March 5, 2025
Written by: Hannah Field | Editor-in-Chief
Content warning: this article discusses fictional violence, suicidal ideation and spoilers for “Grey’s Anatomy”
“Pick me. Choose me. Love me.”
Meredith Grey, nailed as the original “pick-me girl,” once begged her romantic interest — Derek Shepherd — to love her in season two of “Grey’s Anatomy,” a well-known medical drama that’s still ongoing. More than a decade later, the line has been connected to embarrassing tactics performed by women or girls who are “not like other girls” in hopes of gaining attention.
Well, believe me — Meredith Grey was never a “pick-me girl.”
The words of @dylanpcarlino on TikTok put it best: “Meredith Grey has spent her entire life being neglected and running from any real feeling. That speech is the very first time she’s ever said to another person exactly what she wants. She’s embarrassed by love. I think it was important for the character to stand up and say, ‘I love you. I want this.’”
Grey, raised solo by an ambitious surgeon who prioritized her career, whose father walked out of her life when she was young to start over with another family, was irrevocably abandoned. Due to this, she follows typical “neglected only-child” tropes: making her friends her family, afraid of love, self-sufficient, self-sacrificing and, in many instances, lacking self-preservation to the point of near-death.
Chances are, Grey’s lack of self-worth in the early works of the show stems from the abandonment she suffered in childhood. Secondly, her ability to sacrifice herself for others comes from the same place, that family is rare to come by and she can help others the way nobody helped her. Additionally, Grey faced an insurmountable amount of expectations to be great due to her mother’s historical work in the surgical field. She wasn’t just a neglected kid — she was the daughter of a star surgeon, whose life was cut short too soon, leaving unfulfilled goals and large shoes for Grey to fill.
And, even after receiving the love from Shepherd that she begged for, Grey pushes him away throughout the show, often neglecting conflict resolution skills. Nobody in her life modeled healthy relationships, plainly visible in her background and through her poor coping skills.
Online theorists have characterized Meredith Grey as self-preservation four — ironic due to Grey’s lack of self-preservation. Multiple times over, Grey has endangered herself for “the greater good” — or for no plain reason at all. Cue the following scenes: Grey, submerged in the ocean; Grey, hand in a body cavity containing a bomb; Grey, not begging for her life when faced with a deadly weapon, instead pleading to meet her end so the life of her lover can continue.
Being a self-preservation four personality type means one is self-sacrificing to no end. They do not communicate sensitivity, suffering, shame or envy, despite their ability to feel them. In fact, they manage to submerge — haha, get it? — these emotions, masking stoicism, but secretly hoping to, one day, be rewarded with love and acceptance. This, we know, Grey wants desperately, but often enacts her perfect ability to drive others away — self-sabotage.
According to Ashlie Woods, expert with the Enneagram types, “They have a strong need to endure, so they develop an ability to do without. They put themselves in situations that are tough. They test and challenge themselves … In some cases, they may not know how to live without the stress and pressure they put on themselves. They don’t allow themselves the experience of living in or from their fragility.”
These archetypes are, however, very sensitive. Grey, around season five, is slammed with accusations that she is uncaring and insensitive — conflict-avoidant, which is true to character — resulting in one of the show’s most complex and interesting storylines. Grey and Shepherd work on a patient who currently serves a sentence on death row, with Grey showing the murderer extended compassion, much to Shepherd’s dislike. This can be analyzed in multiple ways. One of these is the view that Grey is extending compassion to the ones who do not receive it. Perhaps she is looking to understand the misunderstood, as she so often feels, maybe love the unlovable. Or, maybe, she feels the desire to open up to another human — but can’t afford yet for it to be someone who cares for her. No matter the reason, Grey exhibitsed traits much unlike those of a traditional protagonist or hero.
Many other scenes reflect Grey’s inner turmoil. In one of the most well-known episodes, “Into You Like a Train,” the trolley problem is brought to life: pick one patient to save and condemn the other to death. When the unlucky patient is pulled aside and left to die, Grey is the only one on her team — seeing this patient as a reflection of herself, abandoned with nobody to save her. This, of course, is pointless, leading to the concept of self-saving — maybe nobody can help Grey but herself.
Not even love can save Meredith Grey. She loses her husband in season 11 rather abruptly, but decades of growth in her character have taught her that her healing is her own, and her life, even if lived alone, has value.
The characterization of Grey — her depression, mommy and daddy issues, fear of commitment and love, lack of coping mechanisms — all culminate in an older, wiser character by the end of the show. She becomes a mother and an award-winning surgeon, both important to her — what her mother could not balance — but, throughout it all, Grey does not fundamentally change. She keeps her wit, her dry humor and, somehow, most importantly, her ability to find danger anywhere. Her character is a testament to neglected only children, self-preservation fours and otherwise misunderstood viewers, showcasing that healing is more complex and doesn’t work like a cookie cutter — it won’t spit out a happy, healed, sunshine-y person at the end. She is persistently stubborn, unrelenting and reckless, but, by the end of the show, content with her life, her family and her work, which may be the only things Meredith Grey ever wished for.
Contact the author at howleditorinchief@wou.edu
