It is partially insecurities. But the other part is that it is hard to talk with him. I hide a lot from him. Not out of malice. Just so he doesnt know how impoverished I am. Or how many people I'm taking care of. Or how tired I am. And when he shares these photos of his seemingly perfect life; beaches, sushi platters, high end clothing, luxurious home. It all just makes me remember how hard I'm surviving to care for myself and others. And none of this is his fault. He barely knows. It's not so much insecurity as it is that I hate surviving just enough And I help others I love who need my money more than me. And I secretly wish I could be on a beach.