I'm 36 and jealous of my friends' salaries - I have to think about every penny

Kenny advises ‘refocusing on the wealth gap as a societal problem, rather than a problem within a friendship group’ (Photo: Westend61/Victoria Rayu/Getty)

I hear your sense of injustice that all of you are working hard, yet you’re really struggling while your friends are thriving. In its simplest terms you’re saying: “It’s not fair” – and indeed, it’s not.

I would first recommend stepping back from this situation as your perspective seems to be micro-focused on the wealth gap between you and your friends. We’re living through a particularly tough economic period: few can take finances for granted, while more and more have worries. The “enemy” in this situation isn’t your friends’ bank balances, but rather macro forces of domestic politics over the past decade, and the global economy, within a society that financially rewards some careers handsomely while seemingly overlooking others.

And I know many hardworking people who feel duped, by the time they hit 30, that school and university career advice was all tailored to passions, rather than the practicalities of earning a decent salary for a comfortable life. And yet the optimist in me feels saddened at the thought of young people curtailing their dreams because they want to pay a mortgage.

Comparison rarely leads to contentment, yet it’s so difficult to avoid. I wonder whether there are other emotions among your jealousy: anger that the world isn’t just, or embarrassment that you can’t pay for things as easily, or confusion at the strange, unfair workings of our world?

I think by refocusing on the wealth gap as a societal problem, rather than a problem within your friendship group, you’ll feel less jealous of your friends’ lots.

But I also want to reassure you that while jealousy and envy are so frequently demonised as negative emotions, they’re just feelings passing through. If you let yourself feel those feelings, show them curiosity, they tend to fade much more swiftly than if you feel ashamed of them.

I’d also urge you to consider how it feels working in an area that you don’t feel passionate about day in, day out. I wouldn’t be able to do that for a king’s ransom – and I often wonder whether these truly stellar salaries are to distract from the mind numbingness of the task and the broken spirits of those wearing the golden handcuffs.

While you have cashflow problems – which is a horrible feeling, and I’m certainly not underplaying that, especially at an age when you’re thinking about homes and families – do remember that you have fulfilment at work. When people find purpose – whether it’s putting something right in society that was lacking in their own lives, that fulfils them creatively, that creates change, or is working for a company with a great ethos – they tend to value their contribution. This is something that not all of your friends are experiencing.

Then we come to the practical concern of whether you can afford to socialise with your friends. I hear how much this stag would set you back financially, while for others this might be a drop in the ocean. Taking the money and injustice out of the equation, what would you gain from the trip away? Would you enjoy it? Will you have time to catch up with your friends? Do you enjoy the camaraderie between you all?

Do you feel embarrassed about your relative lack of wealth? If a few friends chipped in to help pay for you, would you feel delighted by how much they want you to be with them, or awkward or beholden that they are covering you, even if that is not their intention? It’s surprising how few people in the UK have a healthy attitude to money that isn’t bound up with awkwardness. Money is simply currency and a means to an end.

It’s completely up to you whether you go along or not – and if not, whether you are honest about your reasons for not going, or if it feels easier to make up an excuse. I always recommend honesty as the best policy – it means other people don’t start second guessing your absence or risk feeling rejected in friendship themselves.

If you would have an amazing time, then I’d urge you not to rule it out: weekends away with friends might become more scarce as you head into your 40s and beyond. If it’s a case of feeling you’re missing out, then examine whether beyond this it would give you genuine pleasure to be there.

There might be a third way: you go along but say you’re not going to join one of the more expensive activities to ease pressure on your wallet. Or, as you’re likely to have a series of stag dos over the next few years, you choose a few to go to and a few that you miss, so it doesn’t become too much of a burden financially. How would it feel to be honest to your friends about this? If anyone judges you for being honest they’re probably not long-term friendship material.

If you feel a sense of discomfort around money, I’d recommend that you think about this jealousy you’re feeling: is there sadness or shame behind it? Is there a feeling of being left out that has its roots in your younger years?

Think about when those feelings initially arose in childhood: was there ever shame or embarrassment, a feeling of being less than? Sit with those feelings and experience them so they are no longer being suppressed. Often those feelings might have served us and even protected us in our past, but hold little relevance now.

As for making new friends, I’d say a wholehearted yes. Don’t ditch your old friends but it might be enriching for you to have other friends, whether those who are colleagues and work in a similar field to you, or share interests with you, or simply live close by. Do what you love – and can afford – and open yourself up to attracting good people along the way.

Meanwhile, if you decide you can’t afford a stag abroad, do suggest to the groom and your friends that you have a night out together on these shores so you don’t miss out celebrating completely, but can keep within your budget.