You’re a control freak. When your boyfriend wants to just wing it on your vacation, it’s really stressful. You get your hair done every 6 weeks like clockwork. You never miss a yoga class.
You live in an apartment with exposed brick and succulents. You wear makeup every day. You dye your hair a different color every season. Your favorite drink is a lychee martini.
You’re impatient. Your planner is filled out months ahead of time, with every hour of the day scheduled. You own at least three monogrammed items.
You had a blog, like, before it was cool. You make your friends wait to eat until you take a picture of your latest brunch. You’re in at least seven different group texts.
You have generalized anxiety disorder. You wish self-driving cars would become a thing, like, now. You’re still dating your high school sweetheart. When you like a shirt, you buy it in three different colors.
You throw way too many parties. You’re really proud of knowing musicians before they become ~mainstream~. On your birthday, you had golden balloons spelling out your new age.
You don’t really care what you look like. You’re down to go on a road trip on a moment’s notice. All of your clothes are from secondhand stores.
You use emojis in every text you send. You don’t understand dating as a concept. You eat the same thing for breakfast every day.
You are always impeccably dressed. You got into med school on your first try. You broke up with your boyfriend for a sensible reason and there are no hard feelings.
You have some vague major like international affairs. You always know what’s happening before your friends do. You’re already bored of this week’s meme.
You didn’t think you’d be a SoulCycle person, but you totally are. You go to protests weekly. You give thoughtful presents.
Your boyfriend is your best friend and you’re not even ashamed of it. You were the first person to have kids out of your friend group. You’re involved in a mid-level-marketing “opportunity”.
You’re going to have fifteen bridesmaids when you get married. You’re inordinately proud of where you went to college. You’re tan year-round.
You go to a music festival every summer and tell everyone you know that it’s literally the best place on earth. You donate to a group dedicated to saving some obscure animal from extinction. You hope no one from your real life follows your blog.
You went to art school but dropped out halfway through. You have an awful memory. You regularly cut your own hair with scissors meant for paper.
Your parents still pay your rent. You went to a state school. You’re still making up and breaking up with your college boyfriend, five years later.
You were a feminist before Beyonce was. You un-ironically quote Ernest Hemingway.