If you were to choose a label for yourself, what would it be?

No, not Vegetarian Vegetable or Chicken Noodle. I’m not talking about soup labels now. I mean, how would you describe yourself? Of course, self-labeling is difficult, because we know ourselves to be so complicated, so multi-faceted, so unique. How can we narrow down our myriad attributes to fit just one label?

Luckily for us, other people, from friends and family to school administrators to doctors and mental health professionals to absolute strangers, are all too willing to do it for us, selecting from a vast store of ready-made labels.

Some are positive or neutral.

Others are negative. What about super mom, single mom, stay-at-home mom? Or what about deadbeat dad?

Is Ronald a hard worker, or a workaholic? Is his wife Deirdre a cooperative, helpful person, or merely a people pleaser? Is their son, Gilford, independent and self-directed, or just plain ornery?

Here are some old-fashioned labels: coot, curmudgeon, flibbertigibbet, guttersnipe.

Many times we don’t like the labels other people give us. They say sticks and stones will break your bones but words will never hurt you, but, as we have all learned by now, it isn’t true.

It is, however, true that I am made of rubber, you are made of glue, everything you say bounces off of me and sticks onto you.

Some labels are so insulting, not to mention vulgar, that I can’t even mention them here, but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.

Racial slurs are a particularly infuriating kind of labeling. When I hear racial and ethnic slurs I get so angry I start spouting the aforementioned vulgar epithets, and then I get even angrier, because I’ve been reduced to that level.

There are people who delight in riling up emotions this way, and there are plenty of names for them. When they’re causing trouble on the internet, they’re called trolls. I like that label.

Psychological labels are some of the most popular. Instead of being scatterbrained, someone is ADD — suffering from attention deficit disorder. Instead of suffering from attention deficit disorder, she’s creative. There is not much difference between the checklists for ADD and creativity.

Or, he’s not too lazy to clean the house, he’s depressed. Housework is linked to anxiety and depression — the old A and D.

When a person is depressed, he is likely to lie around and not pick up after himself. What’s the use? he reasons. He prefers to devote his time to staring off into space and complaining about world events, how dumb television is, how ignorant people are in general, and so on. Then, as the clutter level rises around him, he becomes more depressed, thinking, “I’m the kind of person who lives in a messy house, practically a hoarder! I’ll never change. Why even try? And there’s nothing good on TV.”

Neat freaks, otherwise labeled worry warts or OCD people, short for obsessive compulsive disorder, are much better at keeping house, but work themselves into a snit in an all-out effort to control their environment. Fold those towels! Alphabetize the spice rack! Weed the garden, and while you’re at it, chop back the evening primrose. It has a pretty name, yes, but it’s trying to take over.

Alert! Alert! Another leaf just fell off the maple tree. Get the rake. Vacuum the dog.

OCD people also find time for other nagging worries, such as preparing for Halloween and Christmas. Christmas is of course intrinsically more worrisome, but has the advantage of being further away.

Don’t recognize yourself in any of these labels? Well, keep looking. Perhaps you’re a cranky old recluse, or possibly a cat lady. Do you for instance start conversations with your cat, asking for his opinion, and then answer for him, in a squeaky little voice? No, no, of course you don’t, neither do I.

Troll, snowflake, insurrectionist, narcissist, deplorable, pedophile, zombie-liberal, neo-fascist, crypto-fascist, bum. We label something so that we can put it in a box and then mentally dispose of it. Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to come up with positive labels. Knight in shining armor.

Mr. Right. Girl Next Door. Job creator.

I’ve decided to go back to my original choice, tomato bisque.

Have a good week.

(Martha Allen lives in Keene Valley. She has been writing for the News for more than 20 years.)