I Met David at My Friend’s Art Show

I met David at my friend’s art show.

He was photographing the event for his friend’s magazine. He was handsome and kind and he talked about how he and his friend wanted to “go big” and “make stuff happen in the world.”

I admired that about him. We started dating soon after meeting. Not long after that, the magazine, which was originally dedicated to showcasing local artists around the city, took a turn in a different direction.

One of their female friends had started her own lingerie line and asked if they could do a piece on them. They got more views on that story than any other, so they decided to partner and give the magazine a more raunchy style—underwear models and up and coming influencers—all local, “to help give visibility to rising talent,” David said.

At first, I was fine with it. David even told me to come along to one of the shoots and I knew some of the girls from our circle. The whole day was a lot of fun and we all went out for drinks after.

But, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t start to get to me.

These girls were gorgeous. Wouldn’t any person who is interested in women be turned on, tempted, excited at the thought of being around beautiful, half naked women all day?

How could you not be jealous?

I couldn’t help but wonder if David wished I looked like them. If he liked to photograph these models because they were unattainable, while I was something he could get any old day.

I wanted to be as sexy as them. I wanted to feel like I was desirable in that way.

I started to act jealous. Every time David and his friend would post a photo on their social feed, I’d find the girl’s account and creep her, trying to see if David had commented on any of her photos.

I’d sit at home working by myself, thinking about how he was at these photoshoots laughing, flirting with gorgeous women. If he’d come home late, I’d ask him a million questions.

When David and I talked about how it was becoming difficult for me, he always reassured me. He told me that it was just a job. Since he was around it so much, he’d become desensitized to it.

“Honestly,” he’d say, “it’s more tiring than anything.”

I wanted to believe him. And I did.

I decided to take it as an opportunity to look inside and ask myself what was really going on with my jealousy.

Did I have so little faith in David, in men, that they couldn’t be around a beautiful woman without wanting to sleep with her?

Did I believe that David cared more about looks than who I was as a whole person?

And if David was attracted to these women, which undoubtedly part of him was, why did that take away his attraction to me?

Compersion is the ability to experience joy through your partner’s happiness. The term was coined by non-monogamous and poly communities, but it can be extended to any kind of relationship.

Instead of feeling jealous or possessive, we can be happy for our partner.

I thought about how David was doing something he loved—it just so happened to be with underwear models. He was a photographer; of course he was going to be capturing all kinds of moments, people, experiences.

I thought about how women are truly beautiful. There is nothing wrong with admiring beauty (as long as it doesn’t cross a boundary).

I thought about how David was excited about his work, and that then made him come home and be excited and passionate with me.

By reframing my thoughts around this situation, I was able to turn my anxiety and jealousy into support and enthusiasm.

Lastly, most of those models actually had boyfriends and likely didn’t want to sleep with David anyway. I realized part of my jealousy was because I thought David was an incredible person—who wouldn’t want to be with him?

When I expressed that to him, he also saw that my jealousy came from a place of deep love and fear of loss.

We were able to communicate what we were both feeling and work through it together, not turn against one another.

David and I didn’t stay together. But dating him was a huge part of my growth and for that, I’ll always be grateful.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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