I used to think that the best thing about being famous was that everyone would know me—my name, my face, my music. Then reality set in.

After several years of working really hard-to-score roles on Nickelodeon shows and Disney sitcoms, I finally made it big. I would walk into hotel rooms when I was first touring with Six Degrees of Separation, and there would be dozens of white lilies (my favorite flower), bags of York Peppermint Patties (my favorite candy), piles of white teddy bears (modeled after my character’s favorite stuffed animal on Secrets of My Teenage Life) and dozens of bottles of Clean perfume (my favorite scent) waiting for me, gifts from overzealous fans who had read every magazine article I’d ever been featured in. I thought it was really cool that my fans knew me.

Sure, they had never met me. But all I had to do was answer some reporters’ questions every once in a while, giggle through a Tonight Show interview with Jay Leno and make friends with the paparazzi and suddenly, I was everyone’s favorite pop star.

But it’s not like it was easy. While other kids were out playing freeze tag and going to sleepovers and passing notes in class, I was pursuing a career. Spending pilot season in L.A., working with vocal coaches, choreographers, dance instructors, personal trainers, guitar teachers, acting coaches, and media trainers. It was a full-time job.

And it paid off.

I was in my first touring musical by the time I was six and had guest spots on soap operas by eight. At nine, I scored a small role in an M. Night Shyamalan movie and landed the Family Business gig, and at ten, I was cast in the lead role in Secrets of My Teenage Life. After three years on the show, I recorded my debut pop album, and the first single hit number three on the Billboard charts within two weeks of its release. We released my second album right after I turned fourteen, the same year Secrets of My Teenage Life went off the air after a great four-year run, and we decided to focus on my music career.

Two years later? I have two Grammys and every one of my five albums has sold over a million copies. I sell out stadium shows all over the world, and “my people” are constantly fielding film offers, potential music collaborations and endorsement deals. I like it, for the most part. But sometimes it would be nice to be normal, although I have no idea what “normal” would really feel like.

I guess I’ll never know.