As parents, we all try to provide the best life we can for our children, and it's natural to feel proud of the little comforts we're able to give them. But what happens when your child's friendships highlight the differences in lifestyle that exist between families?

My husband and I always strive to give our kid a good life. We've worked hard to build a warm, comfortable home and to create memories that matter—vacations, family dinners, and everyday moments of joy. That's why it's understandable when parents express discomfort about their children always making friends with kids from wealthier families.

I was especially moved by a Reddit post by a mom of two venting about her struggles with her children, ages 9 and 11, who seemingly always befriend wealthy children, and it's taking its toll.

This mom's frustration comes from two angles. First, she's noticed her kids have started asking for things they can't afford, like $400 VR headsets—because they played with them at said friend's house, and "it was awesome." Or they wonder why they're not spending winter break at Disney World like their friends. Her reply is hilarious and relatable, "When $7K falls down from the sky into my hands."

But the real struggles goes beyond just keeping up with expensive playdates. She worries that their "humble 100+-year-old house with the rickety stairs and small bedrooms and not a lot to do" can't compare to their friends' lavish homes—where entire basements have been converted into playrooms, complete with air hockey and rock climbing.

When rich kids do come over, they seem underwhelmed by her family's simpler lifestyle. And to top it off, she can't help but feel self-conscious when their parents arrive to pick them up in Ferraris, casually scanning her home filled with, "mixed-matched furniture and cats scurrying everywhere."

She admits that she'd never tell her children these thoughts—she doesn't want them to feel self-conscious, too. But, deep down, she wishes her kids could find "friends who also have moms with messy hair and messy little homes whose basements are just basements!"

I get it. Some days, it stings to think about the day when my daughter will grow up and notice how big other friends' houses are or what other families are or are not able to afford. For now, we don't talk about it. Maybe because she's only 8 years old, but currently, she is content with what she has, excited to see how other families do things, and never seems to compare.

My husband, however, grew up in a very different reality—an affluent town where many of his friends were driving cars that cost as much as our house. His classmates had several vacation homes and live-in staff. For them, it was a way of life and all they knew. My husband's family moved to the area for the stellar public school education—which meant they were living in a modest townhouse community, not a multi-acre estate.

And yet, my husband never felt out of place. He found a group of friends that maybe had a lot more material things but never made him feel less than them. The house my husband grew up in was one his friends enjoyed spending time at and were drawn to. I've heard stories of his parents coming home to find his friends—sometimes without him—sitting at the kitchen table, eating cereal because they had let themselves in. Maybe those friends had Olympic size pools and guest houses to hang out in, but they preferred the comfort and ease of my husband's childhood home.

That's not to say that comparison and insecurity don't creep in when you're surrounded by excess. It's natural. But how we frame those feelings—and the perspective we give our kids—makes all the difference.

And that's exactly what played out in the comments of the viral post.

One user, thought his family was doing well until his 7-year-old son made friends with kids in a nearby luxury subdivision. He took it as an opportunity to explain to him that "different jobs earn different salaries and even then, people spend their money in different ways. Two families could make the same money, but one decides to spend it all on a fancy home and stuff, and the other lives modestly and saves like crazy to retire early or maybe travel instead."

Another commenter explained how she lives among big houses—but her home is in the only strip of rentals in the whole neighborhood. Yes, sometimes it makes her a little sad when her daughter asks why she can't paint her room, get a trampoline or have a big pool—she's not embarrassed in any way.

As she perfectly explains, "I think that a whole lot of people are living paycheck to paycheck and barely on top of their bills or in a ton of debt. I'm on my debt-free journey and hope to buy a modest house one day. Honestly [my daughter and I] spend more time outside gardening, biking, going for walks, and going to the library/beaches/parks and I don't need a giant house with endless upkeep to maintain. Your kid is not going to look back on life and care that you didn't have the biggest house in the neighborhood. I'd focus on giving your kid a great childhood with great memories."

On the other hand, a user commented that parents should "make friends with the rich parents." In her comment, she explained she gets financial aid for her kids to go to a private school and acknowledges that some of those families have MONEY. "But most of them are laid back and secretly as much of a hot mess as I am lol—get to know them, actually know them. Make your house the fun house by having cool activities planned. Invite the parents over to chat while the kids play, and just serve wine and some nice cheeses from Aldi."

For me, I just care that my family cultivates friendships that have nothing to do with money or status and everything to do with making memories and building a chosen family. We live in Fairfield, CT, a town with mansions on one corner and modest capes on the other. Some families have pools and country club memberships. Others have a beach pass and a steady stream of fun weekend plans in town.

I honestly have no idea how much our friends make. I don't pay attention to the label on their handbags or car models, and I certainly don't discuss those details with my daughter. What matters to me is that these friends make us laugh and are good shoulders to cry on. We focus on creating a warm and cozy home that everyone—kids and adults—want to hang out in and make memories. They can pull up in a Porsche or a moped, I really don't care. I've learned that when you find good friends that you can trust and enjoy—hold on tight. And if they bring wine? Even better! Because by the way? The cheaper stuff is usually the best!