When people look at me, they see a straight-A student. When they see me, they see a perfect, never-gets-in-trouble girl. What they don’t see is how I feel.

When people visit my home, they see a higher-class house. When they walk through my door, they see well-cared-for style. What they don’t see is how it makes me feel.

Jealousy is no pretty thing. I’m no super genius and I’m no wealthy aristocrat. My dad has a PhD and a medical degree. Does that make me different? Does that change who I am? No.

People say things, because they hurt inside. Guess what, it hurts me too. I want so much to give everyone what I have. I want so much for their lives to be easier, but I can’t change the way things are. Don’t they realize that when they say those things, when they act like I’m a freak or a snob because of what I own, what I can do, that it hurts my feelings?

I am me for who I am, not for what I own. I’ve been on a plane at least once every year of my life, I take private lessons for fun, and I’ve been on exotic vacations. I receive good grades, I admit I’m smart, but I’m not even top of my class in my smaller school.

People say my life is easier, that I don’t understand. They should understand that life is never easy. Don’t they know that I cry at night? Don’t they know that I hate hurting people’s feelings? Don’t they know that I’m a proud person who has fault? No. They never took the time to find out.

Don’t get me wrong, I know that I’m lucky and blessed, and I’m grateful for that, I would never give up the life I have. This doesn’t mean that it’s ok for people to treat me different. It hurts. I want people to realize that I have real feelings.

I don’t want people to read this and say ‘Honey, you don’t know the half of it.’, because you’re right, I don’t. Believe me, people have made that clear. That isn’t the point. I want people to understand that they don’t know the half of it either.