It is believed that one of the positive components of envy is recognition. And indeed, when someone claims that they envy us, we, of course, if we are friendly towards this person, try to hear in his words exactly this: “You're cool. I also want to become as cool as you.” It’s this kind of envy that we want to repost on Facebook or post on Instagram. This is exactly what we prefer to fantasize about when we buy, for example, a premium car and display it in front of the house for everyone to see. It is precisely this kind of envy that we ourselves try to declare when we praise another. But, being a specialist in the field of psychology, I always prefer to look where the people themselves, who come to me for support, are afraid to look or for various reasons refuse. And now... “Dima, you write so well, I envy you,” friends and colleagues comment on my articles. And, apparently, they expect me to burst into a grateful smile of happiness in response. And I’ll like this message of theirs. Well, of course I’ll like it. Where would we be without this in our time? But instead of joy and pleasure at such moments, I rather cringe in horror. And I will instinctively begin to look around, unconsciously calculating a route for escape. After all, envy, in my deep conviction, is an extremely destructive feeling. A person experiencing it is mobilized to protect his own self-esteem through destruction: of another, his success or relationships with him. If nothing happens of the above, then, as a rule, the envier begins to destroy himself, wrapping his aggression in a painful symptom or destructive behavior. This is why I am not happy when I hear such so-called compliments. They scare me. No matter how inadequate it may seem at first glance. However, if I still have a choice, I prefer that the person who envies me talks about envy, rather than presenting it in the form of flirtatious admiration. At least then I can have time to prepare (either for flight or fight). Otherwise, I am forced to waste invaluable time deeply analyzing what was said and deciding what to do next. However, for obvious reasons, people who experience this conscious or repressed feeling do not often agree to be as frank as I would like (I suspect that there will now be much fewer comments about envy of my writing talent). It’s like in the joke: “Does your dog let you get close to you?” “Of course.” Otherwise, how will it bite you? Hiding your own plans is a vital skill when waging any war. But okay, others. It is impossible to control them. What then should you do with your own envy? Declare it, avoid mentioning it, completely erase this word from your personal vocabulary, so as not to scare people? Or maybe something else? I prefer not to be an adviser in such things. It's a very sensitive topic. But, since I started, I’ll tell you how I deal with it myself, how I support clients and what I sometimes suggest to colleagues to do when sharing experiences. I proceed from the assumption that wherever there is inequality, and at least situational, but powerlessness in the face of attempts to eliminate it, envy arises. How strong this experience will be (and, as a result, how quickly and powerfully it will cause aggressive actions) depends on the individual, on his history and ability to reflect (that is, to discover his own feelings, desires and intentions). And, in the end, it depends on his ability to withstand anxiety for at least as long as desired, without relieving it in acting out actions. But if there is envy, there is a desire to destroy the other. In an attempt, I repeat, to protect my own self-esteem from destruction. After all, if there is no such thing, there will be no inequality or evidence that I am not good enough at anything. So, if you transfer destructive intentions from the plane of active or passive actions to the verbal plane (talks about this), legalizing your.