Growing up I always wanted to be picked for stuff, the teacher needed someone to read, my hand was up, needed someone to send my hand was up, needed someone to clean the board, I was on my feet. Now that I look back, that's where my pick me tendencies were birthed. The little things grew to big things, as I hit puberty I started to wonder why the boys I liked never liked me back (or pick me) or why the cool kids never picked me to be in their squad, this affected my confidence and how I viewed myself, I felt I wasn't good enough or pretty enough. The older I grew, I got so engrossed in wanting to be picked by others that I started to lose my own identity. Being a pick-me dictated how I should look, dress,act and all that so I could fit in. But you see, these things don't last, you can only fit in for so long (remember what happened to Lindsey Lohan in Mean Girls?) The truth eventually catches up with you. That bridge you kept saying you'll cross when you get there? , y