them. It’s about you. It’s about the bruises you haven’t healed, the insecurities you haven’t faced, the validation you’re still seeking in mirrors not your own. Heal those. Tend to those. Water your own garden until you have no reason to stare longingly into someone else’s.

We all feel it. The pang. The flicker. The twist. We are human. But we are also capable of choice. And each time envy knocks, you can choose not to answer. Each time jealousy flares, you can cool it with truth. You are enough. And the more you believe that, the less room envy will have to grow.

So let us rise above it. Let us root it out wherever we find it. Let us be honest about it, brave enough to confront it, strong enough to overcome it. Let us not sit in its company, let us not sip from its cup. For it is bitter, even when it tastes sweet. It is hollow, even when it feels full. It is a trap. A thief. A tormentor in disguise.

Walk away from it. Run, even.

And live free.