Life in a small farming community is sometimes exactly what you expect. Some have big farmhouses that have been renovated with recent income, crazy huge farming equipment and a pretty good way of living. But that's not how many know life.

I go to Miami University. A huge number of the students there have college paid for by their parents. Even many who pay for most of their tuition get some type of financial assistance from family. I hear on a regular basis, "I'm such a poor college student!" But do you even know what it's really like to be poor? It's not living off ramen noodles and microwave-cooked food (most of the time).

For me, being poor is living a more luxurious life at college than at home. At college, I have a healthy meal option any night. I go out multiple times a week for dinner. I have a comfortable bed and no bugs in my room. I have the freedom to use the money I have because it's my scholarship money.

But hey, my life back home is definitely not bad, it's just a little different. Still, many people in my community live a life of struggle and poverty. They have no escape. Many of them don't even imagine going to college because here, if your grades aren't in the top 25% and you don't have the money, your options for college are pretty slim.

I don't want to tell my story. I want to tell theirs. I want to tell the story that never gets told. The story of a life that starts with a drunken night between two 16-year-olds and ends with a drug overdose. Those are the stories that never get told. Those are the important stories.

My entire county has about 55,000 people. I graduated with 60 other students from more than seven different villages. The median property value is about half of the national average. Less than 15 percent of our adult population has a bachelor's degree. Our median household income is more than $5,000 below the national average, and our poverty level is around 13 percent. Many of these numbers are only representative of the middle of the population. But what about the people at the bottom?

The people who don't have their own bedroom might not even have a bed. They sleep on the couch or with their parents because they could only afford to rent out one room of the house they live in with three other families.

The children who dread school know that at least they'll get food. At home, they get plain noodles or rice for dinner every night. During the summer they just try to make it last. When they do get food, they want to be a little spoiled and always make the unhealthy choices. Then again, do they even know how unhealthy the food they are choosing is?

The people who dream of doing something other than fast food can't afford the training or college to get there. They could get scholarships, but no one ever taught them where to look for those, and it's more important to support their family as best as they can. They spend hours in a library because they surely can't afford a laptop or internet to do homework.

The parents who pray that they paid enough this month so that their landlord won't shut them down. They know some sacrifices will be made, but their children really wanted to play basketball, and that costs around $300 extra per child.

The people who wake up at 4 a.m. to get ready and to feed the animals. It might cost a lot of money to take care of them all, but it's what they love. Also, it's the only way they can get an income anymore.

The people whose property is in complete disarray both inside and out, but they're afraid to ask for help because what if their children get taken away? They know how bad it is, but they still would like to believe they can make it better.

The people who find it hard to get a job because they can only afford one junky car for the house. They can't promise "reliable transportation" because Dad already needs the car five days a week. But without the extra income, how do they make the money for another car?

These are the people whose stories truly matter. They could never imagine your cushy life full of vacations, quality education and no fear of how you'll make it through the day.

So next time you complain about being "poor," think about those who would love to be your version of "poor."