"It Must Be Nice"

You have no idea, but I know what you mean

“It must be nice to not work.”

“It must be nice to have insurance pay for that.”

“It must be nice to be rich.”

“It must be nice to be retired.”

“It must be nice to have no kids in the house.”

“It must be nice to have a good husband.”

These are all things I’ve had said to me multiple times in my life. I don’t know why people feel the need to express their thoughts (envy? bitterness?) in this way. I wish they’d stop. But more than that, I wish they knew how wrong they are. I'm not often this confrontational in my writing, but I really think this is something that needs to be addressed.

“It must be nice to not work.” I don’t work because a disability and a broken system prevent me from working. I’ve had years of pain and lost mobility and surgeries in my future. You have no idea I have crawled across the floor because it hurt too much to walk.  I have been unable to pick up my newborn because my hands were too weak to hold her safely. I have used a shopping cart as a walker. I’ve been told I’m faking it. I’ve had a doctor tell me if I need a handicap placard that badly, then I should just get joint replacements instead of a piece of plastic for my car. You think I don’t want to work? Share my ideas? Be a part of a team? Be given accolades and promotions for my successes? You think it’s fun to have talents and have no outlet to use them? But yeah, I know what you mean.

“It must be nice to have insurance pay for that.” My insurance helps to pay for very expensive medicine that makes it possible for me to live a life that looks as “normal” as possible. You have no idea it allows me to not be in a wheelchair. It allows me to drive. It allows me to do mundane chores instead of hiring someone to help. And it costs us money every month to pay for that insurance. But yeah, I know what you mean.

“It must be nice to be rich.” I’m not sure what the definition of “rich” is, but apparently we’ve arrived. And I laugh at this the most because it’s not even close to the truth. We raised seven kids. We paid child support for years. We spent years counting pennies. Our kids didn’t get family vacations. They didn’t get a car when they turned 16. There were no college funds for them. You have no idea we instead spent five years figuring it out so my husband could finish his degrees. We moved a lot for job opportunities. We paid off debt. We said “no” to fun and “yes” to responsibly. We sold things to have money to pay for kids’ gifts and field trips and yearbooks. And now those kids are raised and we have an even tighter budget. But because we have some nice things, we’re rich? Few people saw the struggles. They only see today. It took sacrifice to get here. We aren’t rich. We’re trying to be smart. But yeah, I know what you mean.

“It must be nice to be retired.” My husband is ten years older than me. So I’m reaping the benefits of retirement life sooner than some of my peers. But it’s not without its own consequences. You have no idea that our income changed dramatically. We had to make decisions for twenty and thirty years from now and hope we’re choosing correctly. We had to find a new routine. We had to adjust to all of our time being together. It is nice to be retired. And it can be boring and lonely and annoying. But yeah, I know what you mean. 

“It must be nice to have no kids in the house.” Our kids. This is such a complex, loaded, emotional topic. When they’re little and you’re sleep deprived and they’re sick all the time and you don’t know if they’ll need therapy after all the mistakes you think you're making on a daily basis...you can’t wait for them to be grown. And teenagers are a test for sure. But what people don’t know is that there were years of having more kids than bedrooms. There were more birthdays than budget. There were more mouths than groceries. You have no idea we had years of distance as some of them needed space to work through their own experiences. We haven’t had all seven kids in the same place for almost fifteen years. So while I enjoy the relationships I have with my adult children - and it’s nice to have time alone just me and my husband - I long for the days when we were all under one roof. When we could drive each other crazy and still smile at sleeping heads before doing it all again the next day. I’d love a Thanksgiving with every one of my children around the table. But yeah, I know what you mean.

“It must be nice to have a good husband.” I’ll tell you, it’s not nice having a good husband. It’s AMAZING!!! But the people who say this to me don’t know the pain I went through to get him. The lies, the infidelity, the refusal to work, the rejection of my small children, the anger, the harassment. You want a good husband my way? You have no idea what I went through! You’ll need to leave with nothing and live in low income housing. You’ll need to get food stamps. You’ll need to have no car for months. You’ll have to have a very limited support group in a small town with few resources. You’ll need to go to court over and over and over to prove lies against you have no merit. And you’ll have to explain to your children why the man who created them wants nothing to do with them. It was NOT nice going through those years. But yeah, I know what you mean. 

What you mean is “It’s not fair that I see you having/doing/being whatever I feel is missing in my life.” 

What you mean is “I want to make you feel guilty for what you have and where you are.”

What you mean is “It never occurred to me that you have a story of pain and struggle that might make me think differently if I cared enough to ask and listen instead of put my fear of failure onto you.”

I don’t owe anyone an explanation of my life. And yet I feel obligated to explain when people make these flippant remarks about my life. I feel obligated because I have tried to use every bit of my life to not only encourage others, but to also show them that I can relate because I have been there. I do not gloat in my material possessions. I glory in my journey. The Lord walked with me through every one of my difficulties and used them to grow my faith in Him. And He grew my compassion. My perspective. My ability to look for the silver lining. Nothing I’ve gone through has been wasted.

But what strikes me the most is that many of these statements come from people who have not experienced going hungry or getting divorced or having estranged children or learning to live with a disability. How sad is it to make a comment that can cut so deep with no depth of awareness. 

“It must be nice to be employed.”

“It must be nice to be healthy.”

“It must be nice to have everything you need.”

“It must be nice to have the same job for forty years.”

“It must be nice to have your children nearby.”

“It must be nice to never have been divorced.”

These are things I’ve never said. Never once in all of my lack did I ever look at others and think that what they had was undeserved just because I didn’t have the same. The two are not connected. 

I’m sure some people say it and never give it another thought. There was no intended malice. But the damage is done nonetheless. So if you’re reading this and you’ve made a comment like this, stop it. It’s judgmental and trite and unnecessary. Instead, be excited for them. Ask them their story. Listen more and keep score less.

If you’re in a season (or two) of doing without, I want you to know you aren’t alone. There are things that can be growing you now if you’ll let them. Your compassion, your perseverance, your faith: things that cannot be measured by the world’s standard of riches. In those dark moments, do not forget to look for the silver lining.

 

“I have a place to sleep.”

“My kids are healthy.”

“I’m safe.”

“I have a friend.”

“I have Jesus.”

These are things I have had to tell myself.  I had many times I would remind myself of the good I had even in the midst of my circumstances. Even if it’s only one thing, I promise you have something good right now.

Don't be ashamed of where you are. In the struggle or on the other side, you own it. You keep working toward improving yourself and your situation. Do not let anyone guilt you for successes, big or small. We need more people like us who can overcome and see the world through a lens of gratitude instead of envy.