I promised an in-depth post about how I determined my type and secondary and today seems like a good day to do it. Keep in mind that I am biracial, so certain facial characteristics are ethnic features, not "type" features, and the descriptors and nearly all examples used in Dressing Your Truth assume caucasian by default. Just like pretty much everything in America, and the beauty standards in general, but that's a different rant for a different day.
I am going to post photos of me with and without make-up.
This first photo on the left is me without make-up. Let's critique!
I'm going to be blunt about it. I recognized the Type 4 energy and movement in me, and so does Carol Tuttle and her staff. I highly doubt we're all wrong. This is what she does for a living. This is her bread and butter. She created the system in the first place. Arguing with me about my type is just as useless as arguing with Carol about it (though I see people doing that too, only to later on, down the road, coming full circle and realizing Carol was right the whole time). I was featured on Carol's Facebook page as one of their Type 4 "before and afters" and Carol also confirmed my type in person when I met her last year at an event (and no, I didn't ask, as I already knew. She inadvertently told me anyway by stating to me that something I did was "something you Type 4s tend to do").
If I sound defensive, it's because for some reason, without my EVER asking, people like to infer that I am not really a Type 4. NO. Just no. Even when I was trying to determine my type, I didn't ask people. No random stranger online is qualified to tell me a damn thing about myself.
On to my features!
I know my face doesn't look perfectly symmetrical, but that's due to an injury I sustained, to my face, when I was in my early twenties. It required stitches, and when the laceration healed, it pulled that one eye downward a little so my eyes are no longer identical, but you can see a general symmetry in my features (even though I see every little thing that's "off", most people do not). But here is a photo from before my accident and you can see how perfectly symmetrical I was.
My secondary is obvious. Super obvious. So obvious, in fact, that I initially worried that even though I knew and felt that I was T4 on the inside, I thought I was too "adorable" and "cute" on the outside and that I must be living in my secondary 4, and that I was actually T1. I smile big and laugh boldly. I wear my joy on the outside. When I am *genuinely happy*, you DO see the smile in my eyes. (Smiling for photos, on command, you get a very Type 4 smile. I can not fake a smile). The photo on the left is from my early 20s, and the photo on the right is from a couple weeks ago. Not very different. This is how I move through life: boldly happy.
Here's a photo of my freckles... I NEVER attempt to cover up my freckles with make-up (in fact, that's the main reason I don't wear foundation), but for some reason, they get completely washed out in photos. Every now and then, my freckles are out in full force. I can thank my caucasian father's Celtic roots for those! You can see why I thought I was too cutesy to be a real Type 4. Very few of us have freckles. I'm just lucky like that.
I am biracial, but I tend to identify more with my Asian half because my white father did not raise me at all, it was just my Korean mother so I was raised with Korean food, culture, expectations, language... There is a disconnect in that so many people see me as a white person, but in the mirror, I see a Half-Asian person. I see that I am clearly of Asian descent. Must be those darn freckles! THANKS DAD.
Anyway, being Type 4, I really wanted to make sure I was dressing my truth CORRECTLY, so I refused to pay for the course until I knew my type beyond a doubt. I decided to join an unofficial Type 1 Facebook group (as there were no unofficial Type 4 Facebook groups... gee, wonder why lol). They are all a lot of fun and the group is very active and social... but it was exhausting to me. I didn't identify with their struggles (losing car keys AGAIN, not doing chores or being able to keep the house clean, being late, forgetting appointments, etc). I did find that I could share in some of their joys (like doing something entirely new and different, and spontaneity) but my version is to do those things rarely and in a much more restrained way. And even physically, you could line us all up, and I would stick out like a sore Type 4 thumb. I may be cute, but I am not Type 1 cute.
And in regard to cute... I think the reason I'm called cute more than anything else is because I am very petite. I'm a pocket-sized, fits easily in the overhead compartment, travel-sized human. Of course everyone will describe that as cute. Also, to the uninitiated eye (as in, someone who hasn't been around Asians a lot), Asians tend to look more identical and we are all viewed as being younger and cuter by default. In a broad, general way, that is often how Americans see us. Please note that I am not casting judgment on this and I don't think someone is automatically racist if they have a genuinely difficult time telling Asians apart. It's hard if you didn't grow up around a diverse group.
When someone calls me cute, that person is never Asian. To Asians, I am striking. I am beautiful. I am even weird-looking. I am a lot of things, but I am never cutesy and infantile-looking to them. I'm not even short. So once I put my features in the proper cultural context instead of the white American one, I realized that I am not actually considered super cute, or even super young-looking to my own group of people. No one at Uwajimaya even bothers to card me. I clearly look my age to them and am treated that way. Americans, especially white Americans, can not shut up about how small and cute and young I look though, and that's not about me, that's just about my size and ethnicity and how my facial features played out. I got carded for a rated R movie. Seriously. I am literally twice that age. (Also, I need to not wear hoodies to the theater because it apparently takes nearly 20 years off my age, in a bad way).
Before I finally end this entirely too long blog post, let's talk about the other things besides facial features that prove I'm Type 4. I did focus a lot on facial profiling because that is single-handedly the most accurate and honest way to profile yourself according to Carol. You can't fake your way out of that one. It's not a personality test.
There are some tell-tale signs in me that I am Type 4, and one of the big ones is that I am a fiercely logical person. Things need to make logical sense, be evidence-based, peer-reviewed, and rational. I don't "believe" things because "I feel it's right in my heart". That's some subjective bullshit right there. I will follow societal norms up to a certain point, but I am not defined by them. I don't blindly follow anything. Tradition for the sake of tradition doesn't fly with me. "But it's always been done that way" is not a good reason for continuing to do something that is outright stupid or harmful to others or just not something I am interested in doing. That's not how I operate. I do not blindly follow ideologies. I do not blindly follow custom. I pick and choose what makes sense to follow (or that I have no opinion about and will default to the cultural norm) and if something doesn't make sense, it gets thrown out the window and I will do what DOES make sense.
Also, I work in STEM. I am a software engineer working in artificial intelligence and machine learning. Math is a language I wish more people were fluent in. I took physics in college for FUN. In a field where there are often black-and-white correct or incorrect answers, I excel. I can see flaws in existing systems and improve them. I can also see gaps in the market and offer up ideas on how to take advantage of that gap and fill a need. I can also come up with creative solutions to problems too (thanks S1, for your vision). I see the bigger picture, I can work toward long-term goals, and I am logical to an extreme that often gets judged as cold, detached, and unfeeling. But I don't let others' negative views of how I process things affect me. Not caring about the opinions of most people is also very Type 4 of me. I am self-assured in a world that doesn't understand why a woman would ever be self-assured. I'm supposed to be emotional and needy and need approval right? *barf*
Is sarcasm a Type 4 thing? I'd like to think so.
Another thing I remember, that also helped me to recognize that I am definitely Type 4 and not Type 1, was a vacation gone awry. I had my passport expedited and everything for this trip, which was a simple weekend getaway to Victoria, B.C. via ferry. We barely made it in time to the ferry (my Type 3 husband did not plan our route to allow for walk time, whoops), and when we got there, we were told that the ferry was down for maintenance and we could either change our trip dates, or get a refund.
I responded to this disappointment in the most Type 4, "my train just got derailed" way possible: I went home and went to bed and basically rage-quit the day. That one thing went wrong, and I was done. The day was ruined and beyond salvageable, so I literally went back to bed, very upset.
Also, I can't multitask to save my life. I can't listen to music and also drive. I hate when people try to talk to me if I am doing ANYTHING else at all, because they get offended that they need to repeat themselves. It's not that I'm being rude, I just simply can't listen to you speak and also focus on the one thing I'm trying to do. I have the ability to focus on something and do that for hours and hours and hours, to the point where I forget to eat or pee. That's right, sometimes I forget to even get up to pee.
The wheels in our heads are constantly turning behind our still, quiet demeanors.
And of course, Resting Bitch Face. Apparently I look like I would kill a man just to watch him die, when I'm not smiling. It's my default face setting, and everyone assumes I'm pissed off or having the worst day of my life. Sometimes I am, sometimes I'm just buying groceries. But there's no way to tell the difference between the two. Wow, no wonder people find us intimidating. We might be happy to see you, we might be wishing you'd spontaneously burst into flames...
I'll be posting a much shorter blog post tomorrow, so I hope you aren't scared off by this 8-volume-novel of my Type 4-ness. This is not normal for me. I am much lazier than this normally.
See you tomorrow!