Hi, I’m Sarah and I have three earlobes.
I’ve spoken that strange phrase countless times in my life during icebreaker activities and “get to know you” games where we are asked to share something unique about ourselves.
On my left ear lie two flaps of skin where there should be one. It resembles the bottom of an apple, a peanut shell and sometimes, a baby’s bottom. But above all, it resembles nothing anyone has seen before.
Although this double earlobe serves absolutely no function, I love my two-pronged earlobe. For me, my ear embodies what we are always taught to strive for—uniqueness. In elementary school, our teachers preached the importance of individuality by filling our minds with clichés like “be a Fruit Loop in a world of Cheerios” or “dare to be different.” While people often brush off these phrases as silly or childish, I’ve always tried to embrace them.
But after years of flaunting this trait of mine, it one day became as common as if I had dimples, freckles or a gap between my two front teeth. It occurred in the fifth grade as I was out to dinner with my family and friends. I peered across the table and to my dismay, noticed that my brother’s friend had the same earlobe as me.
I feigned some enthusiasm as we discussed this newfound similarity, but in reality, I was quite upset. I realized I wasn’t the only girl in the world to possess this harmless birth defect. I wasn’t even the only person in St. Louis Park. For the first time in my life, I felt as  ordinary as one of those pathetic Cheerios.
The years passed, and I never met another double earlobe. But this encounter made me realize that I still possessed great individuality, because who we are should not be determined by how we look, dress or how our ear is shaped. Although it’s important to let your physical appearance reflect who you are as an individual, that shouldn’t be your sole mode of expression.

Though it may go unnoticed, the most important form of individuality lies within oneself.
Perhaps this uniqueness is sometimes hidden, but that isn’t to say it’s nonexistent. Although not everyone possesses a visible quirk like mine, we can learn to express our individuality in different manners.  Uniqueness can also be defined by how we speak, what we write, our ideals and many other values.
I’m still a Fruit Loop in a bowl of Cheerios, but even if I were a Cheerio, I would remain Sarah Brandt.