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I don’t know about you, but in the last six months, my algorithm has become bombarded with the incessant need to diagnose and categorise ourselves.
Are you Type A or Type B? Anxious or avoidant? Introvert or extrovert… or even ambivert? Are you high-functioning or emotionally intelligent? Or burnt out but also resilient? The list goes on…
And don’t get me wrong, I have become privy to such categorisations. But somewhere in between social media, algorithms and corporate culture, we’ve begun categorising not just how we work, but who we are.
For the uninitiated or unassuming, first and foremost, Type A personalities are the ambitious ones. Known to be high achieving, competitive, harnessing a sense of urgency and perhaps impatient. Type B, according to the experts on my TikTok FYP, is the more laid-back counterpart. Flexible and less competitive, shall we say.
Other ways to decode yourself also include the famous MyersBriggs Type Indicator, which identifies 16 personality types from a series of four pairs: Extraversion (E) or Introversion (I); Sensing (S) or Intuition (N); Thinking (T) or Feeling (F); Judging (J) or Perceiving (P).
You get the gist.
And honestly, I understand the appeal. In an age shaped by uncertainty – personal, political, global – and society moving at the speed of light, labels give us clarity. In a way, they always have. They help us make sense of certain reactions to situations, the way we cope. A framework that helps us to compartmentalise the way we see things.
I’ve done it too. Over the past couple of years, especially, trying to place myself into something tidy. Something named. Chasing titles. Chasing certainty. Chasing reassurance.
But when everything about who we are is anticipated and neatly packaged up, where does the serendipity go? Where does the unexpected version of ourselves have room to arrive?
Because luck, after all, doesn’t follow a personality type. You can’t neatly tick it off a to-do list. It arrives instinctually, uninterrupted and often in ways we would never expect.
It’s something our cover star of the 16th issue of GRAZIA Middle East, Tara Emad, has come to know all too well as of late. Our Zoom call a couple of months back was a refreshing one. Her aura carried a calm nature – unforced and unperformed (ironic, given her 20-plus-year career in front of the camera). But two decades on, she revealed to me she’s truly learned the art of pace.
“I guess I’ve always proven that no matter how much I plan, and how much I plan it well, God has a different plan,” she explained. No trace of frustration, just humble acceptance.
I suppose this sentiment has been reflected in the incredible women who surround me. They’ve taken leaps in their lives that I’m in awe of. One’s chasing her dream of publishing her raw and real memoir. Another is shaping the story of one of the biggest finance conglomerates in the Middle East. Another is diving headfirst into building a new chapter for herself, unashamedly. But from all of the above, it’s clear it’s about learning to face the unknown – no titles, no labels, no boxes – head on.
This is perhaps what Lady Luck asks us to all do – loosen the grip just a little, especially as we close out 2025. Let’s leave space for wonder, deviation and the parts of ourselves that don’t always behave.
Of course, this issue celebrates fate and fortune, but also the freedom of not knowing exactly who we’re supposed to be next, or what to expect.
After all, a little serendipity never hurt anyone.
ORDER YOUR COPY OF THE 16TH EDITION OF GRAZIA MIDDLE EAST HERE.
