Is it okay for me to be jealous of my rich friends?

“When I first entered her world, it was hard not to fall in love with it.”

I grew up with enough money, in a nice house with an annual family holiday, but an understanding that the electricity bill could put Dad in a bad mood. Then, I experienced struggling with money while I was at university, living off two-minute noodles and sausage rolls from the service station.

I later enjoyed the comforts of financial security when I entered full-time employment (I could even afford the odd shopping centre massage!). But I’d never experienced the wonders of having too much money until I made a friend that was richer than I could ever fully process. 

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I think if you live a comfortable and privileged middle-class life, it’s hard to imagine what else money could provide. Sure, maybe it’d be nice to live in a mansion with a view but it’s hard to fully understand the freedom oodles of cash offers you.  

When I became mates with my financially blessed friend, it was immediately apparent we lived life differently. She didn’t catch public transport, she added every side possible to an UberEats order, and things like bills and work didn’t really exist to her, at least not in a way that mattered. 

She never had somewhere she needed to be, she didn’t have to navigate tricky bosses because she’d simply quit if they irritated her, and her time was always her own. When I first entered her world, it was hard not to fall in love with it. 

There was no such thing as a ‘special’ dinner – every night you could be at a fancy restaurant. There was no such thing as a silly amount of money to spend on a skirt, and everything suddenly felt possible. I felt like I was living a life worthy of Anna Wintour. I was attending dinners with multiple-sized forks on the table.

No financial concerns held her back from anything – from the frivolous, like a new pair of shoes, to the fabulous, like a week away in Paris. Meanwhile, while I’d never previously felt like money governed my life, I realised it did. 

While I was social, I only allowed myself a few outings a week because I simply couldn’t afford more. I also tended to avoid buying more than one coffee a day, no matter how much I was craving the caffeine hit. I also put up with all types of treatment from employers so I could continue affording to live in Sydney. 

Meanwhile, my rich friend didn’t have to deal with the mundane stuff like I did; an electricity bill couldn’t ruin her week. She was also incredibly generous with me, and she allowed me to tag along and get a glimpse into a life I’d only ever seen dramatised in television shows. A life where people actually had chefs living with them. 

But here’s the interesting thing – while perhaps our lives looked slightly different, all the same stuff still applied. She grappled with heartbreak, pain and finding her purpose in the exact same way I did. Maybe she was wearing Gucci while experiencing these feelings but otherwise, our desires were similar. 

I suppose all my life, I’ve in some way looked up to rich people (thank you, Gossip Girl). But when I found myself actually hanging out with them, I realised the benefits of being rich very quickly become normal and, therefore, not that exciting. Sure, it’s cool to buy three cups of coffee a day or go to a very fancy restaurant every night. But if it’s your normal, it is hard to always appreciate it.  

I also learnt that while the glitzy stuff was fun and tempting, the best times we had together were on my lounge re-watching reality television shows and eating cheap snacks from the fridge. The stuff that her money could buy very quickly became unimportant.

Let’s face it, going out to dinner is fun whether it’s at a five-star restaurant or a three-star one. Buying a new item of clothing is thrilling whether it’s $3,000 or $100 bucks, and sometimes being able to afford three coffees a day just ends up giving you the shakes. 

I think we often like to comfort ourselves by believing the truly rich are secretly miserable, but I can report she wasn’t miserable. Was she completely happy all the time? No. But are any of us? These days, I don’t find I get jealous over the material ‘stuff’ that other people have. Our friendship has taught me that’s all meaningless.

But I do feel envious of having enough money to truly control your time. Who wouldn’t be? What I take away most from having a very rich friend is while money can make life less stressful, it doesn’t protect you from all the other stuff. You can’t escape death, taxes or heartbreak.

This article was originally published on May 6, 2022.

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