Fellow INFPs, do you feel me?

Fellow INFPs, do you feel me?

Oh, my fellow INFPs, can you tell me? Do you feel fundamentally flawed?

Much of the time, I feel like nobody understands me. So many people seem to operate on logic and don’t understand that I am based in the heart. I must seem ridiculous to them, and I find that when I speak to them I have trouble packaging my words in a way that helps them understand how I’m feeling or why I feel the way I do. And I’ll admit I don’t always understand them either. How does one work from the mind and not from the heart?

I feel destined to be misunderstood and alone. All the things they love about me come from the same place as the things maybe they don’t love so much.

All that they adore in us can turn into the reasons they chose to ignore us. Our passion. Our heart.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always felt ashamed of the way I am. I noticed I was different–more sensitive–than others. Hiding the tears I cried during sad movies. Plastering on the fake smile that I cultivated to cover the injury inflicted upon me by the simplest of statements (to them) until I was alone and it dripped down my face like melting wax lips.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve worked hard to embrace my sensitivity and what makes me…me.  But it’s tough when a friend tells you that maybe you aren’t worth their friendship because you get sad or upset when they attack something that you are extremely passionate about. They don’t understand that it feels like the world might crumble without those things which make your heart soar. Without which, we might stay hidden in the dark shadows that our pain buries us in. Often times, they don’t even see how what they may have said could be perceived as an attack at all. Are we unsolvable puzzles to others?

When I love someone and find them worthy of my attention, I love them deep within every cell of my body. This doesn’t happen often. I don’t have many people that I want to focus on in such a grand way, but when I find them, it is like magic. They are magic. But if they end up rejecting me, it feels like a world of color was suddenly reduced to gray.

They may not understand that because I care for them so much, their words can sting more than anything brought upon me by those I do not give a shit for. I guess that is a lot of responsibility to put on someone who may not understand the space in which I live.

But I don’t think they understand the heavy load that my affections place on my shoulders. I feel the pain of others deeply and am often compelled to listen and help. Their pain becomes my pain. If someone or something matters to me, I will put everything I’ve got into making it all better for them.

But not everyone is like this. Sometimes when I need an understanding ear or hand to hold, I can come up empty. Left to shoulder the torturous burdens alone. Not that other types are bad. They just don’t see or feel things the way I do. I understand that they are not trying to neglect or hurt me but they are…different. But understanding that fact doesn’t lift the clouds, does it?

So, am I meant to be alone?

Perhaps this why so many of our kind turn to the pen. The page will always understand the rhythms to which our hearts thump. Putting our words into black and white feels like the safest way to express and release our pain. Maybe no one will read or listen but it helps when we can transform our feelings–heart–into art.

https://www.patreon.com/KAliceCompeau

INFP me.

INFP me.

I’ll never forget the first time I took the Myers-Briggs Personality test and learned I was an INFP. It was a little creepy how well the test knew me, but it was also a relief to read that there are others out there like me. Even though I tend to be a loner, I felt so much less alone.

To be honest, I’ve always been embarrassed by the way I am. I remember always crying at movies when others didn’t, desperately trying to stop the tears from forming then falling, and when they did, quickly trying to wipe them away before others saw. One time, when I was little, I vividly remember watching an episode of Highway to Heaven. In the episode, a homeless boy wishes that someone would love him, Jonathan comes to him to make his wish come true. It had a happy ending. I cried and cried. My sister laughed. Her laughter stung.

I learned to be embarrassed by who I am. “Too idealistic, too altruistic, impractical, taking things personally, and hard to get to know” these are the weaknesses of the INFP.  These are my weaknesses.

Yes, I am hard to get to know, and it takes a long time before I show people the real me. There are only a handful of people who truly know me. So when I finally let someone in, and they disappoint idealistic me, it hurts immensely.

I’m so thankful to be a writer. I could let the pain and shame about how I react consume me. But now, I take to the page and turn all the negative feelings I have for myself into works that I’m proud of.

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Do you know your personality type?

Are you an INFP, like me? How do you work through your “weaknesses?”

You can find out more about the INFP personality type here

https://www.patreon.com/KAliceCompeau