This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Wisconsin chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.
A revolution that could use some more chaos
I’ll never forget the night before I moved out of my freshman dorm—just me, a mountain of clothes and the realization that I had completely underestimated how much stuff I owned. The entire building was silent, and I was one of the few stragglers left who still had finals on the last possible day. As the clock approached 1 a.m., sweating and frantic, I shoveled my entire life’s worth of belongings from plastic bins into big blue IKEA bags, preparing to fly everything home in just six hours. My tendency to pack at the last minute had finally caught up with me, and the task at hand felt completely insurmountable. I called my mom, wondering if, even at my most productive speed, it was possible to be packed and ready to leave by 7 a.m. Against all odds, I made it out of the dorm on time. My Type B tendency to procrastinate had almost gotten me in trouble.
My friends and I often debate whether our habits make us more Type A or Type B. I usually exhibit Type B behaviors — underestimating how long it takes to get ready, running late, forgetting to put the car keys in the designated spot, or rushing through my morning routine. I suppose these habits make me Type B, but the label gives me a bit of discomfort. After all, I also update my Google Calendar, keep my room clean, make my bed every morning and like to believe I have serious ambitions.
Society tends to praise a certain kind of woman—the go-getter, the planner, the A-game girl. These traits make up the classic Type A personality, but I’m beginning to think the Type B ones matter just as much. Being labeled “Type B” can feel like it discredits the drive and determination I know I possess, as if being calm or flexible means being less ambitious. But feminism, after all, shouldn’t only be about being constantly productive or goal-oriented. It should also make space for creativity, rest and growth along the way.
Recently, my friends and I have been figuring out where to live next year. My busy schedule of classes and extracurriculars made it hard to find time, but I decided to take the lead on the project. I booked tours, created spreadsheets, spent hours on hold and compared locations and prices. I was proactive, and by the end of the week, we had a signed lease. It was satisfying—but also exhausting. I felt like I was chasing my friends all week about signing applications and talking to their parents. The time it took to coordinate everything pulled me away from other commitments, leaving me overwhelmed and, at times, alone in the process. Would a true Type A person feel this burnt out?
Being the impromptu “Type A” friend for the week was rewarding but draining. It made me wonder if this is what the “adult world” will feel like. Will I need to stay relentlessly on top of everything to achieve my goals, or is it possible to prioritize both ambition and spontaneity? Can I be driven without always having a plan? I’m beginning to believe there’s a middle ground where Type A and Type B can coexist—where creativity and flexibility complement ambition and discipline. I don’t always have things perfectly mapped out, but committing to working hard and learning along the way matters just as much.
I’ll admit I can be chaotic and unorganized at times, but the Type B side of me also brings creativity, adaptability and collaboration. What matters is that I moved out of the dorm on time and got a lease signed in a week. I didn’t do everything perfectly, but I accomplished what I set out to do and learned from both situations. Feminism isn’t about proving women are only capable when they’re perfect—it’s about showing that imperfection can shine just as brightly. It should allow for rest, occasional procrastination, learning and productivity. Chaos and ambition can coexist, and in many ways, they make each other stronger.