living in a world that never picks me
pick me choose me love me
“we accept the love we think we deserve.” — stephen chbosky, the perks of being a wallflower. often times the world feels like a trap and i find myself struggling to understand why i’m on this planet if things are meant to never go my way. this post is a genuine attempt to rationalize this feeling that i’m sure a lot of people have experienced.
for a school as technologically advanced as mit, mit secure really struggles to hold up especially when you have a thermo pset due in 5 minutes— a situation i found myself in two days ago. so i did what anyone else would in such a sitch:
i played the dinosaur game.
the one with the lowkey ugly, care-free, pixelated t-rex that jumps over cacti in an endless desert. i could not name you one person who opens their browser thinking, “damn i really can’t wait to play that fuckass dino game today.” it really is just a last resort, a way to pass the time when everything else doesn’t work. but it’s there, waiting super silently, knowing it’s not the first choice— but it exists anyways.
i often feel like that little dino1.
pixelated, alone, sad, second choice. you name it!
living life as the perennial second choice is like occupying a space where you’re seen but not truly noticed. and it’s not talked about enough because it’s not that you’re completely invisible, you’re just not the first thing that comes to mind.
smart enough to get an A on a diffeq test but not smart enough to actually understand it. kind enough to love and give back to everyone but not kind enough to get it back. pretty enough to be fucked but not loved.
this pattern showed up time and time again and ended up being clear as day: i am consistently good enough but never exceptional in the eyes of everything and everyone. and after a while, i started to internalize it: i see myself as the second choice, the one that doesn’t quite measure up. and it’s not that i crave the limelight or need constant validation but there’s a unique kind of fatigue that comes from being perpetually almost but not quite— giving so much of yourself and feeling like it’s barely noticed.
but i think over time i just began to accept this fuckass role: through elementary, middle and high school— i was the older daughter. the backup friend. the support system. the one freaking out in silence. some people are just meant to be the second choice. not everyone is destined for greatness or to be the center of someone’s world. there’s a quiet dignity in being the reliable one, and the steady presence in the background. well atleast i think.
yet, there are moments when i wonder about the cumulative effect of always being the runner up. does it chip away at self-esteem over time? does it influence the choices we make or the risks we avoid?
as i write this, i ask even more questions about if striving for more is even worth it. why even push to be the first choice? maybe it’s better to just lower expectations. but then there’s the other part of me that whispers “is this really all there is?” but challenging the status quo is way too chalant and exhausting and it requires this overwhelming sense of energy and optimism that i just do not have.
it’s a delicate balance between selflessness and the human need for recognition. we’re social creatures and we’re wired to seek connection and validation. denying that feels disingenuous but dwelling on it feels selfish.
so where does this leave me?
perhaps it’s about redefining what being “picked” means. there’s the tiktok standard of pick me girls that i simply cannot deal with but in the larger scheme of things maybe it’s not just about the external validation but finding solace in the contributions i make, however, unnoticed they may be. that quiet strength.
maybe it’s also about understanding that value isn’t solely determined externally. there’s intrinsic value in who we are and what we bring to the table. maybe the real challenge lies in acknowledge our own worth.
but is that enough?
some days, i convince myself it is. other days, i wonder if i’m using acceptance as a shield against the fear of pushing for more and fucking up. i don’t have answers and this isn’t one of my default motivational speeches with a neatly wrapped conclusion. it’s an ongoing journey and a reality that many of us navigate every single day. living as a second choice isn’t glamorous or particularly fulfilling, but it’s super real. and the key is acknowledging the complexity of these feelings without forcing that resolution. to sit with the discomfort and accept that you will forever feel undervalued and it’s okay to feel like that and it’s okay to continue.
because sometimes we’re just the supporting characters in stories that aren’t our own. and sometimes that’s just part of being human.
i think back to that dinosaur game again. it doesn’t aspire to be more than it is. it sits there staying pixelated and sad and alone and doesn’t update or change. it exists in its simplicity and it serves its purpose when it needs to.
maybe there’s a lesson in that.
about finding peace in our roles even when they aren’t the ones we envisioned for ourselves and recognizing that being the second choice doesn’t diminish our worth— it just means we play a part in someone else’s story in a different way.
the lane to rory gilmore, the dr. watson to sherlock holmes, the ron weasley to harry potter, the luigi to mario, the robin to batman, and so much more.
there’s this japanese concept i learned about months ago called “wabi-sabi” which finds beauty in imperfection and impermanence. it embraces the flaws and the incomplete and the transient and i often think that being the second choice is our own form of wabi-sabi— a state that, while not ideal, carries its own unique beauty and lessons.
and those lessons shape us, leave marks, and alter our paths. they add depth and a certain wisdom that can’t be gained otherwise. so naturally i started to apply this mindset to my own life for as long as i can remember. being second isn’t a deficiency, it’s just a different perspective.
it lets me observe, to understand nuances that other people might miss. and i find myself being more empathetic, more attuned to others who felt invisible. i could spot subtle signs of someone being left out, the fake smiles and laughs, and because i recognized it, i could reach out in ways others didn’t.
or maybe that’s my form of delusion because all the bullshit i was told in 5th grade about “golden rule this golden rule that” was simply just lies. what goes around does not come around and i am not treated the way i treat everyone else.
so naturally, i started wondering if there was something actually fundamentally fucked up with me.
“but anjali you have so much going for you!” and while i appreciate that sentiment, it makes me feel even more batshit.
maybe the real issue isn’t that we’re the second choice, but that society places so much emphasis on being first. winning. and being the best. we’ve been conditioned to believe that anything less than extraordinary is failure.
van gogh only sold one painting in his lifetime.
emily dickinson’s poetry was only recognized after she died.
mendel’s work on genetics was ignored until decades after he died.
kafka asked for his manuscripts to be destroyed when he died but now they’re impeccable works of art.
so i started to think— what if being second isn’t a limitation but instead an opportunity?
outside looking in.
so i began to carve out this new space for myself. and it’s definitely not a perfect solution. there are still days when the weight of being overlooked feels heavy, when i crave the kind of recognition that seems so easily granted to others. but those moments are interspersed with a growing acceptance. and growth is subtle.
in the end, maybe it’s just less about being picked by others and instead picking ourselves, accepting the roles we play, and finding meaning within them. we won’t always be the first choice, the pretty one, the favorite, the smart one, the one who stands out in a crowd— but there’s a reason we’re here.
and this certainly isn’t a call to settle or stop striving for more if that’s what you want. its simply just an acknowledgement that sometimes, despite our efforts, we remain in the background. your presence matters, even when it’s not celebrated. and your story is worth telling, even if it’s whispered rather than shouted.
because at the end of the day, being real is more important than being first.
we are complex beings living in a complex world. and in that messiness, there’s room for all of us— the first choices, the second ones, and everyone in between.
there’s value in unexpected places, in roles we didn’t choose but find ourselves in. and there’s value in you. because it’s not about being picked first but instead about embracing where we are. and maybe, just maybe, i’ll realize that’s enough.
and perhaps, like the dinosaur game that appears when everything else fails, our true worth shines hella bright not when we’re the first choice, but when we’re the needed one. life has a really funny way of surprising us and the roles we play do change. and until then, our story is still worth living.
even the dinosaur has its moments.
you can actually intentionally get to the dino game by typing chrome://dino/ into your web browser, go give him some love
amazing read