(I don't actually think Bruce Banner is a Slytherin...but he is green. So.)

The other day I was talking to an HPFTer who was considering making a blog post about their Sorting according to Sorting Hat Chats (SHC); they had some Slytherin results and mentioned that they thought their discussion of their character traits was just going to make them sound unlikeable. This got me thinking, especially since I later heard another HPFTer make a similar comment about their own results and post.

I confess that when it comes to admitting my own Slytherin qualities, it’s difficult for me to admit to them frankly to others. It’s not because I think they are inherently bad (I don’t, and they’re not). But I am aware that certain of those qualities are -- or are supposed to be -- unlikeable, at least according to social norms. Even if you personally (whoever you are, reading this) don’t find certain traits unlikeable or don’t judge them, I think it’s a pretty unavoidable reality that convention says these are Things You’re Not Supposed to Do. (I think this is especially true for women, but that’s an entirely different post, I feel. Also, by the way, if you read on, you’ll see that I can sometimes use my Slytherin qualities in a way that is arguably un-feminist, which adds a whole other layer to this.)

Other Houses have their flaws, certainly. But rarely if ever does someone have to be concerned that they’ll be automatically judged or disliked for saying, I’m inflexible, or, I’m a peacekeeper to a fault, or, I’m stubborn, or, I’m reckless, or, I can’t think on my feet and when the plan falls apart I freeze. Sure, you may not respect someone who says, I have a need to be liked by everyone and keep the peace, but are you repulsed when you hear it? Not nearly in the same way someone is judged, or expects to be disliked, when they admit that, Yes, I get by with my incredible ability to be something less than genuine (whatever that word even means) -- or, Yes, I do, in fact, think my inner circle and I are more important than (insert anything any other House is more concerned about).

Because no matter how you package these kinds of things -- no matter how pretty the bow -- no matter what you call it (e.g. “code-switching”), when it comes down to it, people who don’t engage in tactics like code-switching are just going to hear that you’re a Lying Liar Who Lies. People are going to hear that you’re selfish. There’s a visceral reaction that takes place, that simply does not take place when someone says, I wear my heart on my sleeve, or, I tend not to see the forest for the trees.

There’s a lot of concern in our society with being “genuine.” Being your “true self.” I spend quite a lot of time wondering who the hell my “real self” is, or whether such a thing even exists. (Do you even have a personality outside of whatever you project that is reflected back to you by another person’s reactions? If a tree falls in the woods and nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound? Am I a good person or an asshole if nobody is around to experience me and make that call? What the hell is an internal compass and how do you literally even function as a Gryffindor?)  

If I had a damn quarter for every time I read a Facebook rant about Fake people! or Just be real with me! We are obsessed with being “real.” Well, a Slytherin Secondary is all about how they present themselves, and if they have to adapt and change that presentation in order to achieve something, that’s what they’re going to do. But how do you honestly tell people that’s your modus operandi without admitting you’re a Lying Liar Who Lies?

You may be reading this and thinking, Well, I don’t care what people think of me. Alrighty then. Sometimes I wish I could be more like you. Plenty of us do care, and not just because we’re snuggly people who love to be loved. Frankly, if you’ve got any Slytherin in you at all, I think you do care, at least a bit. You do care how you’re perceived, because that’s how you get ahead. Maybe you don’t care what Melanie thinks of you, or what that guy on the street thinks of you, or what that dumbass in your office thinks of you. But I think you do care what someone thinks of you when it’s a person who has the ability to make or break your career. I think you do care about the general perception people have of you, because when people like you, they’re more likely to do things for you or give you things. Or maybe you’re a little bit like me, and you just like being liked, because that’s one of your character flaws, too.

So let me now get away from this abstract discussion and tell you the ways in which I am “Selfish” (performing Slytherin Primary) and “A Lying Liar Who Lies” (performing Slytherin Secondary).

I’m a Ravenclaw Primary, but I perform sometimes as Slytherin Primary

There’s really no way I could ever categorize myself as a true Slytherin Primary. I am ambitious, yes, but I think it’s over-simplifying things to categorize anybody as a Slytherin just because they have goals and avidly pursue them. There is a large part of me that craves admiration and respect, and I have historically experienced a lot of heartburn whenever I have not been the best at something -- but my ambition also often finds itself at odds with my equally fervent desire to just Be Left the Hell Alone™. Recently at work, I went to my boss and asked to be moved to a less coveted assignment because the process of trying to be the best and be everything was killing me.

In general, I know beyond a doubt that I am simply too attached to external values systems to be anything other than a Ravenclaw Primary. But if I’m being honest, there are things about the Slytherin self-prioritization that ring true with me, which I’ll share with you here. And maybe you think I’m a sack of shit, maybe you don’t. But I have a blog now, a platform from which to pontificate, and I’m rarely known to resist that.

A Slytherin does not generally feel guilty for valuing themselves, for taking time for their own mental or physical health, or for sacrificing other things for the safety and happiness of the people they love. They might feel vulnerable, or judged, or guilty for not feeling guilty, especially if they live in the kind of family or culture where humility and self sacrifice are seen as the greatest goods– but without watching eyes and the words of peers and authority figures bouncing around their skulls, a Slytherin would feel comfortable and even validated in the idea that they have both a right and duty to take care of their own selves before anything or anyone else. (From SHC)

So, look. My feelings on what I (or anybody) owe to another person, are complicated. I feel, much like a Hufflepuff, that all people deserve kindness. I believe, in line with my Ravenclaw nature, that at a minimum we have to abide by some set of rules to keep us from descending into utter chaos and ruin (don’t assault people; don’t steal; basically, don’t infringe on someone else’s ability to live their own life).

But when I sit down and think about it rationally? There’s a significant part of me that believes we as human beings don’t owe a thing to each other, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I am, actually, a religious person (not necessarily a very good one), but putting aside whatever I believe is my moral imperative based on that belief system, when I think about people as people? We’re all just clumps of cells on this earth, and none of us asked to be here. I didn’t ask to be brought into the world, and I certainly wasn’t consulted about it, so the idea that the occasion of my birth (or anyone’s) came pre-loaded with any kind of responsibility or obligation towards other people is… mind-boggling to me from a rational perspective.

I believe helping other people is a good thing and an honorable thing, there’s no doubt about that. I do a fair bit of it; I also don’t do enough of it. But where my above-referenced thought process gets kicked into high gear is when I hear or see people saying things like, “If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem” -- or when they see someone online expressing sympathy or condolences for a person or situation and the response is, “If you really want to help, then do x because words are meaningless” -- or generally whenever someone criticizes anybody for not doing more. Things like that grate on me; I often find them pompous and moralistic.

(For the record, I personally care about people a lot. A lot a lot. I genuinely hate seeing people sad, hurt, or suffering. I just experience cynicism over the kinds of social mandates discussed above.)

Personally, I don’t know how often in practice I actually do prioritize myself or my inner circle above other values. I do know that one thing I do that tends to scandalize people is to say I don’t want kids. I hesitate to include this in my analysis because -- other people’s comments notwithstanding -- I don’t believe it can logically be construed as selfish. People like to say it is, because apparently I am prioritizing myself over my hypothetical future children -- but I don’t think hypothetical people have needs or rights, so logically I can’t be prioritizing anything over those. So I hate to buy into that construct. But I’ll include it here anyway, because it is an example of me prioritizing myself over what society and culture expect of me.

A lot of people are cool with my decision, or simply apathetic. Many are confused, which I can handle well enough. But I tell you, some people react to this idea like I just tossed their own children off a bridge. And I realized that this is because, to some people, my personal decision is literally offensive. My decision to have a life devoted to myself and my husband, without the day-to-day difficulties involved in raising children, is actually interpreted by some people as a judgment of their own decisions (as well as me being a selfish cow). Never was this more clear to me than one day I saw my sister-in-law post a rant on Facebook about how some other woman had made a comment about not wanting kids because it would not be worth it for her, and my SIL felt very strongly that this was an attack on the value of her own children.

I could pretend my decision is noble at its core -- that I doubt my ability to be the best parent possible so I’ve decided not to take the risk, or that I feel the world is so terrible that I don’t want to subject children to it -- but while these may be thoughts that have entered into my mind, at the end of the day I like being able to sleep until 10 AM (or later) on weekends. I like being able to do literally whatever I want with my time. So while I don’t think this is a great example of a Slytherin primary decision, it’s an example of me making a choice that’s 100% geared towards my husband and me doing whatever we want, whenever we want, and which is also something that a lot of people find very unlikeable. (For the record, kids are cute, and my niblings are the cutest.)

I’m a Burned Hufflepuff Secondary veering into Ravenclaw Secondary territory, but I also perform as a Slytherin Secondary

According to SHC, the hallmark of a Slytherin Secondary is adaptability. This is where this idea of truth and genuineness comes in.

This maneuverability adds to the Slytherin reputation for manipulation, cunning, and deceit– but from the Slytherin’s perspective, those opportunities were there for other people to see, too, and taking advantage of them is neither dishonest nor tricky, but resourceful. (From SHC)

Slytherins change as needed to fit the environment or situation. SHC describes them as being able to quickly adapt to whatever a situation throws at them. This is true for me professionally, as my job requires me to think quickly on my feet, but this really might come down more to my Ravenclaw nature, as I possess the tools and knowledge necessary to react quickly in the courtroom. I don’t adapt quickly and easily in a social setting. I’m not charismatic; I’m shy and awkward and I fail at any kind of small talk or networking. But what I do, which is a Slytherin trait, is I code-switch, and I’ve been doing it for decades. I have different “faces” for different people and situations. It’s a way of ingratiating myself with different people, and I don’t even do it with a nefarious purpose. It was how I was able to get along with different groups in high school who didn’t interact with one another.

A friend fond of debating me once asked me why I felt the need to wear the mask; why I couldn’t just be myself. I mean, see my musings above on what “being yourself” really means -- but aside from that... I do it because it makes life easier? And I know this agitates people. People don’t like the idea that they don’t know the real you. Frankly, the real me is some amalgamation of all my masks. I have a dark sense of humor that would really offend a lot of people, and I also love terrible, fluffy rom coms. Both of those things are genuinely me. I don’t show the dark side to everyone; it’s just not politic to do so. I don’t show the fluffy side when I’m trying to command respect.

Being honest, even blunt, is a valued trait, but I believe bluntness has its limits. You can say you’re a blunt person, but do you tell your boss that you think he’s an asshole? I mean, do you, really? I’d wager not. Because your boss has power over you. It’s easy to be blunt with people who can’t affect your life if they take offense. I can’t very well tell a terrible judge that I think they’re a moron. Would put a damper on my career. I’m excellent at responding to utterly absurd questions or comments from the bench in an intelligent, diplomatic manner. Same with opposing counsel. Consequently, I have a great professional reputation.

I don’t just do this with people in positions of power over me. I do it with everyone. And I have never subscribed to the idea that people should be going around being honest about people they don’t like, for no other reason than the sake of honesty itself. I hear this kind of thing a lot: If you don’t like me, tell me to my face. I certainly don’t think people should be spreading rumors about one another, trying to harm other people’s lives and relationships, etc.; I don’t condone that at all. But I also don’t see the problem with passively, quietly disliking someone. It literally does no harm to anyone, to decide to keep your mouth shut about not liking someone. Because (my desire not to hurt feelings aside, which is also a very real concern of mine) I don’t see the point in burning a bridge unless there’s an enemy horde about to cross it. It just doesn’t make sense to me. Why would you burn a bridge?? You might need it later??

I was in court one day and said hello to an opposing attorney on a case. I didn’t know him well, had maybe met him once before. He made a comment that I looked great and asked whether I’d been working out and what my routine was (I’m not making this up, and I’m not doing this to brag). Look, a part of me could have said, “Counsel, that’s not appropriate.” And I’m sure that’s the “correct” response from a feminist perspective. Nobody needs to be commenting on my appearance in my professional life. I thought he was a tool. But I didn’t tell him off, not even close. I also -- to be clear -- did not bat my eyelashes and simper and thank him profusely. But I did respond with detached grace and politeness (with a little implied "bless your heart" attitude) and converse with him about my gym routine for a moment. I gave him just enough of a response to think we were cool. Because you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, and at the end of the day my case is what’s important, and it makes my job easier when my opponent feels obliged to me.

But, see, things like this are hard to admit. Telling people, “I operate by being less than truthful sometimes” can feel like confessing to murder. I mean, at least justifiable homicide is a thing. Justifiable lying? Not a thing, in many people’s minds, no matter how well intentioned ("No, honey, you don’t look like you’ve gained weight").

The floor is now open for your judgment. I’m gonna go hide with the sneks for a bit, if they'll have me.