Most of the time I give no thought to what kind of person I am. I'm sure most people are the same, but when I'm thrown into a tailspin of emotions, the balm I desperately seek lies in my personality type.
I know who I am, and who I'm not. I'm an INTJ. I'll not be going into a lengthy description here, as I'm sure it would either bore you or distract you. That being said, when I'm in an emotional tsunami, and yes, that is what it mostly feels like, I remember who and what I really am, and it gives me comfort.
I don't deal well with emotions, especially my own. Most of the time, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel, and what I do feel makes me confused. The problem is that my feelings are hard-wired to my brain, so if my boyfriend and I are having a fight, for instance, I'm not going to lash out and yell and be emotional. I'm going to get very quiet and retreat, and in my head I'm going to figure out what the hell is going on, make corrections, and then move on.
And when a relationship is no longer working, when there is no longer any benefit it, I walk away. Which is what I've done recently. And I've been feeling guilty for not feeling upset about it. I feel like I should feel more, but I'm just confused and upset that I have all these emotions running around in my head.
And I think - constantly! I go over each and every aspect of what went right and what went wrong, And I get mad at myself that I think about him, because I don't want to think about him, but I know it's just how my brain operates. And once I've processed all of my emotions, and I've thought about every last little detail, it'll finally be over and done with, and my life will once more settle down into an easy pattern.
Friday, January 11, 2013
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Sometimes
Sometimes it feels like I've known you forever, and sometimes you're a stranger to me.
Sometimes I know I love you, and sometimes it feels like I'm imagining these feelings or making more of them than what they truly are.
Sometimes I believe you, and sometimes it feels like you're just telling me what you think I want to hear, or worse, what you're only feeling at the moment and they are only fleeting.
Sometimes it feels like I'm a late night friend whom you call when you're drunk and lonely, that I'm not a part of your real, every day life.
I've no context, no box into which you easily fit. And I need you, want you, to fit somewhere in my life. I introduced you to the most important thing in my life - my son. I wouldn't do that if I didn't trust you, didn't believe that you were a good influence on him. I did it for my son's sake. He needs a good role model, someone to whom he can look up and aspire to be. But I'm not always sure you should be that person. After all, what do I truly know about you?
I know you're a good, kind-hearted person. I know you've a lot of love to give, lots of advice to bestow. I know you wouldn't steer him wrong or confuse him with misguided thoughts or ideas. I know you've his best interest at heart. And yet... Yet I don't know if it was a good idea. You only seem available when it's convenient for you. But how can I say that with any amount of certainty?
I don't know your life. I don't know what you do during those hours and days when we don't talk.
I'm happy because of you, and yet this happiness unsettles me. I'm not one who can just go with the flow. I think. I plan. I imagine. I plan some more. I think of what could be, what should be, and what probably will be. These things are not the same.
What could be is us, together. I feel like we could create a good life. What should be is you finding someone who can give you what you want and need. But what probably will be is us, alone. Not exactly strangers, but not really connected, either.
I imagine us meeting and what we would say to each other. Would we hug? Would you place your hand gently on my face and say, "You're here, and you're real; that is enough for me?" But that is all fantasy, all speculation. More than likely you will look me over and smile, but I would see in your eyes your unspoken thoughts. You're not who I was expecting, and I don't know how to combine the person in front of me with the voice on the phone.
Perhaps we're better off in this limbo, this combination of imagined reality and perfect fantasy. Not really knowing. We let ourselves imagine the worst then tell ourselves they can't be as bad as we've imagined the other to be.
Sometimes I know I love you, and sometimes it feels like I'm imagining these feelings or making more of them than what they truly are.
Sometimes I believe you, and sometimes it feels like you're just telling me what you think I want to hear, or worse, what you're only feeling at the moment and they are only fleeting.
Sometimes it feels like I'm a late night friend whom you call when you're drunk and lonely, that I'm not a part of your real, every day life.
I've no context, no box into which you easily fit. And I need you, want you, to fit somewhere in my life. I introduced you to the most important thing in my life - my son. I wouldn't do that if I didn't trust you, didn't believe that you were a good influence on him. I did it for my son's sake. He needs a good role model, someone to whom he can look up and aspire to be. But I'm not always sure you should be that person. After all, what do I truly know about you?
I know you're a good, kind-hearted person. I know you've a lot of love to give, lots of advice to bestow. I know you wouldn't steer him wrong or confuse him with misguided thoughts or ideas. I know you've his best interest at heart. And yet... Yet I don't know if it was a good idea. You only seem available when it's convenient for you. But how can I say that with any amount of certainty?
I don't know your life. I don't know what you do during those hours and days when we don't talk.
I'm happy because of you, and yet this happiness unsettles me. I'm not one who can just go with the flow. I think. I plan. I imagine. I plan some more. I think of what could be, what should be, and what probably will be. These things are not the same.
What could be is us, together. I feel like we could create a good life. What should be is you finding someone who can give you what you want and need. But what probably will be is us, alone. Not exactly strangers, but not really connected, either.
I imagine us meeting and what we would say to each other. Would we hug? Would you place your hand gently on my face and say, "You're here, and you're real; that is enough for me?" But that is all fantasy, all speculation. More than likely you will look me over and smile, but I would see in your eyes your unspoken thoughts. You're not who I was expecting, and I don't know how to combine the person in front of me with the voice on the phone.
Perhaps we're better off in this limbo, this combination of imagined reality and perfect fantasy. Not really knowing. We let ourselves imagine the worst then tell ourselves they can't be as bad as we've imagined the other to be.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Moving Tribute to 9/11
Beautiful memorial to 9/11 and perfect description of Americans and all the world on that horrible day in history.
The Binch
(By Rob Suggs)
Every U down in Uville liked the U.S. a lot,
But the Binch, who lived Far East of U-ville, did not.
The Binch hated U.S! The whole U.S. way!
Now don't ask me why, for nobody can say,
It could be his turban was tied on too tight.
Or the sun from the desert had beaten too bright
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.
But, Whatever the reason, his heart or his turban,
He stood facing U-ville, the part that was urban.
"They're doing their business," he snarled from his perch.
"They're raising their families! They're going to church!
They're leading the world, and their empire is thriving,
I MUST keep the S's and U's from surviving!"
Tomorrow, he knew, all the U's and the S's,
Would put on their pants and their shirts and their dresses,
They'd go to their offices, playgrounds and schools,
And abide by their U and S values and rules.
And then they'd do something he liked least of all,
Every U down in U-ville, the tall and the small,
Would stand all united, each U and each S,
And they'd sing U-ville's anthem, "God bless us! God bless!"
All around their Twin Towers of Uville, they'd stand, and their voices would drown every sound in the land.
"I must stop that singing," Binch said with a smirk,
And he had an idea -- an idea that might work!
The Binch stole some U airplanes in U morning hours,
And crashed them right into the Uville Twin Towers.
"They'll wake to disaster!" he snickered, so sour,
"And how can they sing when they can't find a tower?"
The Binch cocked his ear as they woke from their sleeping,
All set to enjoy their U-wailing and weeping,
Instead he heard something that started quite low,
And it built up quite slow, but it started to grow--
And the Binch heard the most unpredictable thing...
And he couldn't believe it--they started to sing!
He stared down at U-ville, not trusting his eyes,
What he saw was a shocking, disgusting surprise!
Every U down in U-ville, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without any towers at all!
He HADN'T stopped U-Ville from singing! It sung!
For down deep in the hearts of the old and the young
Those Twin Towers were standing, called Hope and called Pride,
And you can't smash the towers we hold deep inside.
So we circle the sites where our heroes did fall,
With a hand in each hand of the tall and the small,
And we mourn for our losses while knowing we'll cope,
For we still have inside that U-Pride and U-Hope.
For America means a bit more than tall towers,
It means more than wealth or political powers,
It's more than our enemies ever could guess,
So may God bless America! Bless us! God bless!
The Binch
(By Rob Suggs)
Every U down in Uville liked the U.S. a lot,
But the Binch, who lived Far East of U-ville, did not.
The Binch hated U.S! The whole U.S. way!
Now don't ask me why, for nobody can say,
It could be his turban was tied on too tight.
Or the sun from the desert had beaten too bright
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.
But, Whatever the reason, his heart or his turban,
He stood facing U-ville, the part that was urban.
"They're doing their business," he snarled from his perch.
"They're raising their families! They're going to church!
They're leading the world, and their empire is thriving,
I MUST keep the S's and U's from surviving!"
Tomorrow, he knew, all the U's and the S's,
Would put on their pants and their shirts and their dresses,
They'd go to their offices, playgrounds and schools,
And abide by their U and S values and rules.
And then they'd do something he liked least of all,
Every U down in U-ville, the tall and the small,
Would stand all united, each U and each S,
And they'd sing U-ville's anthem, "God bless us! God bless!"
All around their Twin Towers of Uville, they'd stand, and their voices would drown every sound in the land.
"I must stop that singing," Binch said with a smirk,
And he had an idea -- an idea that might work!
The Binch stole some U airplanes in U morning hours,
And crashed them right into the Uville Twin Towers.
"They'll wake to disaster!" he snickered, so sour,
"And how can they sing when they can't find a tower?"
The Binch cocked his ear as they woke from their sleeping,
All set to enjoy their U-wailing and weeping,
Instead he heard something that started quite low,
And it built up quite slow, but it started to grow--
And the Binch heard the most unpredictable thing...
And he couldn't believe it--they started to sing!
He stared down at U-ville, not trusting his eyes,
What he saw was a shocking, disgusting surprise!
Every U down in U-ville, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without any towers at all!
He HADN'T stopped U-Ville from singing! It sung!
For down deep in the hearts of the old and the young
Those Twin Towers were standing, called Hope and called Pride,
And you can't smash the towers we hold deep inside.
So we circle the sites where our heroes did fall,
With a hand in each hand of the tall and the small,
And we mourn for our losses while knowing we'll cope,
For we still have inside that U-Pride and U-Hope.
For America means a bit more than tall towers,
It means more than wealth or political powers,
It's more than our enemies ever could guess,
So may God bless America! Bless us! God bless!
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Grief
My dad is dying.
It hurts so much to see those words written down, but it doesn't make them any less true.
I've been lying to myself for a while now. With all the experience I've had in the nursing field, I'd somehow managed to convince myself that because I've seen others much worse hang on for much longer, that my dad would be one of those people. Now I know that isn't going to be the case.
He's dying.
Maybe not this week. Please God, not before Easter.
His heart is growing weaker. He has congestive heart failure, among other things. Right now, he's in the hospital. He's also diabetic, and his blood sugars have been very high lately. He's also been running a low-grade fever off and on for over a week. His doctor is attributing the fever to an infection that is masked by his lung cancer. I have finally admitted to myself that it is now time for hospice, if he gets out of the hospital. If there is nothing more they can do for him there, he should come home.
I can't bear the thought of losing my dad. Of my son losing his dziadzi. Of my mom without him. I can't stomach the thought of a funeral.
I've dealt with a lot in my life, but nothing has come close to this. My dad is my rock, the one I'm most like. The one who just gets me. I detest the idea of having to be the strong one, the one to hold everyone else's hand and help them through this, when the one person who has always held MY hand is the one to whom I'll be saying goodbye.
I can't imagine a world without him. I don't want a world without him. And yet, that time is drawing near. I feel it deep inside. I'm sitting in my kitchen, and it all seems so foreign to me. My life feels foreign to me at this moment. I don't like it. I want to run to my dad, to hold him, to have him hold me. To tell him I love him again. To hear him tell me he loves me. I need his smile and his gruff words. And it kills me inside to see the defeat in his eyes, when I've always seen love and acceptance.
I don't want to see him sick and suffering. But I need him, and I'm just not ready to say goodbye.
Who will hold my hand when he is gone?
It hurts so much to see those words written down, but it doesn't make them any less true.
I've been lying to myself for a while now. With all the experience I've had in the nursing field, I'd somehow managed to convince myself that because I've seen others much worse hang on for much longer, that my dad would be one of those people. Now I know that isn't going to be the case.
He's dying.
Maybe not this week. Please God, not before Easter.
His heart is growing weaker. He has congestive heart failure, among other things. Right now, he's in the hospital. He's also diabetic, and his blood sugars have been very high lately. He's also been running a low-grade fever off and on for over a week. His doctor is attributing the fever to an infection that is masked by his lung cancer. I have finally admitted to myself that it is now time for hospice, if he gets out of the hospital. If there is nothing more they can do for him there, he should come home.
I can't bear the thought of losing my dad. Of my son losing his dziadzi. Of my mom without him. I can't stomach the thought of a funeral.
I've dealt with a lot in my life, but nothing has come close to this. My dad is my rock, the one I'm most like. The one who just gets me. I detest the idea of having to be the strong one, the one to hold everyone else's hand and help them through this, when the one person who has always held MY hand is the one to whom I'll be saying goodbye.
I can't imagine a world without him. I don't want a world without him. And yet, that time is drawing near. I feel it deep inside. I'm sitting in my kitchen, and it all seems so foreign to me. My life feels foreign to me at this moment. I don't like it. I want to run to my dad, to hold him, to have him hold me. To tell him I love him again. To hear him tell me he loves me. I need his smile and his gruff words. And it kills me inside to see the defeat in his eyes, when I've always seen love and acceptance.
I don't want to see him sick and suffering. But I need him, and I'm just not ready to say goodbye.
Who will hold my hand when he is gone?
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Hurt and Confusion
I fear I may have a stalker, and I waffle between confusion, hurt and a weird combination of happiness and acceptance.
I may be totally wrong, and I'm equally hoping and I'm wrong and right. I fell in love last year. This man was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my with, grow old with, fight and make up with. Emotionally, though, he was a wreck. I think he still visits my blog and Twitter page, although I have no way of knowing for sure. If it's him, he's switched internet providers. But the visitor in question acts the same way the ex-boyfriend did when he wanted me to know he was hopping on my pages. He exits my blog to my Twitter page. He clicks on responses I make to other people. There's only one person who's ever done that, and that is Sam.
I can't say I miss him, I've realized that he was not the man I need in my life. But yet, a part of me still has a hard time letting go of those dreams I built around him. He's moved on with his life, having gotten married, even. That hasn't stopped him from stalking me, if it is truly him. My gut says it is, and I've learned the hard way to trust my instincts.
Perhaps it boils down to me wanting him to realize the mistake he made by fucking with my heart and causing me to walk away. I want him to regret his mistakes. I don't want him back in my life, however. Because he just isn't right for me. I do miss him, though. I miss having a man in my life. Someone to hold me. Someone who listened. Someone who was mine. He was good like that. He made me feel like a woman, instead of feeling like the roles I take on in other people's lives - mother, sister, daughter. I was just me, with him. And that was important to me. I liked being a girlfriend. A lover. A confidant.
All that isn't enough, though. He was untrustworthy, and he hurt me. He was too wrapped up in himself to think about me. And I think, deep down, that he resented my son.
I don't mind if he reads Twitter or my blogs. It is almost comforting, knowing he is still on the fringes. That he hasn't forgotten about me. This is why I don't lock my Twitter account or block the ISP address. More fool me, I suppose.
I may be totally wrong, and I'm equally hoping and I'm wrong and right. I fell in love last year. This man was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my with, grow old with, fight and make up with. Emotionally, though, he was a wreck. I think he still visits my blog and Twitter page, although I have no way of knowing for sure. If it's him, he's switched internet providers. But the visitor in question acts the same way the ex-boyfriend did when he wanted me to know he was hopping on my pages. He exits my blog to my Twitter page. He clicks on responses I make to other people. There's only one person who's ever done that, and that is Sam.
I can't say I miss him, I've realized that he was not the man I need in my life. But yet, a part of me still has a hard time letting go of those dreams I built around him. He's moved on with his life, having gotten married, even. That hasn't stopped him from stalking me, if it is truly him. My gut says it is, and I've learned the hard way to trust my instincts.
Perhaps it boils down to me wanting him to realize the mistake he made by fucking with my heart and causing me to walk away. I want him to regret his mistakes. I don't want him back in my life, however. Because he just isn't right for me. I do miss him, though. I miss having a man in my life. Someone to hold me. Someone who listened. Someone who was mine. He was good like that. He made me feel like a woman, instead of feeling like the roles I take on in other people's lives - mother, sister, daughter. I was just me, with him. And that was important to me. I liked being a girlfriend. A lover. A confidant.
All that isn't enough, though. He was untrustworthy, and he hurt me. He was too wrapped up in himself to think about me. And I think, deep down, that he resented my son.
I don't mind if he reads Twitter or my blogs. It is almost comforting, knowing he is still on the fringes. That he hasn't forgotten about me. This is why I don't lock my Twitter account or block the ISP address. More fool me, I suppose.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
A New Year, a New Start
Hello and Happy New Year!
So much has been happened the second half of last year, and it's been ages and ages since I've updated anything here, that I think now would be a good time to update.
My family:
As most know, my dad has health issues. I'm glad to report that, while his health isn't great, he's holding steady. We had a major scare over Thanksgiving; we thought we were going to lose him. He's recovering and slowly getting stronger, thank God. I wrote him a letter this year for Christmas, telling him that he is my hero and the person I look up to most. He's taught me two important lessons: a.) family is everything, and b.) accept that life that God has given you, then strive and work hard to make it better. It is hard to not want more, to wish to have things differently. It is sometimes very, very hard to accept "your lot in life," so to speak. That doesn't mean it can't be changed, but it starts with accepting where you are.
My son is getting so big! He now has braces. And a dad. After a few rocky months, he is connecting with his dad and sister, and I couldn't be happier. Personally, that chapter of my life is closed; but I'm encouraging them to spend time together and get to know each other. The three of them love guns. In fact, Christmas weekend they were cleaning guns together. The family that shoots together.... yeah, whatever. I like guns, but I won't own one, and I certainly won't have one in my house. But it's good that they can bond over the History Channel and History Channel and Outdoor Life. His dad bought him hunting knives and a pocket knife for Christmas. I cringed, but they thought it was cool. Who am I to argue? I'm only the clueless mom right now. That's okay, I'll suffer through. My boy and his dad are learning they belong to each other, and that's a pretty damn cool thing.
And speaking of sex...
I've recently ended a relationship with a man I've dubbed, "an emotional wrecking-ball." I like to think I'm pretty intuitive when it comes to others, but I was totally blindsided this time. I believed every lie and line he handed me and let him continue with his bad behavior until I finally reached my breaking point. Do I believe he cheated on me? Yep, I do. Am I much better off without him? Oh, hell yes. I keep waiting to miss him and feel bad about the break-up, but I'm not going to hold my breath. I'm feeling pretty damn good these days.
So much has been happened the second half of last year, and it's been ages and ages since I've updated anything here, that I think now would be a good time to update.
My family:
As most know, my dad has health issues. I'm glad to report that, while his health isn't great, he's holding steady. We had a major scare over Thanksgiving; we thought we were going to lose him. He's recovering and slowly getting stronger, thank God. I wrote him a letter this year for Christmas, telling him that he is my hero and the person I look up to most. He's taught me two important lessons: a.) family is everything, and b.) accept that life that God has given you, then strive and work hard to make it better. It is hard to not want more, to wish to have things differently. It is sometimes very, very hard to accept "your lot in life," so to speak. That doesn't mean it can't be changed, but it starts with accepting where you are.
My son is getting so big! He now has braces. And a dad. After a few rocky months, he is connecting with his dad and sister, and I couldn't be happier. Personally, that chapter of my life is closed; but I'm encouraging them to spend time together and get to know each other. The three of them love guns. In fact, Christmas weekend they were cleaning guns together. The family that shoots together.... yeah, whatever. I like guns, but I won't own one, and I certainly won't have one in my house. But it's good that they can bond over the History Channel and History Channel and Outdoor Life. His dad bought him hunting knives and a pocket knife for Christmas. I cringed, but they thought it was cool. Who am I to argue? I'm only the clueless mom right now. That's okay, I'll suffer through. My boy and his dad are learning they belong to each other, and that's a pretty damn cool thing.
And speaking of sex...
I've recently ended a relationship with a man I've dubbed, "an emotional wrecking-ball." I like to think I'm pretty intuitive when it comes to others, but I was totally blindsided this time. I believed every lie and line he handed me and let him continue with his bad behavior until I finally reached my breaking point. Do I believe he cheated on me? Yep, I do. Am I much better off without him? Oh, hell yes. I keep waiting to miss him and feel bad about the break-up, but I'm not going to hold my breath. I'm feeling pretty damn good these days.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
So Tell Me Something About Yourself...
Isn't that the most hated request known? What the hell do you want to know? I like chocolate cake. I'm a lefty. I'd rather go to bed at sunrise than wake up at sunrise.
Tell me something... Don't you wish, when you meet someone new, that you could just forgo that awkward "getting to know you" stage and just hand them a manual that says, "All You Need to Know About Me."
Yeah. I wish that all the fucking time. I took the Myers-Briggs personality test a few years ago. I retake it every once in a while, and it hasn't changed. The results? INTJ. Here is what you need to know. (And I'm going to do a lot of cut and paste, here.)
INTJs apply the criterion "Does it work?" This produces an unusual independence of mind, freeing the INTJ from the constraints of authority, convention, or sentiment for its own sake ... INTJs are known as the "Systems Builders" of the types, perhaps in part because they possess the unusual trait combination of imagination and reliability. Personal relationships, particularly romantic ones, can be the INTJ's Achilles heel. This happens in part because many INTJs do not readily grasp the social rituals. Perhaps the most fundamental problem, however, is that INTJs really want people to make sense.
INTJs are analytical. They are most comfortable working alone and tend to be less sociable than other types. Nevertheless, they are prepared to lead if no one else seems up to the task, or if they see a major weakness in the current leadership. They tend to be pragmatic, logical, and creative. They have a low tolerance for spin or rampant emotionalism. They are not generally susceptible to catchphrases and do not recognize authority based on tradition, rank, or title.
INTJs are strong individualists who seek new angles or novel ways of looking at things. They enjoy coming to new understandings. They tend to be insightful and mentally quick; however, this mental quickness may not always be outwardly apparent to others since they keep a great deal to themselves. They are very determined people who trust their vision of the possibilities, regardless of what others think. They may even be considered the most independent of all of the sixteen personality types. INTJs are at their best in quietly and firmly developing their ideas, theories, and principles.
Hallmarks of the INTJ include independence of thought and a desire for efficiency. They work best when given autonomy and creative freedom. They harbor an innate desire to express themselves by conceptualizing their own intellectual designs. They have a talent for analyzing and formulating complex theories. INTJs are generally well-suited for occupations within academia, research, consulting, management, science, engineering, and law. They are often acutely aware of their own knowledge and abilities—as well as their limitations and what they don't know. INTJs thus develop a strong confidence in their ability and talents, making them natural leaders.
In forming relationships, INTJs tend to seek out others with similar character traits and ideologies. Agreement on theoretical concepts is an important aspect of their relationships. By nature INTJs can be demanding in their expectations, and approach relationships in a rational manner. As a result, INTJs may not always respond to a spontaneous infatuation but wait for a mate who better fits their set criteria. They tend to be stable, reliable, and dedicated. Harmony in relationships and home life tends to be extremely important to them. They generally withhold strong emotion and do not like to waste time with what they consider irrational social rituals. This may cause non-INTJs to perceive them as distant and reserved; nevertheless, INTJs are usually very loyal partners who are prepared to commit substantial energy and time into a relationship to make it work.
As mates, INTJs want harmony and order in the home and in relationships. The most independent of all types, INTJs trust their intuition when choosing friends and mates—even in spite of contradictory evidence or pressure from others. The emotions of an INTJ are hard to read, and neither male nor female INTJs are apt to express emotional reactions. At times, INTJs seem cold, reserved, and unresponsive, while in fact they are almost hypersensitive to signals of rejection from those they care for.
There you go. Me, in a nutshell.
Tell me something... Don't you wish, when you meet someone new, that you could just forgo that awkward "getting to know you" stage and just hand them a manual that says, "All You Need to Know About Me."
Yeah. I wish that all the fucking time. I took the Myers-Briggs personality test a few years ago. I retake it every once in a while, and it hasn't changed. The results? INTJ. Here is what you need to know. (And I'm going to do a lot of cut and paste, here.)
INTJs apply the criterion "Does it work?" This produces an unusual independence of mind, freeing the INTJ from the constraints of authority, convention, or sentiment for its own sake ... INTJs are known as the "Systems Builders" of the types, perhaps in part because they possess the unusual trait combination of imagination and reliability. Personal relationships, particularly romantic ones, can be the INTJ's Achilles heel. This happens in part because many INTJs do not readily grasp the social rituals. Perhaps the most fundamental problem, however, is that INTJs really want people to make sense.
INTJs are analytical. They are most comfortable working alone and tend to be less sociable than other types. Nevertheless, they are prepared to lead if no one else seems up to the task, or if they see a major weakness in the current leadership. They tend to be pragmatic, logical, and creative. They have a low tolerance for spin or rampant emotionalism. They are not generally susceptible to catchphrases and do not recognize authority based on tradition, rank, or title.
INTJs are strong individualists who seek new angles or novel ways of looking at things. They enjoy coming to new understandings. They tend to be insightful and mentally quick; however, this mental quickness may not always be outwardly apparent to others since they keep a great deal to themselves. They are very determined people who trust their vision of the possibilities, regardless of what others think. They may even be considered the most independent of all of the sixteen personality types. INTJs are at their best in quietly and firmly developing their ideas, theories, and principles.
Hallmarks of the INTJ include independence of thought and a desire for efficiency. They work best when given autonomy and creative freedom. They harbor an innate desire to express themselves by conceptualizing their own intellectual designs. They have a talent for analyzing and formulating complex theories. INTJs are generally well-suited for occupations within academia, research, consulting, management, science, engineering, and law. They are often acutely aware of their own knowledge and abilities—as well as their limitations and what they don't know. INTJs thus develop a strong confidence in their ability and talents, making them natural leaders.
In forming relationships, INTJs tend to seek out others with similar character traits and ideologies. Agreement on theoretical concepts is an important aspect of their relationships. By nature INTJs can be demanding in their expectations, and approach relationships in a rational manner. As a result, INTJs may not always respond to a spontaneous infatuation but wait for a mate who better fits their set criteria. They tend to be stable, reliable, and dedicated. Harmony in relationships and home life tends to be extremely important to them. They generally withhold strong emotion and do not like to waste time with what they consider irrational social rituals. This may cause non-INTJs to perceive them as distant and reserved; nevertheless, INTJs are usually very loyal partners who are prepared to commit substantial energy and time into a relationship to make it work.
As mates, INTJs want harmony and order in the home and in relationships. The most independent of all types, INTJs trust their intuition when choosing friends and mates—even in spite of contradictory evidence or pressure from others. The emotions of an INTJ are hard to read, and neither male nor female INTJs are apt to express emotional reactions. At times, INTJs seem cold, reserved, and unresponsive, while in fact they are almost hypersensitive to signals of rejection from those they care for.
There you go. Me, in a nutshell.
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