Okay, I confess. I am a typical white girl.

I have remained faithful to the same pair of dark brown Ugg boots since the sixth grade. My yoga pants are folded neatly inside the drawer of my dresser, ready for wear. If I had the time (and the money), I’d probably spend most of my days sipping a white chocolate mocha at Starbucks.

I’ll admit I’m a sucker for a good John Green romance novel. On the weekends, I often find myself holed up in my room watching reruns of Gilmore Girls or catching up on the latest Pretty Little Liars episode. And although I detest most of the vapid songs on 106.1 Kiss FM, I don’t change the station when Katy Perry’s “Dark Horse” blares through the speakers.

It’s possible that these qualities do in fact meet the criteria of a mainstream Caucasian female. You’ve seen the posts on Twitter and heard jokes about how white girls only care about their clothing and Starbucks. From the few details about myself that I’ve just laid out, I am the definition of typical.

But then again, I take more pride in my bookshelf than I do my wardrobe. I didn’t read Seventeen when I was 15, nor have I found the new Endless Love trailer even remotely entertaining. My Instagram “Concert Pictures to Selfie Ratio” is about eight to one, and I’d rather spend my Friday night listening to live music at a local venue than at the mall. Before you start screaming “hipster wannabe,” let me just note that I wear contacts instead of glasses, and I wouldn’t say I pride myself in being different.

In fact, I honestly believe that most girls are just like me – unique. It’s probably true that some may have a higher selfie count on Instagram or actually look forward to cheesy romance movies. But can anybody really be pinned down to this one stereotype? White girls can be intellectual and still order a non-fat skinny vanilla latte every now and then or enjoy watching The Bachelor. They can care about others and enjoy reading profound novels and still find pleasure in “fan-girling” over the upcoming The Fault in Our Stars movie. We are all more complex than any stereotype.

Yet the shallow persona that society has labeled as the common white girl continues to plague seemingly every joke and social media network, subtly encouraging many to conform to a, well, non-conformist way of life. In an effort to escape the degrading “typical white girl” label, many shuffle to reject all things common or “basic.” When surrounded every day by people who are our age and are therefore likely to enjoy the same things we do, it’s easy to feel an urge to be different. To strive to wear our uniqueness like a badge of honor on our chest each day. To tell the world, “Hey, I’m not cliche. I am the exception to every stereotypical tweet and joke.” It becomes cool to be atypical. But really, we all are unique – typically atypical, if you will.

Calling out white girls only makes them feel ashamed for liking certain activities. But liking Starbucks or a particular pair of boots doesn’t define a person. People are more than their appearance, more than the sum of their individual tastes.

High school is supposed to be the place where we figure out our identity in a four-year span. As we struggle to find where we fit in, what we like, who we want to be associated with, it’s easy to fear being even remotely connected to something that isn’t “cool.”

But appearance is only skin-deep. A selfie is only screen-deep. And coffee is only a cup-deep. I like Starbucks. I like infinity scarves. I like Katy Perry (sometimes). But I am not a typical white girl. Nobody is.