Envy will eat you up with bitterness

I’M SORRY for my unheralded absence last week; like so many people, I went down with flulike symptoms and a chest infection and simply couldn’t get out of bed. And a very rude letter from a reader didn’t help my coughing and exhaustion!

This lady, KD, thoroughly disliked my article on looking after elderly parents (Mail) and told me so in no uncertain terms. She called my piece (which she refused to finish reading) a ‘ sanctimonious rant’ and advised: ‘Stop preaching or swap the press for the pulpit.’

And all because I had suggested an alternative to Sheila Hancock’s view that younger people don’t want to be ‘lumbered’ with the old.

KD’s fury (and lady, it’s not my fault if you have a guilty conscience) reminded me how some people only view an issue through the narrow prism of their own experience.

Nasty and bitter they so often are, hating to imagine the happiness of others. You know, ‘ my father was an old pig, therefore I don’t want to read about folk loving their dads’; ‘ my wife was unfaithful, therefore I detest all women’; ‘after two marriages, I’m totally cynical and laugh at promises . . .’ Blah, blah, blah.

It’s like a person once nipped by a dog really detesting all the pet- lovers walking their beloved pooches in the park. And it’s no way to live.

Some years ago, a critic told me I was ‘too forgiving’ — referring to my attitude at the end of my first marriage. It made me ask: ‘What’s wrong with that?’ Isn’t it a fault on the right side?

Even if your own experiences have left you hurt and angry, that’s no reason to deny all goodness. If your own family life has been full of sadness and conflict, that’s no justification for resenting happy families around you.

Envy is thoroughly unattractive — and it damages the person harbouring the negative feelings. Life may be imperfect, but my goodness, let’s celebrate human love and tolerance when we see it. Because it really is all around.

Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week. Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail, 2 Derry Street, london W8 5TT, or email bel.mooney@dailymail.co.uk. A pseudonym will be used if you wish. Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence.