DISCONTENT WITH THIS CONTENT

Do you listen to Tame Impala? Have you seen The Office? Which is your favourite Christopher Nolan movie? What Hogwarts house are you in? Which fandom do you base your personality on? What even is a personality? Do you even have one?

If 13 year old me had a Twitter account, my bio would have said ‘Dauntless Hufflepuff daughter of Apollo’. I would have sighed with satisfaction at that slew of mostly made up words (wait aren’t all words made up?) and thought, “wow, V, you really knocked it out of the park with this description of yourself, it’s literally everything that people need to know about you.”

When I was 15 my Whatsapp status said ‘Mutant and proud’ and my 17 year old self scribbled Hozier lyrics on the back of all her notebooks.

Once I made my way into Instagram’s bizarre universe, I would post scenes from movies and clips from shows on my story in hopes of sucking one of my poor followers into the pop culture rabbit hole with me.

I lived and breathed Netflix during the pandemic and made sure that everyone knew what shows I was watching by launching into random rants that no one gave a damn about.

I made playlists and posted them on social media to keep everyone updated on my music taste. Once I discovered podcasts, they became my new hyperfixation. I would post niche, obscure content to feel like the most unique hipster manic pixie in the world. So Alt. So far away from the mainstream. So original.

But how can one ever be original if their personality is just a remix of pre-existing pieces of media? How can one be original when they’re just a xerox of a xerox? How can one be original if they reference a show about a talking horse while trying to make a point about being original? One can’t. One must acccept their unoriginality.

Even with every single sensory receptor overwhelmed by content, I’d still feel empty. Hollow. I had failed to develop a sense of self that existed outside the realm of fictitious entertainment. Completely consumed by the content I was consuming, the cognitive dissonance caused by being originally unoriginal left me discontent and disconnected.

(Ok, I like alliteration)

Who was I without all those things that I liked and hailed as my characteristic features? Outside of all those quirks and tastes, I realised that I was nothing special. Disheartening, I know. But 3 years and a lot of therapy later, I understood that I wasn’t supposed to be special, I was supposed to be me. And once the mist of self-loathing cleared, I finally met me. And guess what? I thought she was actually pretty cool. She was kind and funny and smart and creative and really, really weird. She didn’t need a single ‘made up’ word (you know what I mean) to describe her.

She was perfect.

Coming of age movies are usually set in high schools because, ideally, that’s when one comes of age and discovers themselves.

But instead of that, high schoolers turn into baby wannabe Weeknders who say the N word because ‘it sounds cool, bro’ and little ladies that sharpen their liners and start a smoking habit to connect with their dark feminine higher self (who is of course, Lana Del Ray).

Tweens go down the Asian fusion spiral and come out as either Otakus or Army- you know, the Ramen vs Ramyeon battle.

Kids get ready to go to war for Man U and spill blood for the GOAT.

And then there's the Swifties. The Swifties.

Eventually, some parts of yourself start to bleed through. You get older. You get bored-er. Your favourite artist releases a new album and you can’t get yourself to listen to it because they don’t sound as good as they did in 2013. It becomes a task to keep up with Netflix and Instagram’s reel section obliterates your reading habit. Slowly you realise that you don’t care about Harry Potter or the MCU anymore. You care about beer. And coupon codes for cheaper Uber rides. And free shipping. Your personality becomes ‘Adult’.

And if in those earlier ‘coming of age’ years, you didn’t discover who you were outside the pop culture bubble, then you turn into the yellow lays packet equivalent of ‘Adult’. Flavour comes from within and if your insides aren’t nourished, you will find yourself perpetually salty.

It’s easy to go through life without really peeling back your layers and meeting a rawer version of yourself. But since that person is going to be your only constant companion through this whole life nonsense, maybe finding and understanding them should be a priority, right? Right.

So,

Do you know what matters most to you? What are your values? How do you make yourself feel loved? Where do you draw the lines? What do you think you were put on this earth for?

What makes you, you?