Raging INFJ

You know what stereotype of INFJs I hate most? The one which says we’re special snowflakes, rare unicorns, or pure cinnamon rolls which must be protected at all costs because we hate conflict and run at the sight of blood.

B.S.

Okay, yes, sure. I admit to hating conflict, but only when it’s petty, unresolved, malicious, etc. Conflict which seeks to destroy, not to establish truth.

There is a version of healthy conflict which exists. I mean, do we INFJs not wrestle with our own souls incessantly? That’s conflict with ourselves. It doesn’t degrade, demoralise, or strip us of our humanity. It makes us more real, more human, more authentic, more us.

Healthy confrontation seeking truth is not conflict.

I think most INFJs would agree with me that we will face whatever dragons we must for the sake of truth. However, we draw the line when conflict personally attacks us.

Except we never know what to do in response.

We either unleash an inner monster we hide away with all the locks and keys, secret passageways, enchantments and protection spells we can muster, ashamed of its existence, or we’re frozen, paralysed, and do nothing.

If there is one area which I’ve had the most difficulty, learning about myself and others, it is about knowing when to take a punch, proverbially turning the other cheek, and knowing when I’ve had enough, when it’s time to start throwing punches back.

Standing up for myself does not come easily nor naturally to me. It’s rather difficult. Bullying was a real problem I faced all the time growing up.

I remember one time when I came home from school. My mother gasped in shock when she saw my face, which had apparently broken out in some sort of rash around my mouth. She immediately called my father to look at what happened. They demanded to know how I received such an irritation, the splotchy red, swelling bumps making my mouth look diseased. When I said it was because someone, who I thought was my friend, tried to force me to eat grass by violently rubbing it across my tight lipped shut mouth, they were appalled.

My dad’s advice? “Next time that happens, whether it’s her or someone else, punch them.”

I was flabbergasted.

If hitting my sister wasn’t allowed, why on earth could I then hit my friends? How could that be permissible? They’re my friends. I didn’t want to hurt them, even if they were hurting me.

“If they do this to you, then they’re not your friend,” my dad retorted.

My dad was correct. I think if I had learned my lesson then, I wouldn’t have more bullying stories following after that. I wouldn’t be where I am now.

But that’s our curse as INFJs, isn’t it? We believe everyone deserves a second chance, everyone is good deep within their soul whilst simultaneously thinking the worst of everyone; that everyone will one day betray us just like all the others before them as the true skeptics and cynics we are.

And I hate it.

I wish I could be more like my INTJ sister, who’s sense of injustice is more keen, honed to a sharp blade on which I sometimes cut myself. Her patience for someone is great, but once they’ve crossed the line, they’re cut out.

Sure, we INFJs have the infamous “door slam”. I can still list all the people I’ve door slammed, and it hurts. So. effing. much.

To reach a point where I have to cut someone out of my life entirely because they’ve abused my patience, myself for their own selfish gain, taking with them pieces of my soul I’m terrified I’ll never see again? There is no greater pain.

That’s why I rarely use it. Why even now, when I’ve been fighting for 5 years I cannot, will not use it.

And you know what? I think if the people I have door slammed truly, viscerally understood why I cut them out, and apologised, seeking to make amends, to repay the costs of their actions, make recompense — I might actually learn to trust them again. (Forgiving them was done whenever I left. Trust and forgiveness are not the same.)

Then again, I don’t have to ever trust them again if I don’t want to, but I don’t want to live my life like that: isolated and shut away from the world because of the pain I’ve endured. (Another reason I refuse to door slam anyone.)

What’s left then but to fight? And learning how to fight for myself and not hurt people I think is both the stupidest thing I’ve ever tried and…nope, it’s just stupid, and a bit crazy.

I just pray, whatever happens, Hashem guides my punches; that He tells me when to throw ’em or when to take ’em.

And if I survive this, I’ll let all my other fellow INFJs know the secrets of how we can maintain our authentic pure snowflake souls with all our sparkly, mystical qualities, not succumbing to the door slam whilst loving whomever we’re punching.

Then again, maybe that’s our greatest struggle: learning how to love, but what is love?

Post published addition: Door slamming a person and letting someone go are two completely different things. Door slamming is executed when trust is broken; letting someone go is not a result of broken trust.

Rather it is due to circumstances of Life, whatever they may be, creating distance between two people, and thus allowing said distance to grow, to exist because ignoring it causes too much tension, this forced maintenance straining the relationship.

As a result, intimacy decreases between the two parties, but I do believe no love is lost. It becomes merely dormant. (At least, for myself. I can’t speak for everyone.)

I find myself letting people go all the time. I had to learn this as a part of standing up for myself, and I do believe it was as difficult, if not more, than door slamming someone, but why is another story entirely.