I know that, in spite of her cheerful and enthusiastic demeanor, my daughter suffers from time to time. She has told me that she gets lonely. As an only child, I fear that we have made it difficult for her to relate to other children.

It doesn’t help that she is different. She is different because she is half-Asian and doesn’t look like the other kids. She is different because her mother and I are older than most of the parents of her peers. She is different because she was raised in a multi-generational household with grandparents to guide and teach her, so she has always been ahead of her grade level. She is different because she is creative, she’s a leader, and she is so damn smart, and I’m not just saying that as a doting father. The truth is that she is smarter than both her mother and myself.

I just don’t want to see her lose heart. I don’t want to see her become cynical. We joke about being weird. I can joke about it now because I have found solace in my weirdness, but it wasn’t always funny. It has also been lonely, painful, and confusing. To her, it is just lonely, painful, and confusing.

She doesn’t understand why the other kids don’t want to play with her. She is frustrated and hurt by the fact that some of the kids who are friends with her one-on-one choose to ignore her play on the playground while playing with other kids who exclude her from their games. She calls these kids “half-friends.” At least she knows that, but that knowledge hurts.

This pains and saddens me. I can feel it in my marrow. I have been there. I have been her. It made no sense to me then and it makes no sense to me now. She is full of life, full of joy and enthusiasm, and as sincere and loyal as they come. Why can’t the other kids see that? Why don’t they see how kind, smart, and generous she is? Why is she excluded? It makes no sense. No child should feel alone and unaccepted amongst their peers.

I know life is not fair, but I refuse to accept the unfairness of this. So we talk about it. I try to make it make sense. I try to give her hope. I tell her she is loved and appreciated, and that she will find her place in the world someday.

It may take a while and it may not be easy, but this is all temporary. And sometimes she cries. And sometimes I cry, but I try to stay strong for her because I know, even if she can’t see it now, there is meaning in all of this.

There are lessons in all of this. It makes no sense now. It feels wrong and it feels unfair. But these struggles will become her story someday and her story will help others through their pain, their loneliness, and their confusion. It is so important not to lose hope because your hope may be the only hope someone else has.