It seems to me that everyone in the entire world is just trying to understand who they are. It doesn’t matter who, or where they come from, how old they are, or what their gender is; in a plethora of ways, people seek to answer questions within themselves and understand how they are perceived by others. In our increasingly internet-influenced world, and among younger generations, this quest for self-discovery is reflected in social media trends surrounding “aesthetics,” media representations of character tropes, and large-scale conversations about the roles of individuality and identity in our culture. Have you ever taken an online quiz to see “Which pop album are you?” or fallen down a TikTok spiral trying to determine what eye shape you have? Are you “bunny-pretty” or “fox-pretty”? Are you more of an “office siren” type or a “girl-next-door” type? What does listening to a certain artist say about you? Would your friends say you’re more of a “manic pixie dream girl” or a “wife that dies at the beginning of the movie”? Can your interests and preferences be reduced to you being an “alternative-indie pick me girl” or a “male-manipulator”? Have you ever opened the comments section of a video to see someone asking, ironically or not, “What core is this?”
Our culture has formed a (mostly) silly obsession with curating and operating within “aesthetics,” comparing ourselves to archetypes, and describing our identities with external attributes. While our painfully-human desperation to understand ourselves through these means is mostly harmless, when blown out of proportion, it can lead to the development of a skewed sense of self and unhealthy perceptions of ourselves and others.Â
Our tendency to nitpick, rank, and order people (so as to avoid doing the work to understand them) prevents them from truly understanding their authentic selves, with their specific needs, flaws, and inclinations. This disingenuous reliance on knowing caricatures of people rather than their true selves translates into dating, friendships, and our own self-image. We gravitate towards certain “types” of people, assuming they are the same as others who are their same “type” and with whom we’ve had good experiences. We subscribe to gender norms, and perform and uphold the gender binary even if we don’t want to; we more covertly objectify women by typecasting them, and criticizing them for being said type — too basic, or too pretentious, trying too hard or not enough, being a “pick me” or a “man-hating feminist,” a manic pixie dream girl, or a slut. So, while it can be fun and harmless to participate in trends and take inspiration from online content and culture, it’s simply important to remember that these surface level, external, and often materialistic factors do not determine our identities or value as people. They are and should remain fundamentally unserious.Â
The negative impacts of our society’s relentless need to label and classify people into archetypes can be seen in younger generations, young women especially. As hard enough as it is to come of age and formulate your own identity, there is now an added constant onslaught of noise telling you the options of what you could be, and then telling you what you are. It is pretty much impossible to exist as your authentic, unchanged self if you are so painstakingly concerned with how others perceive you; the two are mutually exclusive. Often, we long for the approval of others so deeply that we mold to fit their ideas of who we are. We attempt to understand ourselves and others by simplifying our complex, unique, and ever-evolving states of being into an amalgamation of surface-level stereotypes that are more comfortable for us to conceptualize; it is far easier and faster to operate based on preconceived notions and generalizations than it is to commit to the time, potential discomfort, vulnerability, and selflessness required to truly know, understand, and love someone.Â
Ultimately, you are a person, not an archetype. You are not defined by your clothes, your music taste, your online presence, or “what kind of pretty” you are. Ultimately, you are uniquely your own combination — you cannot be defined by a set of criteria, or categorized and compartmentalized into neatly separate boxes. You will probably never fully fit any one standard of beauty or success, and I can almost guarantee that despite your greatest efforts, you will never gain everyone’s approval and it is actually impossible for you to please everyone. Though it sounds, in theory, like the ultimate solution, morphing yourself into what other people want you to be is just pointless busy-work based in farce. We waste so much time in self-centeredness, insecurity, impatience, distraction and avoidance. We stunt the potential growth of our relationships in our fear of vulnerability and futile efforts to evade pain, loss, and heartbreak.Â
I feel that it is crucial — no matter how silly it may seem — that we combat and prevent these narratives and thought processes from influencing us too deeply. We must maintain our ability to discern our internal instincts and reason from these counterproductive, dehumanizing, and immature ideas about people. We cannot allow surface-level factors and noise to determine how we perceive and interact with others or ourselves. In our indefinite quests for understanding and the ever-changing nature of our identities, genuine connections are possible when built — over time — with mutual trust, reciprocated emotional vulnerability, equal effort from those involved, and the ability to accept people as they truly are, unromanticized flaws and baggage included. Our distinctly human, insatiable need to understand and control ourselves and others is, in my opinion, much better when utilized as redirected energy towards understanding, accepting, and loving others and ourselves.Â