29/07/2026
I asked ChatGPT to describe me in 15 completely different ways. Somehow, it told me the same thing every time.
As a colour.
A movie.
A supernatural creature.
A feeling.
A food.
A song.
An element.
A season.
A scent.
A biome.
An object.
Weather.
A flower.
A mineral.
A country.
And somehow, it told me the same thing every single time.
Petrol blue.
Erin Brockovich.
A phoenix.
Anticipation.
Salted dark chocolate with chilli.
Dog Days Are Over.
The ocean.
Spring.
Petrichor.
Coastal heathland.
A Swiss Army knife.
A thunderstorm.
A banksia.
Labradorite.
Scotland.
Different metaphors.
Same woman.
Deep. Intense. Adaptable. Wild. Capable. Defiant. Soft underneath the armour.
Someone who sees what could be, who creates movement wherever she goes, and who has spent a lot of her life being extraordinarily useful to other people.
But there was another theme I wasn’t expecting.
Almost every answer came back to the same lesson:
Just because I can carry something doesn’t mean it’s mine to carry.
And f**k.
Apparently I asked ChatGPT for a cute little personality exercise and got called out by 15 different metaphors instead. 😂
