Let me set the scene.
It’s 2019. It’s a Sunday. I’m sitting cross-legged on my couch in a oversized hoodie, a half-eaten bowl of cereal going soggy on the coffee table, and I am (with my entire chest) doing the Which Hogwarts House Are You In Based On Your Breakfast Choices quiz for the third time. Not because I forgot my result. Because I got Hufflepuff twice and I refuse to accept it.
I’m a Ravenclaw. The quiz was wrong. I had to find the quiz that would understand me.
Reader, this is who I am. And honestly? I’m not even a little bit sorry about it.
Hi. I’m Sara. I Have a Problem.
I’ve been taking personality quizzes since before I knew what a personality was. As a kid, it was the ones in the back of magazines (you know the type). Circle A, B, or C to find out if you’re a Leader, a Dreamer, or a Caregiver! I circled every C and then had an identity crisis at age eleven. Healthy stuff.
In high school it was Facebook quizzes (rest in chaos). In university it was MBTI. I typed as INFJ, then INTJ, then spent two weeks convinced I was actually ENTP because I read a Tumblr post that resonated. In my twenties it was BuzzFeed.
Oh, BuzzFeed. My beloved. My nemesis.
Seven Years. Thousands of Quizzes. And Then the Ads Came.
BuzzFeed quizzes were, at their peak, a genuine cultural phenomenon. Which City Should You Actually Live In? What Does Your Pizza Order Say About Your Soul? Are You More Monica or Rachel? They were fun, they were shareable, they were weirdly accurate in the way that made you screenshot the result and send it to your group chat at 11pm with zero context.
I was obsessed. Not casually. Pathologically. I’m talking clearing my lunch break to take the new ones. I’m talking having opinions about which quiz categories were most reliable. I’m talking a seven-year run that produced exactly zero personal growth and approximately forty thousand browser tabs.
And then the ads came.
Not like, a reasonable number of ads. I mean the kind of ads that load before the page, between the questions, after each answer, and somehow also inside the quiz itself. Quiz pages that used to take three seconds started taking forty-five. On mobile it was basically unplayable. You’d tap Answer B and an ad for mattresses would slide in from the left and reset your progress and you’d have to start over. I started the Which Pasta Shape Are You? quiz fourteen times one evening because of this. Fourteen. Rigatoni had to wait.
I know. I know how this sounds. But I want you to understand: for someone who uses quizzes the way other people use journaling or therapy (as a genuine tool for self-reflection wrapped in a silly, low-stakes package), watching that experience get monetised into oblivion was genuinely upsetting. Like finding out your favourite café replaced its whole menu with sponsored content.
The Part Where I Do Something About It
I should be clear: I’m not a developer. I’m not a data scientist. I don’t have a computer science degree. I have a chronic inability to leave things alone when I think they could be better, a tolerance for chaos that borders on a personality disorder, and (as of recently) access to some genuinely incredible AI tools.
The idea started the way most of my ideas do: as a complaint. I was ranting to a friend about BuzzFeed’s loading times, and she said, “Why don’t you just make your own?” in that tone people use when they think they’re being dismissive. And I said “Maybe I will” in the tone I use when I’m absolutely about to spiral into a three-week project.
Three weeks became three months. Three months became QuizMe.
The concept is simple, even if the execution wasn’t: an AI-powered quiz platform that generates genuinely good personality quizzes: no ads, no endless loading, no dark patterns, no selling your data to someone who wants to advertise mattresses to you. Just the quiz. Just the result. Just the moment of oh my god this is so accurate or this is completely wrong and I need to retake it immediately.
The AI part came in because I wanted quizzes that felt written: with personality, with humour, with results that actually say something. Not the kind of slop you get when you ask a chatbot to “write a personality quiz” with no further instruction. I spent a lot of time working out how to make the AI outputs feel like they were written by someone who genuinely cares about making you laugh and making you think. Someone who, hypothetically, has taken enough personality quizzes to constitute a clinical study.
Someone like me.
Why Quizzes, Though? Like, Actually?
I get asked this a lot. Usually by people who haven’t taken a really good quiz recently, which I think explains everything.
Here’s my honest answer: a well-made personality quiz does something that very few things do: it gives you permission to think about yourself in a way that doesn’t feel self-indulgent. You’re not sitting in a circle talking about your feelings. You’re answering questions about which Disney villain you’d invite to brunch. And yet somewhere in that completely unserious exercise, something real surfaces. A preference you didn’t know you had. A pattern in your answers. A result that makes you go okay, that’s uncomfortably specific.
Quizzes are self-reflection with plausible deniability. You can share your result and people will engage with it because it’s fun. But underneath that, you’ve just told everyone exactly who you are. It’s vulnerability with a costume on. I think that’s kind of beautiful. I also think it’s genuinely useful.
Also: they’re just fun. Sometimes the answer is just that they’re fun and the fun is enough.
What This Blog Is Going to Be
I built QuizMe because I wanted better quizzes. But I also have a lot of thoughts: about personality psychology, about what our online habits reveal about us, about pop culture, about the science (and complete pseudoscience) of how we understand ourselves. This blog is where those thoughts are going to live.
Some posts will be serious-adjacent. Deep dives into what MBTI actually measures, and why you should probably take your type with a grain of salt. The psychology behind why we share our quiz results. Whether birth order actually affects personality or if we’ve all been had.
Some posts will be completely unhinged. An investigation into why everyone I know tested as either INFJ or ENFP and whether that’s statistically possible. A ranking of the best and worst quiz categories, from someone with seven years of data. A deep dive into the pasta shape quiz specifically, because I have things to say.
All of it will be honest. I’m not here to perform expertise I don’t have. I’m here as someone who loves this stuff, thinks about it probably more than is healthy, and built a whole website because the alternatives weren’t good enough.
Welcome to the blog. I hope something here makes you feel seen, or makes you laugh, or makes you immediately go take a quiz to process your feelings about it.
That’s the dream, honestly. That’s always been the dream.
Sara
Founder, Chief Quiz Officer, recovering Hufflepuff