There’s a moment in childhood when the world shifts into categories — not rich

There’s a moment in childhood when the world shifts into categories — not rich and poor, but “like mine” and “not like mine.”

For me, it was stepping into the homes near the golf course. The ranch houses had carpets that didn’t curl at the edges, kitchens with matching appliances, couches without mysterious stains. They felt like the houses on TV shows, like a slightly artificial version of reality.

I didn’t feel ashamed. I felt disoriented.

I wondered why their houses smelled like air freshener instead of woodsmoke. Why their parents didn’t warn them constantly about heating costs. Why their basements were finished. Why they had automatic dishwashers.

It wasn’t envy. It was curiosity.

Two worlds, separated by a mile, orbiting different ideas of normal.