We all start from different places in life, but that doesn’t mean we’re bound by them. Privilege, hardship, and personal growth aren’t mutually exclusive—yet in today’s world, it’s easy to dismiss someone’s success as the result of privilege while overlooking the struggles that shaped them. In this article, I dive into the complexities of privilege, why acknowledging it doesn’t erase your hardships, and how you can take ownership of your future—regardless of where you started.
When Happiness Triggers Hate
I genuinely appreciate when people engage with my social media posts—it helps boost my content so more people can find it. But, as with anything online, negativity is always lurking in the background.
My platform is about spreading positivity, motivating others, and inspiring people who have faced adversity to realize they deserve and are capable of building better lives. I never considered that controversial, but in today’s world, I recognize that it can be.
I recently posted a video with the text, “And suddenly, she wasn’t afraid of anything anymore,” featuring a highlight reel of the challenges I’ve faced to overcome anxiety—things like solo travel, embracing my goofy side, working out in front of others, and (heaven forbid) filming myself doing it.
The comment? “Nothing in this video is scary. This is a video about privilege.”
Perspective is a powerful thing. My first instinct was to reply with all the ways I haven’t been privileged—struggling with severe mental health issues, growing up in poverty, experiencing neglect, losing my dad when I was 9, and so on. I also considered flipping it back: “Must be nice that none of these things are scary for you.” But after about 45 seconds of debating with myself, I just deleted the comment.
Labeling someone as privileged is a way of erasing their struggles, often by someone who knows nothing about them. If you’ve had the courage to live authentically and pursue what truly matters to you, chances are, someone out there will dismiss your earned happiness as privilege.
When you’ve spent your life believing you deserve less, seeing someone else achieve their dreams can spark resentment instead of inspiration.
This isn’t the first time I’ve encountered this, and it won’t be the last. Social media is an outlet for me, but sharing my deepest struggles with the internet is no easy task. Of course, I don’t have to share, and yet here I am, doing it again—not to flaunt my privilege, but to reach the part of you that knows you deserve more and is willing to fight for it.
The Privilege Debate
Now, let’s address the obvious—I’m white. And while making assumptions about others based on skin color isn’t exactly a best practice (as HR-me would say), it happens all the time. People of all races experience this, but when it happens to white people, we tend to look the other way. Even if they’re poor, disabled, or immigrants—it doesn’t matter. You’re white, you’re privileged.
And you know what? I absolutely have white privilege. I’ll never fully grasp how many doors have quietly opened for me because of my race—whether it’s landing a job, avoiding a traffic stop, or a hundred other things I’ll never even realize. But the reason people push back against being labeled privileged is that it’s an oversimplified argument used to dismiss a human being’s entire experience.
Privilege isn’t a catch-all measure of someone’s life. Having one privilege doesn’t mean having every privilege. Being white means I have white privilege, but that doesn’t make me universally “privileged.” In the same way, someone who had everything in life handed to them on a silver platter might still face unimaginable tragedy like losing a child or battling cancer. And on the flip side, someone who grew up with nothing can still rise to incredible heights. You can’t judge someone’s story by their privileges alone.
The truth is that we all start from different places, and we all face unique challenges. Some have more obstacles than others, and we should always strive for fairness and equity when we can. But tearing down people who have worked to build a better life—especially those who started with adversity of their own—doesn’t help anyone. Instead of assuming, maybe we should be asking: What can I learn from this person’s journey?
Acknowledging Privilege Doesn’t Define Your Experience
Privilege is a complex and often misunderstood concept. Acknowledging that certain aspects of your identity may have provided advantages doesn’t mean your entire experience is shaped by them. It’s possible to recognize privilege while also understanding that it doesn’t tell the full story of someone’s life, struggles, or achievements.
The issue arises when privilege is used as the defining lens through which everything else is viewed. When people reduce someone’s success, resilience, or growth to just privilege, it disregards the effort, perseverance, and personal battles they’ve faced. It suggests that their hardships don’t matter or aren’t hard enough to be valid. But the reality is, privilege and struggle can coexist.
We all carry different privileges—whether it’s race, socioeconomic background, education, physical ability, mental health, immigration status, or support systems. But those factors don’t determine the limits of our experiences. Two people with the same societal privilege can still lead vastly different lives based on circumstances, choices, and personal hardships.
The best way I can illustrate this is with a personal anecdote: When my mom left my dad, she had next to nothing and two little kids to feed. She had to find somewhere she could afford to raise us, but she still wanted us to provide the best chance for us to build a better life. We moved to the cheapest possible living situation in the nicest possible school district; a trailer park in the middle of nowhere, Illinois, where I rode the school bus 45 minutes to get to school every morning and the nearest grocery store was a 30 minute drive. I went to school with other kids who lived primarily middle class lives. My friends had pools, two story houses with finished basements, big backyards, and name-brand lunches. I had none of that – but I had access to a good education, and for that, I’ll forever be grateful.
At the end of the day, privilege is a piece of the puzzle, not the entire picture. Acknowledging it doesn’t mean dismissing your struggles, nor does it mean you have to justify your success to others. Instead of letting privilege define us, we should focus on what we do with our experiences—how we use them to grow, to help others, and to create meaningful change.
You Don’t Deserve Any Less
Now, I’m speaking to that small part inside of you that says ‘life’s not fair.’ And it isn’t. It’s a hard lesson I learned from a very early age. I can’t even remember the first time I thought that. Probably after the holidays in kindergarten or maybe even preschool, when the other kids talked about the cool new toys they got while I just got hand-me-downs from my sister. There are people out there (of all skin colors and nationalities) that inherited generational wealth from their parents. Maybe their parents put them through college while we paid our own way or chose not to go. Maybe they got a shiny new car for their sweet 16 while I drove my grandpa’s car that was older than me, only because he died and left it to us. Maybe they helped put a down payment on their first house, while I worked and saved my money since I was 16 years old to afford my condo.
The list goes on and on. But whether you’ve worked for everything you have or had it handed to you on a silver platter, those who don’t know you see the same thing: you have what they do not.
Here’s the catch: you don’t deserve to live a life of less just because you weren’t born with more.
The adults in my life set a horrible example for me when I was growing up. My parents weren’t married, and they split only a few short years after I was born. My dad was an alcoholic, and many of my older cousins struggled with addiction. A lot of my family has died from addiction, my dad included. I grew up in a trailer park, surrounded by other kids with their own struggles and bad influences. My parents never went to college, and they worked the jobs they needed to get by. They were often in trouble with the law, and my dad even went to prison and got deported when I was in the second grade. The capital-T trauma I faced from all of this deeply impacted my self esteem, and instilled a limiting belief within me that I am not as worthy as others.
If I had only looked to those around me as an example of what I could be, I’d probably be in my grave today. That’s not an exaggeration. In spite of my dwindling self-esteem, I made a conscious choice to rise above it. I looked to media and the parents of other friends at school for an example of what an ideal family should look like. I found people to admire who were living the life I wanted, not the life that was laid out before me, and I tried to imitate their steps. I focused on school instead of trying to fit in with the questionable influences around me. Seeing the harmful affects of drugs and alcohol on my family, I stayed fully sober for most of my childhood, trying alcohol for the first time when I was 17. Some might not see that as an accomplishment, but I do when the trailer park kids were passing around beers at age 12 and several of my cousins have died from drug overdoses.
But here’s the thing—none of that means I was destined to struggle forever. Too often, people wear their hardships like a label, as if growing up poor or in a toxic environment means they’re stuck there forever. But where you start is not where you have to finish.
You don’t earn success by suffering. You don’t have to prove how hard life has been for you to deserve a better one.
Your hardships might shape you, but they don’t define what you’re capable of. The life you want isn’t just for other people—it’s for you, too. But to have it, you have to believe that you deserve it. And once you do, you have to fight like hell to make it yours.
Own Your Story
At the end of the day, your life is yours to shape. People will always have opinions—some will support you, and others will try to diminish what you’ve worked for. But their perspective doesn’t define your reality. You do.
Acknowledging privilege doesn’t mean your struggles aren’t real. Overcoming hardship doesn’t mean you have to apologize for your success. And wanting more for yourself doesn’t make you ungrateful—it makes you human.
So keep going. Keep pushing forward, not because you have something to prove, but because you deserve the life you’re building. You are not defined by where you started, and you don’t owe anyone an explanation for where you’re headed.
I need you to know that you deserve the life you want. And actually, you were destined for it. It’s not an easy fight, but I know it’s one you can battle. I believe in you, and I hope you do, too.
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