An Ode to INTJs

INTJs. They’re known as the stereotypical mysterious, scheming villain; albeit cocky know-it-alls, too. However, those two caricatures (and others) of this type couldn’t be more wrong.

The two closest people in my life are INTJs: my sister and my best friend. (I’m also certain my rabbi is too…) As such, I think I know this type rather well. Sure, it might be a biased perspective, but I don’t think these intuitive thinking types get the real, truthful credit they deserve.

Too often their dismissed as calloused, cold, calculating computers more machine than human. False. They are the most human, and they love with such a ferocity of emotion, anyone would be amazed at the depth of their passions. Furthermore, they fight for others’ humanity and dignity with a desire for justice unlike anything I’ve ever encountered.

I love INTJs. (Literally. But that’s beside the point.) What I should say, instead, is I enjoy them.

I enjoy their wit, their snark, their equal parts of sarcasm and sardonicism tied up in a bow of cynicism. I enjoy their analytical minds that take in a myriad of jumbled information and sort it into a beautiful picture of logic and understanding. I enjoy how they take any puzzle and will sit for hours – sometimes days depending on the game – trying to solve it for the mere reason of pleasure.

I cherish their loyalty, their patience, their steadfastness, their unwavering support. I value their passion, compassion, and depth of emotion.

I love that they are an abyss of knowledge and emotion wrapped up in a complexity comparable to any enigmatic being such as the Sphinx or Sherlock.

Above all, I love that they love as deeply as me, as wholly as me. It’s just different.

Being an INFJ, sometimes I feel alone in the world. That feeling has long been squelched and revealed as the lie that it was. However, there is no type I feel more akin to than INTJs. Perhaps it’s because growing up with one for a sister, I was stuck with one and had to get use to their incessant need for precision and efficiency in practically everything they do. (No, really. EVERYTHING.) Yet the feeling of “stuck” didn’t stick. Instead, I found someone who was like me in almost every way, except for one facet: my Feeling versus her Thinking.

Of course, this contrast did cause a lot of discord between my sister and I through the years. Sometimes it still does. But we learned we mirror each other, pointing out the areas or pieces on the multilevel chessboard we don’t see in this game of life, helping each other make the right moves so ultimately we can both win the game.

What once use to be our biggest rivalry is now our strongest alliance.

Thus, what I hate most of all is how little people seem to know INTJs.

*Side note: I think there’s far too much emphasis on INFJs in the Myers Briggs world, and personally, I’m getting sick of it. (INTPs are the other magical snowflakes that deserve some attention too, but I know them very little and lack the supposed “authority” to say anything about them.)

Now, I’m probably going to get a lot of flak for what I’m about to say, especially from my sister if she reads this. I’ll risk it. Whenever I think of INTJs, the metaphorical image which comes to mind is a hedgehog.

INTJs are hedgehogs.

When people first meet them, all they see are the squinty, seemingly scrutinizing eyes and defensive spikes on their back, which are actually quite painful if you get too close while they’re curled up. All the while, underneath their brash exterior of sarcastic wit and sardonic observation, is a soft, squishy underbelly of fluff and love displayed as a formidable, passionate loyalty and patience unparalleled by any other type.

As an INFJ – that supposed mythical unicorn of the Myers Briggs world, who is supposed to be all-sacrificial, altruistic, and loving – I can honestly confess my patience is sorely lacking compared to my INTJ companions. Extremely. I am very impatient, and the INTJs in my life consistently surpass me in withholding their annoyance, frustration, anger, etc. It astounds me, and I constantly find myself trying to be like them. And that’s just one example.

(If other INTJs are similar to my sister or best friend, then they might not enjoy the gushing I’ve done or could continue with, so I’ll try to keep it brief and find a conclusion.)

Perhaps since the existence of the first INTJ, they’ve always hidden under the persona we seemingly have given them in avoidance of the outside world. (Have I mentioned they’re also practically hermits?)

Maybe that’s their greatest scheme, their most successful illusion: making us believe in a false perception of who they truly are because if everyone knew about the gooey centers of these toffee-shelled individuals, then everyone would want one for themselves.

It would be like trying to adopt dragons for pets, making them less unique and rare, and instead a materialistic product for consumption. Such a reality would be a crime, and the INTJs would not stand for such frivolous pettiness, especially from their loved ones.

While I do think everyone would benefit from having their own INTJ, I selfishly like having my special, recherché INTJs in my life. They keep things intriguing because the best way to know if an INTJ not merely tolerates you, but enjoys you too, I daresay loves you, is when they let you into their rich, vibrant inner world of puzzles and mysteries and lets you play the games along with them. (Or at least try to.)

So if you’re one of the lucky ones – if in your journey through this world you stumble across this mythical creature, discover its secrets, and are invited into its lair – by all means, follow that dragon! Do everything in your power to become its friend and cherish such an exotic friendship. It is priceless.

Just remember, don’t touch its gold. You might regret it.