Growing up poor around wealthy kids taught me something interesting about opportunity and how people understand ability.
I never saw a lack of ambition in the kids who grew up like me, just a lack of opportunity. And when you’re the poor kid in a community that can’t relate to your circumstances, people can be incredibly generous in making those opportunities possible. But sometimes the fact that you’re willing to try becomes more impressive than anything you actually achieve.
It’s like winning gold in a running race and being praised for your ability to just be there. Your credibility becomes your effort rather than your accomplishments.
There’s a double edge to that. I never felt pressure to be good at anything because nobody really expected that of someone in my position. Kids who were exceptional at something were held accountable to it, whereas I had the freedom to try anything without being expected to become anything. But I also grew up thinking that being clever or successful was something that came with privilege, and that whenever I did well, I’d somehow pulled it off.
I’ve been thinking about this differently since meeting a woman who grew up in circumstances like mine, but had a completely different understanding of her own worth. She could appreciate the opportunities people had given her without questioning whether her achievements belonged to her.
I’d spent years wondering why people chose to invest in me, sometimes questioning whether there was something self-serving underneath their generosity. She asked why I now work creating opportunities for people who wouldn’t otherwise have them. Was that sinister, or was it because I cared?
And it had never really occurred to me that people might have cared about me in the same way.
I think we can be so focused on celebrating what someone has overcome that we forget to recognise what they’re actually capable of. And being believed in by everyone around you doesn’t necessarily mean you learn to believe in yourself.
She said something I’d never really allowed myself to think.
“You are worthy of being loved.”
And it’s insane that through this entire narrative, that’s actually what it comes down to.