My freshman year of college, I was a mess of epic proportions.
One night, at my brother’s house (he was kind enough to let me halfway live with him when I wasn’t in the dorms), I turned on the TV and came across a new show:
At first, I scoffed. I grew up in the days of ER and Chicago Hope. Who needed a new medical drama? Not me.
But there was nothing else on, so I watched, and became entranced by the tragic heroine of the show – Meredith Grey.
As a girl dealing with her parents’ divorce – caused by infidelity and alcoholism – I was immediately drawn to this woman who seemed to be as lost and pathetic as I was.
Fast forward a year or so to second time my first love dumped me (we always go back for seconds, no?).
I called my friend Taylor who managed to procure me a six-pack of Bud Light and a bag of salt and vinegar chips and settled in with me to watch the entire second season of Grey’s.
Talk about the perfect show to watch and feel wonderfully sorry for yourself.
I felt like I was Meredith.
Wronged by love. Wronged by her parents.
Desperately clinging to her new friends to fill the void.
Inappopriate decisions. Tequila shots. Dark and twisty.
We were kindred spirits.
After that, Thursday nights became my favorite night of television. No matter what social plans I had, I made sure I caught the newest episode of Grey’s (until DVR came into the picture).
The night my mom was in the hospital and I thought she might die, I sat in the waiting room and watched the episode where George’s father died (I didn’t go out of my way it was just serendipitously on). It was eerie. Also, I bawled like a fool in front of everyone else in that room, it was awkward.
Over the years I have come through the worst of my dark and twistiness (I hope), and come to terms with my past and all the crap I went through those first years of my adulthood.
But I’ve remained a steadfast Grey’s fan. Meredith too became less troubled with time, eventually working things out with McDreamy and getting married on a post-it.
Yet, both in the world of fictitious doctoring and in my life, the initial wounds always remain.
When you’ve had shitty things happen to you, a lot of people want to push them under the rug and act like they never happened.
Not Meredith. Not me either.
If you know me in real life, chances are I’ve told you about my hot mess days.
I’ve told you that I’m not the brightest, shiniest, or happiest of people.
I’ve blogged about it a lot as well.
You may think this makes me incredibly awkward. This may make you uncomfortable.
But I don’t care.
People like Meredith and me want you to know that the world isn’t perfect.
We also know that you can’t keep it a secret. (Remember how she never told anyone her mom was sick? Yeah, that didn’t last long.)
I know so many people who have gone through similar or worse stuff than I have, but never talk about it.
I watch how it festers inside them and they feel like they’re less than because of it. They feel like if they talk about it, people won’t like them or want to be around them anymore.
But the truth will always come out.
In my opinion, you might as well get it out in the open as early as you can.
Let people see the worst of you right up front, and if they still stick around, then you know they’re worth it.
I’ve said before that I don’t have a ton of friends, but that the ones I have are solid gold.
That’s because they know the real me, the messed up parts of me, and like me anyways.
So yeah, that’s why I’m still a Grey’s Anatomy fan.
If you can take that information, and like me anyways, then we’re good to go.
What TV character do you most relate to?
Note: That sentence should read “To what TV character do you most relate?” but that just felt wrong.