My Facebook news feed is a succession of splendid successes. Over the last couple of days, one of my friends has gleefully announced her engagement; another received over 200 “likes” after uploading a photo in which he jubilantly held his completed PhD thesis aloft; and several people have been delighted to declare that they have won places on prestigious graduate schemes or been promoted at work. This morning, someone posted the following triumphant status update: “I have mastered soufflés!”
I’m pleased that my friends are doing really well. They’re kind and talented people. They deserve loving relationships and wonderful careers. However, upon reading about their outstanding achievements, it’s difficult not to feel pangs of envy and a crushing sense of inferiority. “Why am I still a novice at making soufflés?”, I lament.