If you asked me to describe my personality in my own words, I would draw a few blanks. But, more simply, if you asked me for my MBTI, I can immediately tell you that I’m an INFJ. Many of the traits attributed to an INFJ give a shockingly accurate description of the ways I act and what I hope to achieve. That feeling of connecting with an, albeit made-up, categorization is comfortable to be with. It’s not just MBTI, or just me; at some point in our lives, we’ve taken a moment to do one of those fun quizzes. What kind of animal matches your personality? What is your secret bad habit? All of these can be claimed to be found through a few simple questions about you— and sometimes, they’re right. There is a power in claiming your identity, and also in relinquishing it. A deep overanalysis exists in putting ourselves into boxes: suddenly, we’re only compatible with this person, or having ambition will be our downfall, and before getting to know each other, we shut it down. Since I’m an introvert, I will continue to proceed with my life as such; not starting social interaction or seeking it out, only nodding along. That is what you will get to know about me.
When a friend admits that they’re also afraid of the dark, we feel seen. When someone writes that they also call their mom every night, we understand. That kinship is fed to us through our favorite MBTI, Enneagram, and other personality tests. Knowing that other people also dislike loud spaces or prefer to recharge in the quiet of their room makes us feel less alone. Such quizzes aren’t inherently harmful; it is fun to discover that psychology can, in fact, predict the traits we have based on our multiple-choice answers. MBTI also attempts to define our relationships. It often describes what type of people we interact with, as well as what attracts us to them. A 1979 theory, the Social Identity Theory, attempts to explain what labels give to us and what we humans do with them. The authors describe that being in a social-identity group gives us belonging, self-worth, and purpose. Being a part of CAMD clubs at Andover, or even the label of an Andover Student, is a social identity. What personality quizzes lean into is our personal identity, which, unlike the former, is meant to be unique to us and our interpersonal relationships. These identities keep us distinct while also remaining in tandem with how we exist to the wider world. So, when we start putting our personalities, our personal identities, in boxes, are we limiting them?
What such “personality types” also do is define who we are. As we continue to accept validation from these labels, we begin to make dangerous assumptions. Rather than being someone who feels anxious, you are an anxious person. Instead of having a bad habit of stubbornness, you are always stubborn, and that will never change. Believing that our personal identity can never evolve, even though our social-identity groups wax and wane, is prone to negativity. People begin to justify their bad habits and become resistant to change. The digital world only further opens these doors and lets us pore over Reddit threads that sympathize with recluse into cyclical habits. More often than not, we get lost in the noise of being type A, Enneagram type 6, and a whole host of other things.
There are too many people — and too much to discover in our Andover world. In this bubble, personality indicators and labels aren’t a helper, but a barrier. They try to dictate how our relationships should go, what our goals should be, and what will be our downfall. Those ideas can’t be decided by a quiz; they can only be found through self-discovery and trial and error. Following a process, instead of taking a shortcut like a personality test, is what develops us as people. Why define ourselves as an optimist or a cynic? When you meet someone for the first time, what do you share with them? Maybe not your MBTI, but definitely your name.
