I am uncertain as to when Gal Gadot fan pages began to infiltrate the Instagram algorithm tracking my interests, and at what point I just accepted it. Anyhow, Ms, Gadot currently frequents my Explore page, and it is making me feel like crap.

An interesting phenomenon happens when a person from your hometown/country makes it big on an international level- it is both hopeful and exciting, and creates a whispering, simmering wish for them to epically fail. As if the person took something away from us by succeeding. There is an immediate desire to claim connection to them (sometimes with a sprinkle of embellishment), and to simultaneously question the legitimacy of their success. Oh, and envy- thick, sticky, green envy.

I am intimately familiar with jealousy as a former actor (and probably just as a woman who grew up in a society which profits off of female insecurities). Competition and comparison were key nutrients when I was an active player in the field of professional performance. I used to start my day consuming large portions of self doubt, insecurity, and a frantic desire to be somewhere I was not. Acting felt like a constant paradox to try and be ruthlessly authentic while also faking it till making it. Be you, but the you whom you would be if you had life figured out. No, not like that. Too thirsty. Try less thirsty, but also really authentic and connected to your truth. Not that truth, the other one, the one you want to live, but also be in the current moment.

People seeking a career in performance tend to have an insatiable need to be seen- usually because a much younger version of themselves was denied it. The need to be acknowledged and validated is a primal source of security which gives the child a sense their experience is real, and thus they are. Interestingly, when reality is intolerable and unacknowledged in childhood, the imaginary world becomes the only place that makes life survivable. In other words, the child’s experience yearns to be acknowledged and reflected back in its entirety. In the absence of such, the child searches for ways to have a sense of self, either through excelling in something, being very bad at something, or any other form of expression that feels definitive. In a room full of actors, the likeliest common denominator will be a heartfelt ache to be seen. Where a stage was not given, a stage will be sought.

Back to Gal Gadot.

Seeing images of her jovial flawless self, renders me deeply uncomfortable. She exudes such joy and effortlessness that I immediately feel the familiar pang of jealousy toward those I deem “have had it easy." I am not even referring to the unlikely unicorn who has made it through life unscathed, but rather those who learned to make it look good and not wear their struggle as a badge of honor. It’s the other paradox- have rich life experience but make it surprising because you seem so happy- which really messes with me. And she has that. More than her enviable exterior, I covet that ease. She makes life seem like a yogurt commercial where mine often feels like a late night infomercial for IBS medication.

Ah. The comparison of others’ showreels to my own backstage- remind me why we do this? Masochism? Tough love? In any case, it feels like hot garbage and is not fun.

Perhaps it is a good thing to identify covetable traits in others, even if just perceived, to see ourselves more clearly. Maybe Gal Gadot’s incessant presence on my IG is a reminder to validate my whole experience, and give myself the stage to express that. I am not an effortless person. Even my hair takes time and expensive product to make it somewhat manageable. I still am navigating being authentic with my aspirational self. And I still envy people.

Can we normalize not having it all figured out?

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Oh to be effortless