EP 10 | Do You Secretly Envy Your Kids?

In this episode of the Women Are Not Okay podcast, Crystal explores the complex feelings of envy that can arise in motherhood, particularly when reflecting on the successes of one's children. She shares her personal journey of sacrifice and growth, emphasizing the importance of building a legacy for future generations. Crystal discusses how to navigate feelings of envy during the holidays and redefines what success and legacy mean in the context of personal growth and empowerment for women.

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Transcript

SPEAKER_00: 0:03

Welcome to Women Are Not Okay, the self-help podcast where we talk all things mental health, relationships, and mindfulness. Can you admit that you're not okay? Let's be real. Things are shifting. Our bodies, our identities, our mentality, and our relationships. Girl, it's time for us to reclaim our sense of peace, sanity, and well-being. I'm Crystal, and no, I'm not okay. See, that was easy. Let's get into it. Hi, I'm Crystal and welcome to episode 10 of the Women Are Not Okay podcast. So I'm gonna say something that might make a few of you clutch your Stanley Cups. Do you secretly envy your kids? Yeah I said it, because I do. I'm Crystal and I can fully admit I envy my daughter. Not because I'm not proud of her, I am, but because she's living the kind of confident, supported, self-assured life I didn't even know I could dream of at her age. Let's unpack that. The origin story. Let's rewind. We've all heard that saying you do more for your children than you had for yourself. And while that's true, we build our kids' lives based on a blueprint of what we had or what we lacked. Growing up, my mom was basically superwoman without the cape. She held it down for me and my dad with grace, grit, and a whole lot of love. I watched her do everything cook, clean, work, caregiving, and never complain. Well, at least not out loud. She was the blueprint. Then came the plot twist. My dad left after 23 years of marriage, right after I graduated high school. And just like that, my mom and I had to start all over. It was hard, but we had each other, and that bond, it shaped everything. I wasn't big on formal education at the time. I took classes here and there, tried to figure it all out. Eventually I went to medical assisting school. You remember those commercials about running the front office? Yeah, that was me. I started my healthcare career and kept saying one day I'll go back to school. But life happened. Finances, self-doubt, hanging out all the time, and that one day never came. Then I met my husband, and when the time came to discuss marriage, he was adamant that we wouldn't get married until he completed his bachelor's degree. I will admit at the time I was not the most understanding fiance. And I got a little mad about it, but thinking back, that was the smartest and bravest thing for him to do. I too tried to go back to school and didn't have the same drive and desire that he did, even though I wanted to have that piece of paper and have a career and not a job and my own financial independence. That's when I made myself a quiet promise. My child will finish school. My child will be secure. My child will have options. And let me tell you, from the moment my daughter could hold a crayon, I was talking about independence and education, probably before she even asked for juice. Watching her become everything you hoped. Fast forward to today. She did it. Two associates' degrees, one bachelor's, and this year, in May, she graduated with her master's degree and is now a speech language pathologist. A grown woman with a job that makes almost twice what I make in a year, and I couldn't be prouder, or slightly more jealous if I tried. But it's not about the paycheck. It's about the ease, the confidence, the way she walks through life like she knows she belongs in every room. Meanwhile, my generation, we were told to be grateful, to not ask for too much, to settle down and behave. I was told that one a lot. We weren't raised to want more, just make do. And seeing her thrive unapologetically is both breathtaking and better sweet. It's like watching the version of myself I never got to be, and I couldn't be more proud of her for that. I look at her and I see everything I wanted for myself confidence, stability, boundaries, and that fearless belief that she can. Envy or inspiration. So do I envy her? Hell yes, but in the best possible way. I envy her strength, her perseverance, her focus. She's the kind of person who makes hard things look easy even when they're not. I remember her calling me one day, stressed the hell out, saying she was rethinking her entire life. Drama queen moment for sure. And I told her, yes, it's hard, but it's worth it. And no one can take away what you're achieving. Watching her thrive, working, traveling, building a life, it's beautiful. And admittedly it stings a little because I didn't have that. But I gave it to her, and that's the part that gets me. I envy that she's living in a time when therapy isn't taboo, boundaries are actually celebrated, and women can speak openly about mental health without whispering. But I also admire that she's learned those things because we broke the cycles. The envy, it isn't resentment, it's reflection. It's me realizing how far we've come as women, mothers, and humans. And here's the truth. Envy can be a mirror. It shows you where your own hunger lives. It's not saying, I wish I had her life. It's whispering, it's not too late for yours. Reclaiming your own growth. And since it's Thanksgiving season, the time for gratitude, reflection, and a little chaos, I've been sitting with this a lot. I'm grateful that I was steadfast in wanting more for my child than I had for myself. Even when my own mental health was hanging on by a thread, my vision for her was clear. And now she's grateful too. She set a career, financial stability, goals at 25 that some people chased their whole lives for. And that's powerful as hell. My mother showed me how to love, honor, and sacrifice for my family. And yeah, I have regrets, but knowing I took care of my people and succeeded in that, that's worth this weight in gold. But here's the other side. Holidays bring out everything the joy, the love, the stress, the comparison, the why don't I have that moments? If the envy hits differently this season, if it's stings seeing your kids thrive while you're still finding your footing, that's okay. Maybe they've got the nicer house, the better partner, the fancy vacation picks, or the bank account that doesn't need CPR. You're allowed to feel that. Just don't live there. Flip the script. Instead of I don't have what they do, remind yourself, I help make that possible. Their stability came from your sacrifice, their abundance came from your grind. That's legacy work. So when you're sitting around the Thanksgiving table this year, trying not to cuss out your brother-in-law or cry into your stuffing, take a quiet moment. Check in with yourself. You can feel grateful and a little tender at the same time because being human means holding pride and pain in the same breath and still finding room for pie. That's what women are not okay became for me. My version of higher education. A degree in rediscovering myself with the major and doing what the hell feels right. This platform, this community, it's my way of creating what I didn't have. Purpose, connection, sisterhood. A space where we can admit I love my life, but I still want more. So maybe I envy my daughter's confidence, but I also celebrate my comeback. Because when your kids inspire you to rewrite your story, that's not envy. That's evolution. That's legacy. Envy isn't always ugly. Sometimes it's your compass pointing towards what's next. Gratitude and envy can coexist. You can love your life and still crave growth. Your child's success doesn't outshine yours, it expands it. Legacy isn't what you leave behind, it's what you build while you're still becoming. So here's a few takeaways. Envy isn't always ugly. Sometimes it's the push you need to evolve. It's okay to admit you wanted more. That's how you get it now. Your child's success doesn't diminish yours, it expands it, and you're allowed to grow right alongside them. So to every mom out there who's quietly wondering if it's wrong to envy your kids, you're not broken, you're human. And maybe you just raise someone so incredible that they remind you what's still possible for you. That's not envy, that's inspiration. And girlfriend, that's the work. It doesn't make you a bad mom. It makes you honest. It means you poured into someone so deeply that they bloomed. And now it's your turn. Ask yourself, what have I given my children that I still want for myself? And then go get it. Because thriving isn't just for the young, it's for the brave, the healing, the women who whisper, What about me? If this episode hit home, share it with a friend or just sit with it. You deserve to feel seen. You deserve to thrive. Until next time. Thanks for listening. Just so we're clear, I'm not a licensed medical health professional. I just pay really good ones who help me unpack all this chaos so I can come here and share it with you. Think of this as a pay it forward kind of thing. So until next time, protect your peace, set your boundaries, and remember it's okay to not be okay.