I know my friend is jealous of me and my life.

To my dearest friend.

We’ve been through it all together. Starting in primary school, right up until now, in our thirties.

I know your hopes, dreams and wishes. I know what you are thinking, even when you are polite enough not to tell me.

I know you want my life. It’s okay. I know you aren’t jealous of me. I understand you are happy for me, and want me to have everything I have. I know that feeling eating inside of you is something different.

"I know you want my life." Image via iStock.

Since you were a little girl you've been planning your wedding. The plans have become more elegant and less glitter-bombesque as you've aged, but I know those plans are solid. I know that when I got married five years ago, it was the hardest thing for you to be a part of. I am thankful, that as my best friend, you said nothing. Instead, you were my rock in a raging sea of plans, opinions and family/friend/great Aunt feuds.

Read more: “You’re selfish if you have a kid-free wedding.”

I know at the time you wished you were the one in the white dress, picking the flowers for the bouquet, saying "I do".

Now, I find myself living your next dream.


A two-year-old boy and pregnant with a girl. The pigeon pair, right?

Even when we were little you knew your life plan. A big wedding. A loving, hard-working husband. Two children - one boy, one girl. The ability to chose to be a stay-at-home mum.

Whereas I was never the "wedding" girl. Or the "baby" girl. Or the girl that would ever think being a stay-at-home mum was so great. Then suddenly, it all came crashing into my life. Which I love. I never knew to ask for something so wonderful, but I'm so grateful I got it.

"I know at the time you wished you were the one in the white dress." Image via iStock.

I know it's hard for you to see me having what you've wished for. I know you wish the guy you are with would just hurry up and propose. I hear you telling me how you've changed your mind on marriage. It's not a big deal. Just a piece of paper. Why bother with all that fuss anyways, right?

Like I said, I can read your mind. I know you don't believe a single word you're saying.

Read more: When did it become cool to talk about how miserable marriage is?

I see how you drop hints to him about babies. How you tell him what a sexy, wonderful dad he would make as he plays with my little boy.


You tell me how you've gone off the pill after reading the "bad effects" it could have. I know you don't believe that BS. I know that when he says, "yes, let's have a baby", your body is 100% ready to go.

"Like I said, I can read your mind." Image via iStock.

I wish I could tell you that you'll still get everything you dreamed of - if only you would listen. Just because it hasn't happened yet, doesn't mean it never will. I know it's hard watching each of your friends get married and get pregnant. We all seem to have the perfect life, right? The one you've dreamed of.

It isn't all peaches. Sure, it's great. But there are times when I look at your life and wish I could have yours. With the took-five-minutes-to-plan-midweek drinks, or the Sunday sleep-ins with a hangover, or the lack of toddler tantrums while buying a new outfit for the date night that doesn't require military planning.

Read more: Introducing baby to your toddler: Midwife Cath’s dos and don’ts.

Dearest friend, please enjoy what you have now. It will soon all change in a heart beat, and I would hate for you to be another person I speak to who wishes they could have your life instead of theirs.