Sometimes people ask what they should know about me. We’ve all been there: the dreaded “fun fact” game, where everyone must come up with something interesting about them on the spot. Or when you meet a new person, or go on a first date, and you’re asked to “tell them about yourself.” Unfortunately, I do not have some incredible account of the time I saved a baby from a moving train, or anything of the sort. I’ve never traveled to an exotic country, and I don’t have 11 toes or any other physical oddity. Even my name is the epitome of normalcy. (Katie Wilson-1 out of 1,000,000 other Katie Wilsons)

I’ve always wondered why everyone else seemed to have such amazing fun facts, such enthralling adventures, and such unique experiences, when I was stuck with a mediocre response like “I went to Florida last summer.” But after thinking a lot about my answers, I came to realize that my feelings of inadequacy are unfounded. So here is my long-form answer to my least favorite question, a question that I’ve never been able to truly respond to in one short sentence:

I am utterly and completely normal. So normal, in fact, that I am often called “basic,” by those around me. You may or may not be familiar with this relatively recent colloquial term, defined by Urban Dictionary as “someone devoid of defining characteristics that might make a person interesting, extraordinary, or just simply worth devoting time or attention to.” To put that in layperson’s terms, the Basic Girl is the one carrying a pumpkin spice latte in one hand and her iPhone in another, wearing the notoriously hideous UGG’s on her feet and a designer purse on her arm. She might sport sorority letters across her chest, just to conjure up some more stereotypes to add to your mental image. The Basic Girl is to everyone else just another blind sheep following the herd—her behavior, thoughts, and opinions can be predicted because she is just one among the masses. She probably listens to the peppy, mainstream music that plays on American Top 40, and her hobbies probably include shopping, manicures, and crafting. In fact, it’s probably better not to call her “she,” when it would be much more accurate to simply say “they.”

I could tell you how I am most definitely not one of those girls they label “basic,” those girls who “lack defining characteristics that would make them worth devoting time to.” I could explain how the world misunderstands me, confusing me for basic when in fact I have much greater worth than those girls.

Or I could tell you that I am in fact one of those girls. If you take an educated guess based on the beginning of this response, you probably already know that it is the latter. I, Katie Wilson, am pretty darn basic. I squeal at the glorious sight of the red Starbucks cups come Christmas time, I am the proud owner of 30 pairs of shoes, (UGG’s included) and I make crafts like there will be no tomorrow. I am in a sorority, and I will “throw what I know” (make my sorority’s symbol) in any location, at any time. I read Cosmopolitan against my mother’s wishes and I’m obsessed with Say Yes to the Dress and Cupcake Wars. I’m about as basic as they come.
And because I have been labeled this way by people I have never even met, I’ve actually started to believe it. To believe that I am not special.

But today, I am addressing those people who assume that because I have long blonde hair and I’m in a sorority I am a boring carbon copy of the last blonde haired sorority girl they saw.

Those people should know that I have chosen to pursue basic activities, not because I am unintelligent but because I truly do enjoy drinking flavored coffee, consuming popular culture, and making crafts for my sorority sisters. But most importantly, they should know that just because I am “basic,” does not mean that that’s all I am.
My mom used to tell me that I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. How cliché, right? But how true. At one glance, many people will write me off as brainless and generic. A future “trophy wife,” the one who will be at home cooking and cleaning all day with perfectly primped curls and a cute little apron, ignorant and uncaring about the world outside my circle of trophy wife friends. Those people are the same people who will stick the label of “basic” on me, and the same people who will objectify me because of that label. But those peoples’ opinions are of no importance to me. Because what they don’t realize is that behind all of the labels, stereotypes, and preconceived notions I am still a human. And because I am a human, I am inherently interesting. I do not resist the label of “basic,” because it allows me to prove that while I may appear that way on first glance, there is much more to me than meets the eye. I embrace the stereotypes and preconceived notions because they give me the opportunity to redefine the mold. So here are some other things those people should know about me, since “basic” will no longer do: While I drink my peppermint mocha I am translating Catullus for my Latin minor. While I curl my hair for a social event with my sorority I am listening to “The Best of Debussy,” one of my favorite composers. And while I am being labeled, I do my best not to label. My friends are from all walks of life, my interests are just as varied, and just for the record, I don’t wear makeup every day. In fact, I hate makeup.

So when I said that I was utterly normal, I wasn’t lying. But I also wasn’t telling the whole truth. In addition to my “basic tendencies,” I am a strong, confident, and passionate young woman with hopes of entering the marketing industry and eventually earning a graduate degree. I am a driven, ambitious student with so many academic interests that it has taken me years to decide what type of career to pursue. I love to camp, hike, run, and explore the outdoors in any way that I can. I pride myself on my commitment to my Christian faith, and I have attended church every Sunday since I was born. Finally, I am proud of who I am, I am proud of what I’ve accomplished, and I am proud of the friends I have chosen for myself.

So to all the people out there who think they’re not “interesting enough,” not “unique enough,” or not “special enough,” you’re wrong. Just because people label you a sheep doesn’t mean you don’t have an identity.

I think it’s time for all of us to stop shoving each other into little boxes, and time to start seeing each person as just that-a person. Let’s make the fun-fact game more than just an ice-breaker.