The Brightsiders

"You and I have the same problem, you know that?" they ask. I chuckle. "Yeah, we`re surrounded by assholes." They laugh, nodding. "Okay, so maybe we have two problems." They count on their fingers. "Surrounded by assholes, and people pleasing. You know what happens when you combine the two? You get taken advantage of. You try to save people. You become a helpaholic." I don`t try to deny it. It`s not the first time someone has called me out for being a people pleaser. Kass would always try to get me out of the people-pleasing habit in school. I was that kid who was so desperate to be liked that I lent people money, gave them the answers to all the tests, let them copy my homework. Once, in ninth grade, a girl stole one of my photo prints for photography class and handed it in to the teacher as her own, and I did nothing because I wanted to be her friends. Kas wanted to kill me when she found out I gave my parents money last year. She always sad I let them walk all over me. And now that I`m famous, people are falling over themselves to be friends with me, and yet all I do is exhaust myself trying to please them. I don`t know hwy, maybe I`m just super insecure, but I have this intense need to be liked. If someone doesn`t like me — or even expresses a different opinion than me — it makes me judge myself. I know it`s unhealthy and screwed up and destined to be a massive failure, but my self-esteem is entirely dependent on what other people think of me. "We have to stop," I say. "Like, right now." "The dating assholes or the people pleasing?" "Both." Chloe fake cries. "But assholes are always so hot!" I laugh. "Hey, hotness fades. Assholery is forever."