We’ve all heard it before: “If your partner gets jealous, it’s because they love you.”
Sounds romantic, right?
As if jealousy itself were some kind of proof of deep devotion.
But is it really?
Now, really?
Or is it actually a sign of something much darker, fear, insecurity, control? And not darker in a romantasy book kind of way.
Today, I’ll talk to you about this very question. Let’s see if this jealousy thing is truly a romantic virtue or not.
what are we really talking about when we talk about jealousy?
First things first, the basics. Jealousy is an emotional response to a perceived threat.
It’s the little voice in your head whispering, What if they leave me? or What if someone better comes along?
Creepy, huh?
It’s an unsettling mix of fear, insecurity, and possessiveness, often disguised as love. And while it’s true that jealousy can exist in any romantic relationship, what differentiates a normal, manageable level from something destructive?
Good question.
Normal vs. Pathological Jealousy
Not all jealousy is unhealthy. In fact, some level of jealousy is natural. It’s like that twinge of discomfort when you see your partner laughing a little too much with someone else. You know that feeling.
It’s the slight pang in your stomach when they talk about an ex. Grrr.
This kind of jealousy is manageable, it doesn’t take over your thoughts or dictate your actions.
Then there’s the other kind.
Ughhh.
The kind that consumes.
The kind that makes you check their phone, question their every move, and interpret innocent gestures as betrayals.
Uh-uh.
This pathological jealousy is like an “intruder in the mind,” a parasite that grows, feeding on fear and insecurity. Unlike normal jealousy, which can be a passing emotion, pathological jealousy takes root.
It distorts reality, creating problems where none exist.
a story that sums it up
In the book I recommended to you in the previous newsletter, Encounters: The B-Side of Love (Encuentros: El Lado B del Amor) by psychoanalyst Gabriel Rolón, there’s a story that perfectly illustrates what I’m trying to say.
The book shares the story of Sebastián and Lucía, a couple who came to therapy because of Sebastián’s uncontrollable jealousy.
You see, at first, Lucía thought it was sweet (like we all do), he just loved her so much! Right?
But soon, his jealousy turned into interrogations, accusations, and rules.
Who was she texting?
Why did she take so long at the supermarket?
Why did she wear that dress?
And then…
Lucía started modifying her behaviour (big mistake).
She avoided certain friends (dangerous mistake).
She stopped wearing outfits she loved (horrible mistake).
She deleted contacts from her phone just to avoid a fight (gigantic mistake, right on the edge).
And yet, Sebastián’s jealousy didn’t ease. Because, as Rolón explains in his book, pathological jealousy is never satisfied. Never. It demands more and more proof of loyalty, yet never feels reassured (because it’s pathological, not healthy).
It is a bottomless pit of insecurity disguised as love. It will never be enough.
a more relatable scenario
Now, let’s talk about everyday jealousy. Something more ordinary.
Imagine Tom and Sarah, a couple who’ve been together for five years.
Sarah loves socialising, she enjoys going out with friends, and she has a naturally warm personality. You know, a bubbly person.
Tom, on the other hand, is more introverted and tends to feel uneasy when Sarah is out without him.
And then…
It starts with subtle comments, Why do you always have to go out? or You looked really happy talking to that guy at dinner.
Slowly, Tom’s insecurity creeps into their relationship.
At first, Sarah reassures him (a mistake that comes from genuine love, but a mistake nonetheless).
She sends texts while she’s out (big mistake).
She avoids certain friends just to keep the peace (dangerous mistake).
But as the months pass, she starts feeling trapped, like her freedom is being taken away (we saw that one coming, didn’t we?).
She’s not cheating, she’s not even doing anything remotely inappropriate, yet Tom’s jealousy keeps growing.
This isn’t love, it’s fear in disguise.
Careful with this one, because it’s not as obvious or extreme as the first example. And it’s easy to fall into a situation like this. Mainly because it is so… subtle. So subtle that you won’t even notice.
the root of jealousy
So, if jealousy isn’t really about love, what is it about?
…
…
…
…
…
Come on.
…
Yes.
Fear.
The fear of not being enough.
The fear of abandonment.
The fear of being replaced.
And here’s the uncomfortable truth, the meaning of jealousy says more about the person feeling it than the one they are jealous of.
Let’s repeat that: jealousy says more about the person feeling it than the one they are jealous of.
Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis, identified jealousy as a manifestation of deeper unconscious conflicts.
According to Freud, jealousy often stems from childhood experiences of rivalry, particularly in relationships with parents or siblings. Interesting. I’ll talk more about this in future newsletters.
A child who felt they had to compete for love and attention may grow into an adult who perceives romantic relationships in the same way, as something fragile that can be taken away at any moment.
Freud also described jealousy as having three layers. Let’s see:
The first is competitive or normal jealousy, which arises when a real external threat to the relationship exists.
The second is projected jealousy, where a person accuses their partner of behaviour they themselves have considered or repressed.
The third and most profound level is delusional jealousy, which has no basis in reality but stems from deep-seated insecurities and unresolved unconscious conflicts.
Freud’s theory also suggests that jealousy is linked to repressed desires. Sometimes, the jealous person is unknowingly projecting their own unconscious impulses onto their partner (this is the funniest of all, and very common, I must say).
For example, someone who experiences jealousy over their partner’s interactions with others might, deep down, be struggling with their own repressed attraction to others.
Rather than confronting their own desires, they externalise them as jealousy. They project it onto the other.
Funny, huh?
What?!!! You don’t think it’s funny?
My bad… Horrible sense of humour… I know.
so, can jealousy be managed?
The short answer? Yes, but.
Ha ha.
But it takes work.
Recognising jealousy as an issue is the first step. Super hard step, by the way.
Then comes the ultra hard part, understanding its roots and addressing the insecurities that fuel it.
How?
Therapy, self-reflection, and open communication with a partner are key.
For those experiencing jealousy, I’d suggest asking: What am I really afraid of? and Is this fear based on reality or past wounds?
Freud would encourage an even deeper analysis, looking at childhood experiences and repressed emotions that may be at play. By shifting the focus from controlling a partner’s actions to understanding one’s own fears, jealousy loses its power. Promise.
For those dealing with a jealous partner, boundaries are essential. A must. And certainly, not accepting their irrational demands, like in the examples we saw before. Basically, because it doesn’t work and it doesn’t solve the problem, it makes it worse.
Love is not about proving loyalty through sacrifice. It’s about mutual respect, trust, and freedom.
Jealousy is often mistaken for love, but in reality, it is love’s opposite.
Where love nurtures, jealousy suffocates.
Where love trusts, jealousy controls.
Because in the end, a healthy relationship isn’t about eliminating every possible threat, it’s about building trust so strong that threats become irrelevant.
And that is real love.
Food for thought.
Love,
Noemi
P.S.: If Gabriel Rolón’s book has caught your attention, you can find it here: Encuentros (El Lado B del Amor) (only in Spanish for now).
