Hopefully you want something comprehensive, OP. As a kid I was very social and verbal. I liked adults, and vice versa. Sometimes I felt that my friends resented that rapport, and sometimes kids were not kind. I did my best not to become "teacher's pet" and related more to Hermione Granger than I cared to admit. Since my school system gave me a "code", a certain amount of funding was allotted to the schools I went to for my support. (I don't know details on this, sorry.) Because of my designation I had a lot of people who were interested in my education and wellbeing - definitely more on average than other kids. I don't know if it helped me or hindered me in terms of academics and being a "normal" kid, but I will never complain about it. That kind of support network was very helpful when I went though some health stuff and some mental health stuff. Granted, I was not magically supported out of my teen depression or my lingering perfectionism or my chronic migraines, but it could have been much worse for me.

The most important, essential, lifechanging thing that came from the whole thing was the year I spent in a "gifted" program. In grade seven I was suddenly in a new school, not only junior high but a junior high filled with similarly "coded" kids. I wasn't the smart one, expectations of me were high, workload was high, and I met people who had the same mindset and experiences as me for the first time. After that year I went back to my designated school, but those weird "gifted" friends have stayed in my life. We remind one another that being exceptional in a certain way isn't the only thing to know about us, and I love them. This is not to say that I think school should be segregated somehow, or that people can only latch onto their own kind or any bullshit like that. Just related personal experience.

As an adult, I think it's fair to call me a bit of an underachiever, but I do all right these days. No work ethic, intense fear of disappointing people I respect, the usual complaints. These are things I am working to overcome. Maybe there is more intellectual potential that I'm not using, but it's not like it evaporates if you don't become a doctor by 21. The priority is to be happy, and useful to society, and I have the confidence to do so thanks to my weird childhood.