A Different Kind of Heather

The Heather trend has been taking Tik Tok by storm. It’s based on the song by Conan Gray titled “Heather”. An ode to being the second choice, it has resonated with listeners everywhere. The lyrics,“Why would you ever kiss me? / I'm not even half, as pretty / You gave her your sweater / ... / Wish I were Heather,” are relatable to most, unless, of course, you are Heather yourself.

Most of the Tik Toks are montages of the “Heathers” at people’s schools. Others are POVs of the Heathers actually struggling with insecurities. No matter what angle the video takes there’s an obvious theme, the same one that’s present in the song – “I wish I were Heather.”

What’s so compelling about Heather? What’s the big fuss about? Well, everyone loves her because she’s so likable, but they wish they could hate how perfect she is. She’s prettier than you, smarter than you, nicer than you. She’s the homecoming queen and valedictorian. What’s so cool to me is this person Conan Gray sings about has become a tangible personality. It's someone everyone wishes they could be because no one wants to be the second choice. When you’re Heather, everyone chooses you.

I had listened to this song when it first came out, as I had the whole album and it was interesting for me to see the entirety of TikTok’s take on it when my feeling listening to the song was very different. Granted, there’s something in always being the second choice to other people but when I first heard the song, that wasn’t my initial thought. Yes, I want to be the first choice for others. More than that, I want to be the first choice for myself. 

I pick school and extracurriculars over myself. I lived an entire year tired because I believed my grades were my worth. My weekends, unhappy, because I believed rankings defined me. All this, because maybe if my grades were good, maybe if I got first place – I could be my first choice. Maybe then the happiness I denied myself would magically appear. 

I picked my friends over myself. I neglected to set boundaries and was there every time my friends needed me. Even as I was drowning in my own thoughts, I made them my priority. I picked the boys I would write poems about over myself. Riddled with long phone calls and endless laughter, I used that as the instrument to my happiness. I chose for them to give me my sense of validation instead of searching for it within myself. I’ve been so afraid that people who meant the world to me didn’t care as much about me as I did them. So afraid that they would go and forget me, I didn’t consider that they could be the ones missing out.

I picked apart every mistake I ever made and stitched it into the sweater that Conan Gray sings about. I held it above my head and wished I could move on from it. 

I’ve been the second choice – more times than I can count. And every single time, it hits me like a truck. Every time I think I could have been chosen first, every time I wished I were Heather, I’m not. The thing that makes me different from seemingly everyone else who listens to the song, is when I am the second choice, as it happens, I don’t wish I were Heather. Normally, I’m besties with Heather, and I make sure they and whoever I wished would choose me to end up together. That can be applied to anything, too. I make sure school and success always end up together, and I’m on the sidelines wondering why that doesn’t make me happy. I make sure my friends and happiness are always paired, leaving me wishing there was some left for me, too. Or, I liked someone and made sure they ended up with who they really liked. Hint: it wasn’t me. 

Worse, I’ve never been blindsided by any of this. Instead of looking on and ‘wishing I were Heather,” I tell myself none of these things have any reason to choose me. I think to myself, ‘How can I expect them to choose me? I wouldn’t even choose me. I don’t choose me.’

This isn’t to say you aren’t worthy of love if you don’t believe that you are, because that’s not true. It’s more so about how much better will someone else’s love and appreciation for you feel if you believe you deserve it? If you’re always wondering why they stick around instead of knowing it’s because you’re worth it, isn’t that tiring? I know it’s absolutely exhausting for me. Being someone else’s first choice must be great, but does it really matter if you value their choice over your own? 

The vital question I had to ponder: how many times will I continue to make myself a second choice? A third choice, fourth choice? How much time will it take for me to finally pick me over everyone and everything else possible?

I want to mess up on assignments and be okay with it. I want to place dead last and be happy that I had fun, anyway. I want to smile and tell my friends that I want to help them, but I'm not in the position at the moment. I want to write a love poem to myself. I want to watch the collection I’ve kept of my mistakes unravel at the seams and not taunt me anymore.

This year, I want to learn how to be a different kind of Heather. I don’t want to care so much if anyone chooses me. I want to be the Heather that chooses herself. Don’t be afraid to choose yourself over other people that make you unhappy, habits that make you unhappy. It can be hard, and it doesn’t come all at once. Most of the time, it’s an uphill battle. In the end, though, it will always be worth it. Choosing yourself will always be more fulfilling than anything else you could choose.