I didn’t realize I grew up in an upper-middle-class household until I spent more than a few years living in Los Angeles. I had daily contact with a variety of demographics and backgrounds at the restaurant I worked. The details of my childhood differed in many aspects than the details of my coworkers’ childhoods.

I stopped short of mentioning horses when I shared about myself. Those of you who knew me when I was young know that horses shaped my adolescence and had a great influence on who I became as a young adult. I learned work ethic, setting and attaining goals, navigating through setbacks, overcoming fears, and many other habits I’ve always felt pride cultivating at such a young age. But, I felt shame in the word “horse” and carefully avoided it in my stories.

At first, I didn’t know why. It took time to identify where that shame came from, but after some reflection, I realized it was a privilege I had that many of my coworkers didn’t. It embarrassed me. I had never thought that I grew up extravagantly, but I couldn’t mention this detail to someone who grew up in an apartment without it feeling like I did.

It’s taken me a while to drop that shame. I had no control over the circumstances of my upbringing, and my parents could not be faulted for providing me with every opportunity in their power to give. They knew these lessons I learned would prove essential to my adult life and they have.

Don’t get me wrong. There were many requests my parents were unable to provide and many in our community were able to afford luxuries that were out of my family's reach. I was what is called a “working student,” as in I did barn chores to pay for my riding lessons. I got a ride to the barn after school every day and wouldn’t get home until late in the evening. I spent my summers mucking out stalls and loading fifty-pound feed sacks into the feed room. I felt pride in this arrangement, earning for myself what at first seemed out of reach.

It wasn’t until several years later I realized the opportunity to work for my training was a privilege in itself, not to mention the base my parents already set for me.

So where does this leave me? What am I supposed to do? I’m not sure exactly, but acknowledging my privilege is an important step. How I was raised, who I was exposed to, and what I look like has afforded me some advantages.

Let’s back up for a moment. Humans feel more comfortable amongst the familiar. Sometimes we attribute to people that remind us of a dear cousin or a wise uncle the same qualities of that cousin or uncle. We form intimacy much quicker with these individuals, individuals that look like us and talk like us.

This bias often influences opinions from the subconscious and some may not be aware that it exists. It's important to bring this bias up to the surface of consciousness, even if we’d rather not. Especially if we’d rather not!

I’ve had the good fortune to look and talk like many of the people who make important decisions. I also feel comfortable speaking with people of a certain degree of wealth. I can relate to them, as they are similar to those I grew up with. I’m not saying I’ve endeared myself to all of them, but I have a higher probability of doing so than those of different backgrounds.

My ego attributes any success to my charm, my skills, and my hard work. While they certainly helped my cause, I cannot dismiss that this bias had some influence.

Several times, in my ten years working at this restaurant, I was pulled aside and asked, “What are you doing here? You don’t belong here.” People often told me I had the potential for greater things than the restaurant. I didn’t disagree then, I don’t disagree now, but as far as I know, none of my other coworkers received this pep talk.

Why was I singled out? I don’t know. I don’t doubt that they saw something special in me, but I don’t know if that something special was missing from my other coworkers. Was it easier for them to see my potential because they saw something familiar? Did I carry myself like people they know? Did I talk or look like them? And did that encouragement help push me to go back to school?

I can only speak to my experiences. I’ve struggled much more than I had expected to and more than my parents anticipated. I’m not saying more than anyone else, but just that these opportunities didn’t negate some real difficulty. I don’t know what I would have done without the tools I have cultivated or the contacts I have made. These resources have been lifeblood to me, but these resources are out of reach for many. It’s uncomfortable to admit. It's necessary though. How else can we figure out how to put these resources within more people’s reach?