Why some thrive while others merely survive
They tell us we live in a meritocracy—that hard work equals success. But that's a lie told by those who were born on third base and think they hit a triple. The game is rigged before we even learn the rules.
I've worked harder than people who have everything. I've sacrificed more, endured more, persevered through obstacles they'll never face. And still, they're ahead. Not because they're better, but because they started with advantages I'll never have.
Person A: Born into wealth. Private schools. Personal tutors. Family connections. Internships at top companies. A "small loan" to start their business. A network that opens doors. Confidence built on never knowing real failure.
Person B: Born into poverty. Underfunded schools. Working part-time at 15 to help pay bills. Loans for basic education. No connections. No mentors. Applications ignored. Confidence crushed by constant rejection.
They both "work hard." Only one is called successful. The other is told they didn't try hard enough.
I've seen my parents work multiple jobs and still struggle. I've watched good, honest, hardworking people grind themselves into dust and die with nothing. Meanwhile, those born into wealth work less, risk less, and gain more.
They call it earning it. But you can't "earn" being born into the right family. You can't "work for" starting life with a full deck instead of a missing half the cards.
Depression? They get therapy. We get told to "think positive." Sick? They get the best care. We get prescriptions we can't afford. Stressed? They take vacations. We take extra shifts.
Every problem I have could be solved or eased with money. But I'm told money doesn't buy happiness by people who've never had to choose between food and medicine, between rent and education, between surviving today and planning for tomorrow.
The worst part? This isn't new. This is generational. Poverty breeds poverty. Wealth breeds wealth. The game is designed to keep winners winning and losers losing. And we're told to be grateful for the scraps while they feast.
I'm not asking for their wealth. I'm asking for a fair chance. But fair doesn't exist when some start the race miles ahead and others start with weights chained to their ankles.