Shopping, chocolate, gossip, self-deprecation. These are all major components to my life. So much so, in fact, that my boyfriend has taken to calling me a Cathy Comic. And, I don’t disagree. That bitch had it going on; SHE HAD HER OWN COMIC STRIP.
But apparently, I’m not just a Cathy. I’m also a Daria, whom I received as the result of my “Which 90’s Babe is Your Style Icon” Buzzfeed quiz. And, again, I don’t disagree. I’m totally a Daria. I even have a Jane, who coincidently ended up with Angela Chase as her 90’s babe.
But, I have to ask, is it possible to be both a Cathy and a Daria? They couldn’t be more different.
I think the answer is a resounding: YEEEEEEES!
It’s human nature to stereotype, compartmentalize, and generalize other human beings. It’s a fundamental way that we interpret the world around us. It’s easier to comprehend something that is already known, so we familiarize situations and people by putting them into little buckets to better understand them.
“Oh, you remind me of Kaitlyn from middle school. You must be just like Kaitlyn from middle school. I now understand who are, and how to deal with you.” But she’s not Kaitlyn.
It’s just easier that way. I get it. I do it. All. The. Time.
BUT, my cartoon doppelgängers were a nice reminder that we aren’t just one thing. No one is just a Carrie (GOD WILLING), or a Serena, a Phoebe, a Hannah, or a Marne. It’s a dumb game to play because we’re all very complex people.
It’s all too easy to forget, or to ignore, because it’s really difficult to understand complex people and situations. And unfortunately, we’re only going to become more complicated as we get older, and the world is only going to get bigger and cloudier. To speak in prolific metaphor, we’re all growing snowballs barreling down a hill.
Sure, I might exclusively dress like a dude in his dive bar best and only speak in sarcasms, but I also insisted on seeing Something Borrowed on opening night because I was THAT excited about a romantic comedy starring Ginnifer Goodwin and regularly tweet about everything spilled on my shirt. I have Hallmark movies championing true love saved on my DVR, and yet, I can’t accept Valentine’s Day cookies from my boyfriend without an eye-roll (I know I’m a monster).
It’s hard to say that anyone is just one thing.
I am a Cathy. I am a Daria. And I’m probably also a Peggy, a Monica, and maybe even a Betty Boop. I’m a lot of things. And it makes me think, isn’t it sort of amazing how many fictional characters it takes to define just one of you.
Heather is a contributing editor at the-dah. She is a Los Angeles based writer, improviser, snacker, social media mistress, and aspiring adult. Read more of her food-stained stories about growing up weird at Terrible-Twenties.com, or follow her digital alter ego @MissHezah on Twitter.
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