I’ve always been fascinated by systems that purport to know who you are and what you’re like based on when you were born, the results of a personality test, etc. For instance, according to the Myers-Briggs typology classification system, I am an INTJ. That stands for Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Judging. According to this classification, I am A) a unicorn (I knew it!)–apparently, INTJs are so rare as to make up 0.8% of the female population–and, B) a robot. I am often perceived as emotionally distant and I make decisions based on reason rather than emotion. I live mostly in my head, I’m not personable, I’m blunt, and I don’t bother lying because I don’t care what other people think. I love structure and organization but hate rules, and I would rather chew off my own arm than talk about my feelings. Or your feelings. Really, just feelings in general are anathema to me, I’m told.
I am also a Scorpio. That means I’m intense, passionate, and filled with desire, which is just awkward given the whole INTJ robot thing. I can be jealous and vindictive when I’m overcome by the aforementioned intense passions, but I am also a caring and devoted lover and am by most accounts supposed to be quite lusty (I know several ex-boyfriends with whom I will not be sharing this blog post specifically because of the helpless laughter some of these “attributes” will cause). I can be cunning and sadistic, but I’m also dynamic, magnetic, and have a hypnotic personality with a marked dark side. People find themselves drawn to my mysterious and exciting persona (again, not sharing this with ex-boyfriends).
Then, just when I’m trying to reconcile all these different, mutually exclusive traits, it turns out that I was born in the year of the Monkey per the Chinese zodiac. People born in the year of the monkey are curious, mischievous, and clever. We are also dishonest and manipulative, so I guess INTJ monkeys are just doomed to a life of violent inner conflict. As a monkey, I am supposed to be a playful prankster whose favorite activity is people-watching, and I am considered warm-hearted, gregarious, and likable. I am a warm-hearted, emotionally distant, gregarious, introverted horn dog who attracts people with my mysterious, blunt mischievousness. Man, I really am a unicorn! I went through each list to see if there was even one attribute that the monkey, the scorpion, and the unicorn all have in common. Turns out, there is.
We’re all the most likely type to be the model for fictional villains.
This would have come in handy on Career Day back in school. Instead of pamphlets on accounting, medicine, and law, I could have been reading about How to Invade Fictional Territories and Minions: Slaves or Sacrifices? I could have taken a seminar in Boris and Natasha and gone to workshops for moustache twirling (tricky for girls) and evil laughs (very important: you don’t want to end up cackling when what you really want is a good mwah-ha-ha). Risk would have taken on a whole new meaning, not to mention Clue. Ooh! Monopoly! Oh, the evil laughs I could have given while playing Monopoly, if only I’d known. What a different life I might have led if all these horoscopes and categories had been around to tell me who I am. I could be dooming Narnia to eternal winter as we speak.
Or I could, you know, try to figure out who I actually am as opposed to who someone tells me I am. Controversial, I know, but allow me to quote my good friend Socrates: “To find yourself, think for yourself.” Now that’s a typology system I can get behind!