FollowAlright, I’m writing this from a dark place.
I’m Marshmallow the Snow Monster. (Not Elsa from Frozen!)
You heard right. My preference for espresso over black coffee has forever condemned me to a frigid, bloated, dyspeptic future as a giant snow monster, despite the fact that I’m totally Elsa. (Although my horror over this verdict did produce a spectacularly demonic meltdown worthy of flaming marshmallow).
Go ahead, try it on BuzzFeed: What character from Frozen are you?
BuzzFeed’s failure to recognize my obvious flair and fabulousness points to extreme shortcomings in the system’s operation. BuzzFeed compartmentalizes personalities. It breaks down whole characters and countries and animal species into specific traits, delivering caricatures of their identities that can be matched to colors or favorite childhood books or favorite drinks.
Compartmentalized beyond recognition.
This is the beauty of the BuzzFeed quiz. I never before considered that the little details could metonymically represent my overall identity. It’s healthy to think that these habits, patterns, and predilections, heretofore dismissed as mundane, contribute to my lifestyle in a larger sense.
Results that thrill and delight remind me of what I’m trying to be and of what I want others to see in me. I learn as much when I get “bad” results. I envy Elsa and her pizazz, her flair, her daring… I don’t want her whole identity, just a few traits that I don’t see in myself. Mostly her magical powers.
And, BuzzFeed presents these discrepancies to us. It shows us what we are and what we aren’t. It’s fun. But BuzzFeed belongs to the same class of fun as the Magic-8 Ball and fortune cookies. The results aren’t eternal judgment; our response to them says more about us.
Sometimes my results make about as much sense as this.
The problem is, we’re conditioned to ignore that response and treat the results as objective reality. The BuzzFeed obsession feeds on our desire for approval and direction, our insecurities and uncertainties. We crave guidance from providence, not only because it’s insanely gratifying to believe that we align with our favorite characters and celebrities, but because we don’t know ourselves very well.
Damned if BuzzFeed hasn’t occasionally stumped me better than my math final. What is my favorite color, after all? What drink do I like best? Where would I want to live? How would my friends describe me?
Basically.
And then I caught myself thinking – what’s the right answer? What answer gets me Elsa, or Princess Tiana, or Rachel from Friends? What answer tells me that I’m sushi? That I’m a standard poodle? That I’m…I’m… Hi. I’m Jesslyn. Sharp, shy, aloof, creative, blonde, and a little too practical for Elsa. And a little too silly for Tiana. A little too chocolate for sushi, and a little too tiger for poodle.
Rather than guess my way through a quiz chasing Elsa or some other equally desirable pseudo-identity, I’d like to sit down and really puzzle through these questions. What is my ideal super power? What does that say about me? Can super power preference say anything about a person’s identity?
I don’t know, but I think we underestimate the effect of these snappy BuzzFeed quizzes. Habitually knocking through BuzzFeed quizzes in pursuit of a preordained answer reinforces insecurities. It’s bad science to approach a problem with the results in mind — repeatedly picking “right” answers over our actual preferences just teaches us to doubt ourselves more than we already do.
Those molds we’re supposed to fit? Let them go.
It’s not just BuzzFeed, though. We have personality tests, IQ games, and the SAT. We have horoscopes. We have GPAs. We have trained ourselves to internalize results that don’t fit us and maybe including mini quizzes in recreation and procrastination exacerbates the problem.
Wait, wait, I take it all back. BuzzFeed is completely reliable — I just found out my classic author soul-mate is Hemingway…
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