What This INFP Thinks About Money

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I’m in a funny mood today, the kind of mood where I wish something magical and exciting would happen, right on my doorstep, so that I can be blasted out of my everyday, humdrum existence. 

I’ve been posting on this blog of mine a little more often lately, partly because I’ve been inspired more often, but also because I have decided to treat blogging like a second job. While it doesn’t exactly bring in an income, I have received a small sum of money over time through my Patreon page, certainly not enough to live on, but enough to buy some food for a couple of days, and I am so grateful to those who took the time and effort to donate and help me out. That doesn’t mean that I’ll love you more just because you donate to me—I adore all of my readers equally—but I must admit, having that extra cash meant I felt as though my writing and the extraneous services I provide had some sort of monetary value in this world, no matter how little.

Obviously, blogging isn’t a full-time job for me—in fact, it’s not even a part-time job. I researched my blog online, on one of those calculate-your-blog’s-net-worth-site’s, and I found my blog was valued at around $200, which, in the grand scheme of things, is quite a pittance, especially for the hours of work and effort I’ve poured into maintaining it, the time I’ve spent conjuring up blog ideas and then sitting at my desk, typing out the words one by one, sometimes easily, sometimes excruciatingly. But, thankfully, I got into blogging for the love of it, and somehow, I kept it up, 6 or so years have passed, I have met hundreds of wonderful people through this blog, and enjoyed every single minute of it, and that’s something no money in the world can ever buy.

In the past, I wouldn’t have dreamed of mentioning money when it comes to writing or art—at the tender age of 16 or 17, I would have scoffed at you, and stated that art, or writing, or creative pursuits, have a value no money in the world could ever purchase. I was wrong. Now, at 21, I’ve grown up a bit, and realised the power of and meaning behind money. Money, in a way, creates a concrete system whereby we determine what has value in society. Only if we value something very deeply or need something completely are we able to part with money in exchange for it. For instance, if I had to choose between buying books or buying food, in the past, I would have boasted about how I would buy books instead of food, because that’s how “committed” I am to the world of art. Nonsense. If I’m starving, and I have experienced being hungry a couple of times over the past 4 years of my life, simply because after rent and electricity sometimes there isn’t enough money left over for enough food, I am bound to choose food over books, no matter how important art is for me, because if I’m starving, I don’t have the concentration to read the books anyway, and if I’m dead, what use are books to me?

Money is highly important. It’s why the entertainment and book industry always suffers, always goes through highs and lows, and people in high positions and business suits rub their hands and fret over the “future of the industry”, because they know art isn’t a necessity! For most of the world, art isn’t even in their radar—they’re too busy figuring out ways to survive to self-actualise. So, really, art is a luxury, a gift and a damn luxury, available only to those rich enough to have their basic needs of food, shelter and clothing covered before ascending up the pyramid of needs. In that sense, I’m very, very lucky.

So, money is important. Extremely important. I looked down on money a lot in my younger years, and I think this is not uncommon among INFPs. I thought money was the bane of all evil, because it forced me to get a “normal job” and slave away at an occupation that allowed me no room for joy or creativity. I even considered living in a van or out of the back of a car, in order to escape the capitalist demands of society. All that has changed. Without money, the world would not exist. Without it, I wouldn’t have the internet, this laptop, my bed, the food in my fridge—nothing. It’s a bartering tool, a form of exchange: it’s the reason we can work at one job, and exchange those sweat, blood and tears spent during those 8 hours of the day for other items, like food or a ticket to the movies or a place to sleep. 

And when it comes to art, unfortunately, if you want to make a living in this world, your art has to be monetised, too. The reason artists struggle is because people like the idea of getting art for free. That’s why we have billions of pirated movies, books and films, an entire chunk of the internet devoted to the theft of the creative works of creative people. Somehow, the idea that art and money shouldn’t be linked has pervaded every part of society, to the point where people believe musicians, artists, writers and actors should practically work for free. The better the art is, the more in-demand it is, and the more copyright laws surround it—in other words, the less its availability on the internet for free—means the greater the chance it will turn a profit, and people will actually hand over actual money in return for it. Otherwise, you might as well be working 8 hours at a job, and getting nothing to show for it except the “joy” and “creativity” of it. But will that feed you? No. 

Of course, this doesn’t mean I’ll start monetising my blog any-time soon. For one, it’s because the profit margin would be low, since it costs around $100 a year to monetise this blog in the first place, and from advertising revenue, at my current rate of daily views, I would only earn around $200 per annum. Still an extra $100, but why take the risk, when I’m only basing my earnings on an estimate? Two, the idea of paying my readers to read my content is abhorrent to me—I write because I love it, and I would never dream of asking my blog readers to have to fork over cash in order to have access to my words. Perhaps there’s still a little bit of the idealist left in me after all, despite all my growing up.

Of course, I have considered other ways of earning money through this blog. My Patreon page has been a reasonable success—I have been able to help several people with their INFP life problems (here is my Patreon page, if you’re interested: https://www.patreon.com/dreamerrambling) through phone calls, Skype messaging and emails, which has been very fulfilling for me, to the point where I’m almost considering turning it into a career, creating my own website and becoming a source of support and a counsellor for other INFPs and other people all over the world. Then again, I always feel guilty for taking people’s money, even though they give it to me out of the kindness of their heart, because I know not everyone who seeks out these services are wealthy, and they oftentimes are struggling themselves, which makes me want to give all my services for free (you cannot imagine how many emails I received when I first started this blog, asking for INFP advice) but then means I can’t eat or keep a roof over my head, which means I can’t help them, which means—

Yeah. You get the drift.

 

Money. It’s annoying, but we need it.

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Are INFPs “Nice”?

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Yes. For the most part, if you’re someone who is lovely and kind yourself, as most people who INFPs hang out with tend to be, we’re the kindest, nicest and sweetest people you will ever meet. The kind that kisses butterflies and sings babies to sleep—the kind that makes evil people hate us, the way the cold-hearted Queen loathed the gentle and pure-hearted Snow White, and less compassionate people wonder if there are truly angels in this world. In terms of purity and kindness, INFPs are peerless and unmatched.

But.

Yes, there is a “but”, in all this, and before I dive into what I’m about to say, I want to remind you of something. INFPs, every single one of us, were born into this world with a heart as a pure as starlight. Unfortunately, as happens to most people in this world, we grew up and realised other people and society were less kind, more cruel and darker, and in order to cope in a scary, frightening world, sometimes, even rabbits have to learn to bite wolves. Does this mean the rabbit has turned into something hard-core and carnivorous? No. The rabbit does it out of necessity—deep down, all the rabbit wants to do is gambol in fields and nibble on grass and sniff things. But because wolves exist, threatening the rabbit’s way of life, it has no choice but to arm itself, or else be eaten and devoured and suffer for a very long time before it dies.

Something strange happens when you throw a pure creature into a world of monsters: suddenly, the pure creature discovers a wellspring of power within themselves that they’d never known before and becomes a fighting force in their own right. In other words, INFPs are nice, but up to a point. There is always a line you can cross, no matter how much it takes to get to that line—the line always exists. No-one is without a line in their lives, or else they’d have no spine or backbone at all, and INFPs are anything but spineless. The first time you do something horrible to us—and for some reason, INFPs, especially when they are young, appear to be easy targets, probably because we exude vulnerability the way the sun does light—we can, sometimes, find it in our hearts to forgive you, especially if there’s a good reason for it e.g. a traumatic past or childhood, an unhappy family situation. The second time, however, is a different matter—the third time it happens, regardless of whether it’s the same person or not, we become a little jaded, a little more sour.

I’m not sure what happens when you cross an angel, but I imagine the anger of something pure is far more frightening than the fury of something evil. That is because good is always stronger than evil—and goodness angered, is a force to behold. Cross the line with an INFP (and usually this involves severely overstepping our values, like murdering a kitten with sadistic pleasure right before our eyes, or taking advantage of us in some irreparable way, like sexual assault, or hurting one of our family members), and you might as well have angered a clever rabbit who is able to detonate a series of human traps to capture an entire wolf’s clan.

Depending on our maturity, we’re not afraid to make sure people get their comeuppance, and this is far from the “nice” image some people have of INFPs, that’s we’re these soft, gentle creatures who would never dream of retaliation. No. That kind of “niceness” is only practised by very inexperienced and immature INFPs who haven’t realised that sometimes in this world justice needs to be served regardless of the consequences, because evil does exist and needs to be punished, or else it will continue to perpetuate and hurt others. While I won’t go into the details of how I’ve dealt with situations where people have severely crossed the line with me, I’ve always made sure to seek the power of the law and other authority figures and do whatever is in my power to rectify the situation and make sure the perpetrator doesn’t get away scot-free, happy as a daisy after causing destruction and ruination.

This is a lesson INFPs learn only as they grow older, which is that “niceness” is only useful when interacting with other nice people. When you’re dealing with cruel, cunning and evil people, “niceness” needs to go out the window, and be replaced by firm, implacable strength and a zeal for justice to be served. This is how INFPs become proponents and champions for underdogs and mistreated people, for the bullied, the disenfranchised, and the misfits. As J.K Rowling once mentioned in one of her Harry Potter novels, it is often those who seek power the least who most suited to leadership, and I believe INFPs fit in this category, in that, although we shy from the spotlight and don’t want to lead anybody or anything, sometimes, it’s necessary for us to take up the mantle of responsibility and lead ourselves or other people to salvation.

I’m a rabbit, leading my army of rabbits against the big, bad wolves, and with our wits and our hearts and our love for each other (and perhaps some guns and machetes, you know, just for a little extra bite to our entourage), no wolves will stand a chance in our way.

When INFPs Feel Like They Don’t Fit In

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I’ve always wondered what it would be like to go to university, to go to lectures, like a normal person, on their way to good things in life, to have a group of laughing, fun friends, to go to sushi bars and eat lunch after lectures, study in the library, have drinking games and parties where you steal kisses in bedrooms and get drunk. Go to nightclubs and restaurants, go ice-skating and shopping, holidaying to fantastic places with a boyfriend and friends, have a wardrobe filled with trendy clothing and lots of high-heels, a collection of perfumes, go to work everyday at a well-paying position earned from years of hard work and studying. To be “normal”.

I’m certain this is a feeling experienced by many INFPs, this feeling that we are just too different, that we don’t fit in with everyone else, regardless of the group we’re with. Partly this is because our lives can be on the more unconventional side—in my case, I left school early and decided to pursue a career as a fiction writer while working part-time jobs and figuring out my life; but I know INFPs who went to university but couldn’t find a job in their field and became non-profit organisation workers, volunteering their time and working side jobs; or became painters and solo artists; or realised their true calling lay far from what the education system could provide—and partly because we are inherently a little unconventional. We’re creative, and we’re different—in the eyes of other people, that’s code-word for “weird”. Our thoughts are too creative, too out-there, otherworldly, we feel too much, think too much, the list goes on and on…

So we’re constantly on the outside, looking in. Even if we fake it, pretend we like what others like, sports and the latest fashion, and pretend we’re just as normal and conventional as they are, we can never keep the act up, it simply uses up far too much of our energy. So we smile, and pretend, to keep the peace, then retreat into our own inner worlds, where everything is fantastical and perfect.

I wish I had a solution for this problem, but I don’t. I think, in the end, we’re a little bit tragic, because of who we are, in that we’re destined to never feel as though someone (except for maybe another INFP) truly understands and knows us, because we’re so strange and complicated sometimes.

It would be best, I think, if we could create our own world, somewhere on a planet far from here. A world filled with libraries, and staircases running this way and that, and cats and cups of tea galore, where rain always patters gently against the windows and fireplaces flicker with light and we are free to be as weird and kooky as we want to be.

Our imaginations and creativity, however, are a gift. Everything has an opposite, a positive and a negative; if we didn’t feel different from other people, we wouldn’t possess any originality or creativity, and if we didn’t have our imaginations, we wouldn’t be INFPs at all. And as someone who regularly visits imaginary worlds as part of her calling, I feel as though it’s a fair trade-off. I’d rather be strange and isolated, than unoriginal and empty. Perhaps this is my 4w5 Enneagram surfacing, but I honestly feel this way, I really do. If you asked me to give up my creativity so I could be normal like everyone else, and live the “high-life”, I’d tell you to take your Faustian bargain elsewhere, thank you very much.

So, cheer up: it’s hard to feel like you never fit, and having to always pretend, but there’s a place for us, I know it is, and it exists within our minds, within our hearts and our imaginations. It exists in the world between worlds, where everything is full of magic and adventure, where we get to go on rip-roaring crusades on flying pirate ships and devour the moon. And that’s all that matters.

What Kind Of Love Stories Do INFPs Like?

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Well, considering how much of a romantic INFPs are, I wouldn’t blame you if you believed INFPs love the sappy, romantic stories, where the prince rescues a girl, or those love-hate stories where two people hate each other, the sexual tension building, until they finally fall in love, or even those stories, to be a little more unconventional, where the maiden manages to rescue the man, and they fall in love and live happily ever after, walking off into the sunset.

No. While those stories are all nice and good, you forget we are quite creative people, and turned off by the banal and unconventional. No, no and double nope: the stories that appeal to us, the love stories which get our hearts aflutter, and put a big, dreamy smile on ours faces, are the kind that are special, unique, and yes, sometimes a little strange. Oftentimes they have a twist to them, or are particularly pure and innocent. Without further ado, here is a list of the kind of love stories INFPs like.

  1. When the love story does not take the centre stage.

What? Yes, you heard me right. We actually like stories, oftentimes adventurous, fantasy ones, filled with magic and intrigue, where the love story isn’t actually the centrepiece of the novel or film. In other words, we like it when love isn’t a character almost in itself because of the importance it plays in the work of art, simply because it’s different and goes against the grain of the endless parade of books and films where the love between two characters is the reason the movie exists in the first place (take Titanic, or Twilight, for instance). Instead, there are films like Princess Mononoke by Hayao Miyazaki (I’ll be referencing him a lot in this post, simply because he is my favourite filmmaker, and, from my interactions with INFPs and endless trawling through INFP forums, one of the most beloved film-makers of INFPs), where the romance is completely overshadowed by the greater plot of a group of people trying to slay a forest god and destroy an entire ecosystem. This is because, for INFPs, romantic as we are, love actually doesn’t play a central role in our lives—more of a sweet, peripheral role, because we are full of dreams, hopes and desires completely unrelated to the search for a mate.

  1. When the love is innocent and pure.

Too often, love stories are about passion, lust and sex. The characters barely know one another, if they were put in a room together for 24 hours they would soon get sick of each other, but put them in a dangerous situation, or in a bedroom, and suddenly, clothes are flying off like feathers from a bird and they’re kissing and everything is happening. It’s a little bit too much for INFPs, if I’m going to be honest with you, a little too much and a little bit unrealistic. Instead, when the love is the enduring kind, where they don’t just fall in love over the course of a day, but grow to understand and learn about each other, seeing each other’s good sides and bad sides— that’s when we truly “fall in love” with the love story. INFPs, although daydreams, can be extraordinarily picky about accuracy and realism when it comes to the books and films we consume—I bet that’s something you didn’t know about us! While I can’t think off the top of my head of such a story—maybe the Sound of Music love story between Maria and Captain Von Trapp?—I do know that such love stories are definitely a favourite of mine and other INFPs.

  1. When the female protagonist is brave, good and strong.

There are so many weak female protagonists in fiction and films, it’s simply unbelievable—so many women who need to be rescued, who fall into the arms of a rich men and stay safe in the shelter of his wealth, so many “transformations” where the heroine turns from an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan and the male lead suddenly falls in love with her, that it’s sickening. Do you know what men in real life are like? Most of them are not here to sweep us women off our feet, or buy us Chanel and Dior bags, or take the time to pay for expensive makeovers so that we can look more attractive—instead, they’ve got their own lives, their own problems, their own fears and worries and desires, just like you and me. They’re looking for a friend, someone to love and lean on, just as much as we are looking for those things. So it’s refreshing when a female protagonist in a love story is independent and strong. She doesn’t necessarily need to be a snarky, kick-ass protagonist—since when did strong equate with being extroverted?—but she must have a well of inner strength and power that makes her shine brighter than any glittery eyeshadow or sparkly blush ever could. Why do INFPs like such stories? Because we’re very strong people. Delicate on the outside, as hard as water on the inside (ever fall from a great height and smack onto a body of water? That’s as good as hitting a slab of concrete). We have to survive in a world that oftentimes doesn’t care about purity or morality, and somehow remain pure and moral in spite of that. We’re diamonds, darling, the un-cut kind, and we adore love stories where the female protagonists have an unbeatable gleam in their eye, and knows exactly how to sacrifice themselves to save the world.

  1. When the male love interest is a partner, an equal, not a shield or protector.

Us INFPs can protect ourselves. Because of our quiet and delicate natures, from an early age, we are often bullied, disparaged or taken advantage of. By the time we reach our adult years, we are in no way in the dark about the ugly sides of human nature or our own resilience and ability to withstand suffering. INFP women, if they’re mature, don’t need a man to shield them from the big, bad world. We know our own way through the woods. We don’t need (excuse me while I throw up) a shoulder to cry on and a good (and oftentimes muscular; if you read enough novels you’ll know what I mean) chest to lean on as we sob and cry, and for him to kiss away our tears and hold us close, like a fragile bird, and whisper, “I’ll always be here for you.” Bleurgh. Double bleurgh. We don’t need that. Maybe it comes from an unconscious distaste for the conventional, but us INFPs would feel so suffocated and unwell, to our very core, if that aforementioned scenario happened to us. Instead, we like love stories where the love interest doesn’t baby us, but instead is a good, solid friend almost, who gives us advice and believes in us and urges us to fight for our dreams. Not some male equivalent of a therapist and pillow in one.

  1. When the love story is funny.

Okay, so, yes, I don’t know many comedy-romance films or books, but surely there must be some out there, right? And yes, INFPs, we do need funny love stories in our lives because we’re so serious all the time. Seriously (ha, get what I did there?). INFPs are incredibly serious people: we take the environment seriously, we take our careers seriously, we take our passions seriously, we take our relationships seriously—heck, I even listen to music seriously, making sure I absorb the full sonic experience of every note properly, in the zone and in the moment, all the while imagining some film or book scene in my mind that fits the tune. Fact is, we need to lighten up sometimes, and there’s nothing that’s better for lifting one’s mood than a funny love story. You know, where the guy makes a fool of himself, or the girl goes through a wild and wacky series of events to find the love of her life. Many Korean and Chinese dramas are good at delivering these kinds of storylines. Point is, even though if you asked us, we’d say we didn’t like these love stories, we actually need these stories in our lives, which is why I put it on the list.

 

So there you go folks, a couple of types of love stories that INFPs love. Maybe next time you’re picking out a book or film for your INFP friend or significant other, you’ll keep some of these in mind as you make your choice. Of course, any love story, no matter how banal or bad, is better than no love story, or, worse, a horror movie, so feel free to give your INFP loved one whatever movie they like, as long as it’s fun, entertaining and imaginative. That’s all from me folks for today—see you in the next one!

Girls Bring The Boys Out!

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I’ve written quite a few posts on love and romance regarding the INFP personality type, but I haven’t really ever written anything about the INFP women themselves—in other words, while I’ve detailed what INFPs like or want in man, and the kinds of man they might marry, I haven’t yet talked about the kind of partners INFPs women will make. And a disclaimer: I apologise for writing from this only from an INFP woman’s standpoint, and not an INFP man’s point of view—that is because I am an INFP woman, and cannot comment on the romantic qualities of INFP men with accuracy. However, if you’re an INFP man and reading this, feel free to comment and let others know what qualities INFP men bring to a relationship! Second disclaimer: these thoughts and opinions are my own, based on my experiences and interactions with other INFPs and my in-depth understanding of myself; other INFPs may be different, and that’s okay, because we’re all unique. Now, without further ado, lets find what makes INFP women bring the boys out!

Well, to be honest with you, before I begin, the truth is, most INFP women are overlooked by men. Sure, we may be pretty, and lovely, and “sweet” (I loathe that word; I don’t like it when I’m referred to as “sweet”, it makes me feel so flimsy and powerless for some reason) and kind, but we often radiate a kind of “don’t-come-near-me” aura, or a “I’m-lost-in-the-clouds-and-can’t-see-you” type of personality aspect that makes men very wary to approach us (they’re intimidated, in short), and oftentimes, this is a smart move, because us INFPs, being sensitive, can be very particular about the appearance, personality and aura of the man we like. One wrong move, one wrong word or behaviour, or a certain lustful gleam in one’s eye, and we are out like a too-slow person in musical chairs. So finally, for real this time, without further do, these are the qualities INFPs can bring to a relationship, if you can manage to get to be with us (it’s not that we feel superior to men, it’s just that we’re very sensitive and picky and gentle creatures).

1. Intelligence.

We’re a very smart and intuitive bunch of people. That’s just a fact. So be prepared for someone who has the ability to occasionally read your mind, know when you’re telling a whooper, and can sense, with the accuracy and sensitivity of an otherworldly creature, if you’re cheating on us (or even thinking of cheating on us). Let me just put it out there: it’s not easy being with an INFP, because we will look deep into your soul, into the dark and light, and see whether we like what we see—or not, in which case, we will break up with you. Instantly. INFPs, once they’re mature and fully-evolved, never hold onto anything that is bad for them, or toxic. Take it from me. What’s more, we can tell, from a mile away, if you only love us for our appearance or for the opportunity to “get in our pants”, and such men we do not even revile, they’re so beneath our notice.

2. Possible disgust and contempt.

Did you hear me right? Disgust and contempt? INFPs bring disgust and contempt to a relationship? What in tarnation do you mean, Anne? Well, what I’m trying to say is, the slightest thing, since INFPs are so sensitive, can trigger disgust or contempt for a person in an INFP. Let me give you an example. I once dated a guy who decided that the best way to get me “sexually attracted” to him was to go on and on about how much money he was capable of earning. This rubbed me the wrong way. In fact, it made me feel physically ill: he was lecherous, and greedy, and money-grubbing, and all-round entirely horrible. Suffice to say, I didn’t like him very much, and soon broke off the engagement. Likewise, if we can tell that you’re not the type of person to risk yourself to save, for example, a child, or don’t have it in you to make the moral, good choice when the time comes (and trust me when I say we can tell, even if the situation never arises), then we’re not going to be interested in you. Period. In fact, no matter how rich or handsome you are, we will be turned off. INFPs are angelic and pure creatures—we’re the closest thing to a completely kind human being that exists on this planet, and if you don’t measure up to our barometers for purity, morality and kindness, if we so much as catch a whiff of poison or evil in you, then you’re out.

3. Devotion.

If it so happens that you’re attractive to us, both physically and mentally, that you’re kind and pure, and we happen to actually fall in love with you, and our heartstrings actually get entangled with your heartstrings, then, let’s face it, you might as well have made a loyal friend for life. I cannot stress this enough: once INFPs are in, we’re in. We are highly loyal creatures, and our love, the strength of our hearts, knows no bounds. We will be your life partner, we will stand by you, whether lightning or sunshine strikes the sky, and you will never, not on this entire earth, find someone more devoted or caring. This doesn’t mean we’ll be submissive or subservient—devotion doesn’t necessarily entail us being a doormat—but instead, it means, although we retain our independent lives and identities, our existence becomes irrevocably tied to yours, and we would, if necessary, give up our life for you.

4. Have a love for anything exciting or fun.

By “fun” we don’t mean clubbing and waking up with a hangover the next day, or visiting places all around the world; instead, what I’m talking about is the consumption of fiction. Reality is boring. Fantasy is where the good stuff is—where we enjoy ourselves the most, live lives we could have never dreamed of living, be people we could never possibly be in real life; and if, somehow, you share this love for excitement and fun, or better yet, if you provide it, by gifting us our favourite books or movies (without the intention of getting us to fall in love with you; INFPs are immune to bribery), then we’re pretty much going to like you very much. By gifting us books and movies in the genre we love, you are essentially giving us pieces of magic and showing you care and understand us, and if that isn’t swoon-worthy, then nothing is.

5. Be unique.

INFPs are special, in the truest sense of the word; we retain our childlike wonder, have fantasy worlds bursting inside our heads, love animals, are kind to a fault. We are special. Of course, all personality types are special in their own way, but there’s something unique about INFPs. We’re like butterflies: beautiful to behold, fragile to the touch, and incredibly sensitive. Without us, the world would be a much darker and boring place; in a way, we’re almost like creatures of light, dispelling darkness wherever we go. So, by the same token, it helps if you’re quite a creative and unique person yourself, such as a filmmaker, or a writer, or an artist, or a children’s book illustrator, or a painter, etc. Creative types tend to gravitate towards other creative types, because imaginations blossom when they’re closer to other imaginations; and if I had to marry someone, in an ideal world, it would be the illustrator of the pictures and front cover of my future books.

 

So that’s it, so far (I might make a part 2, depending on the reception of this post) of my list of things INFPs might bring to a potential relationship. It takes a special kind of person to love and be with an INFP, and oftentimes, INFP women never find someone who loves them as much as their father or brother loves or loved them. Although we are quite happy on our own, and find solace in being a part of the universe, it’s good to have someone around, to lean one’s head on someone’s shoulder and feel safe and protected. If you’re interested in an INFP women, keeps these 5 points about what INFPs bring to a relationship in mind, so that you’re properly prepared for and aware of what you’re really getting into.

What Makes Other Personality Intimidated By INFPs

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Let’s face it, we’re not exactly the intimidating type, at least by traditional measures, are we? We are gentle, daydreamy, airy-fairy creatures who love animals, books and nature, and would never hurt a fly. Nevertheless, there are certain aspects to an INFP’s personality, depending on how mature and well-developed as a person they are, that make us intimidating to other personality types who may not possess the traits, talents or abilities that we do. Oftentimes, these traits have nothing to do with physical size or beauty (although I’m sure there are lots of beautiful-looking and comely INFPs out there in this world) or wealth or social status, or anything superficial that does not last longer than the breath of a wind, things which others, traditionally, found intimidating when other people possessed them.

In fact, in alignment with our personalities, INFPs tend to be quite slender and small creatures, like delicate will-o-the-wisps, rather ordinary but ethereal looking (our eyes always have this distinct, faraway look to them, as if they are viewing other worlds beyond our own—and they often are), have low social status because we don’t care about flashy cars or mansions, and be often times quite poor, because we’re starving artists living in garrets or with our parents, trying to eke out a living from our craft while holding down low-paying part-time jobs. Nevertheless, the aura of INFPs is a unique and distinct one, and while in the presence of it, and all our other marvellous traits, people can find themselves rather intimidated and awed. So, without further ado, here are some things that make other personality types intimidated by INFPs.

1. Our creativity and imagination.

When it comes to imagination and creativity, our skill set in this department knows no bounds. We are naturally inventive people, capable of works of art, be it books or short stories or paintings or sketches or songs, and often times, displays of this talent can awe and intimidate others, because the have no idea how a person could have dreamt it up. This is a natural ability of INFPs, to create and be creative, and something we are very, very proud of.

2. Our kindness.

INFPs are the kind of people to stop whatever they are doing, even if it is rather important, and save an ant about to drown in a puddle of water by using a stick to help it out. Our respect for nature, for all living creatures and humans, and our compassion and desire to help them, is unparalleled. We are kind, down to our very core, and for those who are less kind, whose hearts are colder and darker, we present as bursts of sunshine that hurt their eyes, and which causes them to feel great resentment towards us, and yes, be intimidated by us. When evil is met with purity, it cannot help, on some level, but be cowed, knowing that it is witnessing and in the presence of something they could, not in a million years, ever achieve.

3. Our insight.

We are good at reading people, situations and social dynamics. It’s just a natural ability of ours, like creativity or the ability to imagine all sorts of interesting and eccentric things. This can completely floor people—”how do you know that?”, they ask, wondering how we were able to pinpoint something about them, such as a personality trait or foible, in just one glance. With one look, one conversation, we can easily determine the character of a person, sometimes their hopes and desires, even their deepest, darkest thoughts (which is not necessarily a good thing, depending on the person in question; such thoughts, if exceedingly dark, can harm an INFP’s psyche quite badly). I used to think everyone noticed the things I did, felt the same discomfort I did around certain people, but the truth is, other personality types, while smart, can be less observant and intuitive when it comes to judging a person’s personality and character, their dreams, hopes and desires. It’s why we make great counsellors, and good mediators, and why it is very, very hard to lie to an INFP (sorry, but we’ll just see right through it).

4. Our daydreamy natures.
Sometimes, INFPs don’t seem like they come from this world; they’re too wishy-washy and full of daydreams, as if, at any moment, they could lift up from the ground and float away like a dandelion seed. To other people, if an INFP shows their true self, we can seem like aliens, come from another planet (which is, quite frankly, how we oftentimes feel). But this part of us can intimidate some people, as our ethereal personalities and natures are foreign to them, and can make them wary, if not outright hostile, towards us. Anything unfamiliar is often met with hostility, and I have lost count of how many times a stranger took one look at the otherworldly, ethereal gleam in my eye and treated me with a certain cautiousness and distrust.
5. Our purity.

I kind of dedicated an entire post to this (see this week’s posts), on how, as an INFP, I am naturally quite a pure-hearted person, so there’s no need to go through that again; but I must add, in accordance with the subject matter of this post, that this is another reason why some find INFPs rather intimidating. We are governed by strong morals and a very powerful, accurate inner moral compass in our everyday actions, thoughts and dealings with people, and that can turn some people off, simply because we make them look bad and sordid in comparison. While others would not hesitate, for instance, to fight over designer handbags in a store during a huge sale, INFPs, being too pure to be materialistic, are more often than not going to be in a corner somewhere with her nose buried in a book, and this blatant show of purity and lack of materialism tends to rub people the wrong way. Losing friends over being too pure or good for them is no matter to us—we’re perfectly fine and happy with our own company and imaginations, which brings me to my next point…

6. We’re astonishingly independent.

Once our living expenses are met, with a cat and a home library thrown in, we can live quite happily ever after entirely absorbed in books and creative pursuits, with little need for human interaction, affection or even love. That’s because we’re oftentimes very in touch with our Creator, rarely feel lonely because we’re always connected to the universe and nature, and find great solace and company in imaginary characters inside films, books and TV shows. Sure, having people around you is nice, and INFPs, while introverted, can feel very warmly towards other people; but for us, nothing beats being alone, by ourselves, lost in a fantasy world. If this independence makes some people jealous, or frightens them off, then it’s their loss—we’re not going to be affected by it, at the very least, because we’ll be too busy enjoying the company of ourselves and other imaginary characters.

7. We’re happy.

Being in touch with the universe and nature, and having creative passions, means that we are oftentimes very, very happy people. Of course, like with all types, depression can hit, and when it does, it’s very bad—but even when we’re depressed, we’re secretly very happy too, because it’s all so dreary and dramatic and fun. Tragedies and comedies might play out across our lives, but either will be equally welcomed, because INFPs love life itself, and anything that is a part of it, be it good or bad, is an object of curiosity, to be analysed and understood and enjoyed. The trick to true happiness is to view everything with wonder and curiosity, and that is just what INFPs do, every single day, every single minute and every single second of our lives.

What Makes An INFP Feel Contempt?

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Contempt. It’s a powerful emotion, suggesting the person feeling it has a certain superiority over another. However, there are times when contempt, the feeling that someone is beneath you, is necessary and justified. When faced with certain people, and certain situations, an INFP, pure of heart and soul, can sometimes feel nothing but contempt.

Over the course of life, we meet many contemptible people. These people, often, are those who care only about themselves, who don’t, to put it crudely, “give a shit” about anything other than their own comfort, desires, whims, safety and well-being. These people are despicable. To an INFP, they are disgusting.

Perhaps some examples are in order.

Take someone who is a billionaire, and instead of spreading the wealth among the masses, building infrastructure and schools and hospitals to benefit humanity, or use it to help heal the environment by planting trees and suchlike, they hoard it all for themselves, for their own families and friends, to buy pleasures and toys and holidays. That, to any INFP, would be contemptible. In the eyes of God, I am sure they are sinning, on a very great scale. But this kind of contemptible behaviour is not limited to those who are billionaires—ordinary, everyday people, who are reasonably well-off and middle-class, are guilty of this, too, in that they only care about themselves and their own social circle, about accumulating more wealth and safety and security for themselves, in a snatching, miserly kind of way, that it blinds them to others’ suffering. They choose relationships based on benefit, and feel good when they “collect” things, like beautiful children with good grades or a good home, or nice bags and shoes. In my opinion, a lot of INFPs would find this behaviour contemptible.

Then there are those who fail to see the value of other people and every person who spends their time working for the benefit of others on this planet. Those who look down on cleaners, or age care workers, simply because they do low-status or “dirty” jobs, make INFPs feel disgusted, because we know, deep down, that these people are hard-working, unsung heroes, oftentimes worth a thousand of those polished, shiny CEOs who spend their days living off the hard work of others and granting themselves huge salaries, like a well-fed cat on a pile of canaries. Such people are blind: they fail to see that the true worth of someone isn’t their paycheck, or the supposed “status” of their job, but the person they are, the kindness and trueness of their heart.

Cowards are contemptible. It’s okay to be scared. It’s normal. But when it comes to crunch time, that’s often when people’s true characters reveal themselves: are you someone who will push someone else in the path of danger, so as to save your own skin? Would you lock the door to someone at risk of dying or being killed, if it means you get to be safer? When someone is at their lowest ebb, starving or dying of thirst, are you the kind of person to give to them with love and compassion, or to turn your nose up and walk away? When people really need you, are you there for them, or, because it might be a little risky, or your reputation is at stake, you turn away? If someone is in danger, would you do everything in your power to try and save them, out of the goodness of your heart, even at risk to yourself? Are you able to slaughter an innocent animal, deliver the death blow, and eat the meat without it leaving a bad taste in your mouth? All these situations showcase the true colours of your heart—and if you choose the cowardly path each time, the loveless path, the selfish one, where your own life and feelings and reputation and safety and health is of the only importance in this world, and you’re too afraid of getting cut to save someone from being killed, then you’re someone INFPs find contemptible.

For those who are weak, and easily pushed around, more mature INFPs will also find them contemptible for not having a backbone. “Tough” INFPs (see my previous posts) are often a little disgusted when someone lets themselves be hurt, pushed around, bullied and antagonised by other people without putting up a fight or speaking up or striking in self-defence. The only way to fight evil, is to be stronger and smarter than it. Of course, in the end, God is the only one who can truly save us from evil—but everyday, we have the choice to face small or big acts of evil head-on, with our own spirit and power, rather than cower and swallow the pain, like poison in our mouths. The same goes for those who witness evil happen to other people, but don’t do anything about it: that’s just as contemptible as committing the evil yourself, because being a bystander makes you an accomplice, a kind of second perpetrator.

Those who contradict themselves, who are hypocrites, are also contemptible. They are leading false lives, showing facades, when, in reality, their true beliefs and actions do not mirror their words, and all they have, at the end of the day, are false promises. People who relish others’ suffering are not just contemptible—they are worthless, trash. They are not human. Their hearts are as dark as pitch.

Those who don’t respect nature are contemptible, if not stupid. To be disconnected from nature, to not love nature, the trees and the bees and the flowers, is to be disconnected from yourself, God and the universe; you see yourself as separate from everything, and everything as dollar signs, banknotes, resources to be plundered, instead of the marvellous blessings and gifts that they are.

Individuals who lack self-awareness can sometimes be contemptible in the eyes of INFPs, because INFPs can be incredibly self-aware, and we have a hard time understanding how someone could be so blind to the evil within them or around them. Sometimes, although we might not admit it, those who don’t realise they’re being taken advantage or that the people that they call their “friends” and “family” are truly horrible people are sometimes viewed as idiots in our eyes. Our intuition is incredibly highly-developed, and we simply cannot understand how someone could be so thick, so blind. This is a fault, and perhaps a sin, of INFPs, because people’s’ intuition and inner compasses are not always perfectly developed and as advanced as ours, just like our ability to physically fight or speak in public are not as well-formed as other personality types. This is something we need to work on—it’s easy for the sensitive to treat the less-sensitive with contempt, and is a failure of the INFP heart which needs to be rectified.

Just like with all feelings, we feel contempt very deeply, and those who are at the receiving end of our contempt are almost always those who deserve it, because what we find contemptible is what is, objectively, evil, callous and unkind. But we mustn’t forgot that karma is real, and that those who hurt others truly hurt themselves the most in the end, so there’s no need to feel bitter about all the evil that happens in the world; and justice, sooner or later, whether in this realm or the next, is always served. Try not to incur the contempt of an INFP, the childlike dreamers and angelic warriors of this world, because there is nothing more terrible and powerful than the anger of someone pure and good.

How To Win An INFP’s Heart

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Over the years, I have received a lot of messages from men asking about how to win over INFP women (although, strangely enough, not the other way around; is that part of the discrimination INFP men feel in this world? Sad.) and have decided, at last, to dedicate an entire post to this matter. A disclaimer: while I profess to be quite the quintessential INFP, I am still only one INFP, and what works for one INFP woman or man may not work for another, as all INFPs, despite our shared psychological functions, are unique, individual people, who have grown up against different backdrops and in various backgrounds. So, without further ado, here are some ways to win an INFP’s heart.

1. Not be evil.

This is kind of a given, because the INFP you have sitting in front of you or floating around in your life, I guarantee, has quite a pure and angelic heart, and if, morally, you are not on the same level, they are unlikely to feel warmly towards you, let alone be attracted to you. We do not like evil. We do not like unkindness, coldness, superiority complexes, hardness or cruelty, something which many people in the world have in spades. Therefore, if you want to win an INFP’s heart, the first step is to be a genuinely good person, in and out. The kind of guy or gal who loves dogs and cries at a little at the suffering of others, you know what I mean? Those kind of men and women are the types of people us INFPs adore. If you’re a little cruel, a little harsh around the edges, then you’re only option is to change and do a 180° transformation, because no evil is going to live in the men or women we date.

2. Be romantic.

Ha. I know what you’re thinking. Hey, I’m romantic. I’m very romantic, my dear lady. No, you’re not. I can guarantee you’re not romantic enough. You see, I think you just don’t get it. We INFP’s don’t just want everyday romance. We are romantics, idealists, we live and breathe romance, and consume enough romantic fiction for nearly no human being to be able to possibly match up to our expectations. You need to treat romance as an Olympic sport. You need to be creative, to be original (more on that later). Instead of treating her to a candlelit dinner and some roses, write her a beautiful song completely dedicated to her and sing and play it to her on your guitar (provided you have the talent, of course) or leave a trail of candy, like in the story Hansel and Gretel (INFPs love fairytales! She’ll adore this) all the way to a little gingerbread house you baked, and inside, hidden within the biscuit house, is a small note or poem dedicated to them. Or a little miniature witch and her cauldron—really, it doesn’t matter, as long as it is creative. You need to up your game, mate.

3. Be a creative and original person.

Are you a follower? Are you conventional? Do you have none of your own thoughts, and not a single original bone in your body? Then, sorry, we will not be interested in you. It might sound harsh, but it’s just facts. INFPs are creative people—we are often artists or writers—and if you don’t have that same creative streak in you, it’s very hard for us to love you, very hard indeed. We dislike those who swim with the current, and adore those who swim against it, idealising and deeply admiring those who challenge the status quo. If you’re not an original person, not creative, I would wonder why you are pursuing an INFP in the first place, and why you love her, because one of the things INFPs love to be loved and admired for is their creativity.

4. Be a deep thinker and be complex.

You can’t be an airhead. You have to be a complex, deep sort of person, the kind who can chat with her or him late at night about stars and the universe and personality and men and women and the meaning of life. You must be able to keep up with her or him. Our thoughts can be expansive as the universe. We are so incredibly connected with the Consciousness behind everything, and Mother Nature, and invested in being the best human being we can be, that if you’re not just as complicated and fascinating, you won’t have our interest for long. Ooh, you know what would be a real doozy, that would any INFP definitely interested in you? If you have a tragic past. And therefore have some personality flaws because of that. Us INFPs LOVE wounded, complex people, because it tugs on our heartstrings, and oftentimes, this is the spark that can lead to love. Be a deep, wounded, complex man or woman, and you’ve got it made. But be genuine. Fake something, lie about something, and you might as well break up with him or her forever.

5. Have an intense dislike for disingenuous people.

When people say it’s good to have similar interests to your partner, they’re probably not talking about this—that you should have a shared dislike for disingenuity. INFPs are perceptive creatures, and can sniff out when someone is being disingenuous from fifty miles away. We absolutely hate suck-ups, or people who take advantage of other people, or those who trample on the weak and innocent on their path to riches, fame or success, and if you loathe the same thing, we are, you know, kind of on the same side, and that can create a bond like nothing else. The same goes for you—if you want to attract an INFP, be a genuine person, not fake and simpering, and not only after stupid things like sex and money.

6. Be able to withstand a tempestuous personality.

On the outside, especially to strangers, us INFPs can seem quite shy, delicate and sweet. We’re not. We’re more like silent warriors, whose sword is the pen and whose hearts can shine brighter than the Fourth of July. Our emotions, in addition, are incredibly powerful, and we can be furious, joyous, depressed and wistful all in the same breath. We are complex people, and can flash like summer storms. Be ready to face this part of us, and to love and accept it, if you truly love us and want to chase after us, because if you can’t handle us, we’re perfectly fine on our own, without you.

7. Be wise and brave.

INFPs love wisdom. In many ways, you should have a certain fatherly or brotherly air about you, because this not only makes us feel safe, we also feel as if we can turn to you, like sunflowers towards the sun, for help. Be wise, be brave, be sure, be strong, be capable of holding up the sun and the stars for the right cause, and we will give you our love in return. There’s nothing we hate more than cowards, or people lacking in compassion. Our hearts are like tiny, multi-coloured universes, and we are brave and compassionate people, who have grown up on a diet of books filled with brave and compassionate characters fighting against evil, been taught by the likes of Harry Potter and Katniss Everdeen to be the person we are today. Don’t disappoint us; sourpusses, people who resent others for their success or their creative talent or their happiness, cowardly people who don’t dare to stand up for what is right and true, do not interest us.

8. Be innocent.

Innocent people are kind. Us INFPs love innocent, simple (but not necessarily unwise) men and women, who are kind down to the very depths of their soul. You know this kind of person. They just don’t have a single mean bone in their body. Half the time, they don’t even realise evil is staring at them in the face until it’s before them, that’s how innocent they are. We love these kinds of men and women, and fall in love with them, because we feel the need to protect them and a kinship with them. Nothing makes us fall in love with someone more than kindness. Let me repeat that. Nothing makes an INFP fall in love with someone more than a kind heart. So be innocent, kind, brave, strong, pure and wise, different, and you’ve got a chance at stealing away our heart.

When An INFP Turns Dark

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At some point in time, and if enough negative events occur, an INFP (Introverted, Intuition, Feeling and Perceiving personality type—see the Myer-Briggs test for more information) becomes tougher, and hardened. No longer are we gentle and delicate flowers, billowing in the wind; instead, we become battle-hardened soldiers, raging against the war and the deceit and the corruption that occur in our lives and the lives of our loved ones on a daily basis.

Eventually, if enough bad things happen to a creature of light, it becomes stronger and even brighter, even more ferocious and terrible in its own beauty and strength. That is the truth of the matter. After being churned and burned in the crucible of suffering, what surfaces from the clay pot is something not entirely human, something strong and blindingly brave and powerful. That is what happens when you push an INFP too far, bully them too much, when you heap hatred and pain and disgust and self-loathing on an INFP, the most delicate of all the Myer-Briggs types, until he or she crumples, nearly dies, but re-surfaces, stronger than ever.

I feel as though this transformation has started ever since I entered my twenties. I am twenty-one, and suddenly, one day, it was as if a light bulb switched on inside my brain, and I realised, with the kind of blinding flash reserved only for epiphanies, that all my life, I had been the doormat, the sidekick, the person trying to appease other people, to make amends, to shrink and grovel and kneel and bend. This was because, as a child, I was abused and frightened by my father. As I grew older, I was sexually harassed, bullied, put down and overall heaped with piles and piles of stinking negativity. All of this grew into a morass, a cesspit, of hatred and self-loathing, until one day, I couldn’t bear it anymore, and “cut off my hair”, so to speak, in the way Mulan transformed from an ordinary woman into warrior in the famous Chinese tale, and became the shining beacon of strength I am today.

I am an INFP who takes no amount of ridicule, hatred, bullying or sycophantic grovelling from anyone. I might have a pure heart, as all INFPs do, but my heart has been scorched and fired in the ovens of life, and become hardened as steel, as titanium. If anyone dares to cross my path and try to push me underneath their thumb, squash me like a bug, I fight back, biting them with as much strength as I can possibly muster, because I know I am worth fighting for. I am the princess whose prince never came, who realised, in the end, that she would have to find a way to be happy on her own, surrounded by books and stories and daydreams. While I do not have the courage to fight dragons myself—no INFP is brave enough to do that—I am clever and intuitive enough to understand the dragon, and begin devising a plan to outsmart it. For INFPs, once we turn a little to the dark side, never return—we become forever shadowed angels, lurking in the lines in between dark and light.

Perhaps if I grew up in a different world, with different people, perhaps if I hadn’t been subject to so much jealousy, hatred, and bullying in my childhood and teenage years, I wouldn’t have turned out the way I did, tough and merciless to those who dare to try and put me down. But it didn’t happen that way. I did grow up in a world where people think they can treat other people like trash, if they want to. I grew up in a world where murder, rape and other countless terrible crimes exist. I grew up in a world where people around me were unkind, self-serving and selfish, and while that hasn’t made me more of a selfish person, it has made me more careful of who I help, because those that I help won’t necessarily help me in return, if our positions were reversed.

I am a girl whose father left and abandoned her. The impact of this is incredibly immense, because the love, comfort and protection of a father is something that has a huge effect on how a young woman sees and views herself, and her sense of security in an oftentimes unstable world. Because I grew up on shaky ground, I had to become my own foundation. Unfortunately, this meant I had to shed my idealism and naivety a little, and realise that, in this world, most people’s hearts are quite selfish and dark, and that most people, when given the choice between what is right and what is wrong, can be persuaded to shift to the dark side with an extra bribery of cash or the promise of fulfilled dreams. I am in no way in a state of idealism regarding the nature of some people’s hearts and personalities: the truth is, there are people out there who have no idea who they are, and because of that, they hurt others; there are those out there who do not appreciate art, or music, or dancing; there are those that trample on the bodies of others to get to the top of the pile, where the pickings are the greatest; and there are those who torture animals and people, just for the sheer pleasure of it.

Here is the truth: when something or someone as delicate and intrinsically good as an INFP encounters evil, there are two ways we can deal with it: one, we cower in fear, and die, perishing because we were too weak to fight back; or two, we must transform into something ferocious, and sometimes a little strange and ugly, in order to defeat and be stronger than the evil we are fighting against in the first place. In the end, my strength comes not from myself, necessarily, but my love for life, for all things created in this world, and for God, who leads me and guides me each and everyday, bestowing the kind of unconditional love nearly no person on the planet, except for maybe mothers, are able to give.

Do not be afraid of what you transform into in order to adapt to and fit in with this world, or to protect or save yourself. Transformations, when it comes to INFPs, is a good thing: we need to change, and grow, in order to keep up with everyone else, who were born with hard shells already. Let me give you an example, of an INFP turning to the dark side: it’s of a young woman, who sees her entire family killed before her very eyes, only to escape unscathed herself. For the rest of her life, she makes it her mission to hunt down those who killed her family and others like her, and once she gets them in her grasp, she manages to mercifully kill them, without shedding a tear, because she knows, deep in her heart, that that is what they deserve. Of course, that is an extreme example, but bear in mind, there is nothing as frightening as INFP turned to the dark side. With our acumen, our laser-like ability to read situations and people, it is easy for us to have the upper-hand in social situations, and once we discover our power, we can wield it for the greater good, to help punish those who dare to hurt the weak and vulnerable.

Interview With The MBTI Types

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I’m listening to Taylor Swift’s “Girl At Home” as I try to formulate a proper blog post. For some reason, none of my writing seems to be measuring up lately; it’s as if all of my work has been going through a deadly drought, and all of the words inside of my have withered and died.

I feel as though I should have developed something by now, a “voice” in my writing, or had a book or two published, or learned something grand and marvellous about life and the universe, whereas the reality of the situation is I feel empty and full of absolutely nothing. I go to the library before work, inwardly lament over the fact that I have to go to a job I do not like, then spend the rest of the day trying to reconcile myself to the horribleness of my job and the long commute back home, then get home and collapse onto my bed and fall asleep. I barely get any energy and time for writing except during the long commutes, during which I often get dizzy because of motion-sickness. Nothing I write feel as though it comes from the heart anymore—everything feels forced and bland. I don’t know if I’m even making much sense anymore.

To make up for all this negativity, I have decided to compile a list of reactions the different personality types have to the INFP personality type—imagine it as an interview, where each MBTI type gets asked the same question: “What do you think of the INFP personality type?” Each type then answers according to his or her personality; I tried my best to incorporate some of the “voices” of the particular personality types, such as making the sentences spoken by the more logical types more crisp and short, the creative types using more flowery language, etc. Hope you like it!

INFP

“Well, I think we are a good personality type to be around, although we tend to be daydreamers and can be quite messy at times, not to mention not very good at talking to people we have crushes on. We’re also more prone to creativity than actual IQ or intelligence. What do you mean, I need to be less modest?”

INTJ

“They’re alright. They’re quite clever and creative—very good at writing those little stories of theirs, or imagining scenarios—but they’re a little too impractical for me.”

INTP

“I love INFPs. We got along tremendously well. Like, for instance, the other day, I was talking with another INFP and we both spoke at length about how we both loved glow-in-the-dark jellyfish. Isn’t that marvellous? Who doesn’t like glow-in-the-dark jellyfish?”

ENTJ

“They’re good enough. Creative. Very good at writing. Not logical. If they had more logic, then they wouldn’t get into the messes they get into.”

ENTP

“Yeah, what’s not to like about the little daisies. Quite charming and adorable. Such daydreamers, got their heads up in their clouds all day and dancing with the angels. Would I ever fall in love with one, though? Hmm, not a chance.”

INFJ

“INFPs are very nice. Creative and smart. They’re good. Yes. Good.”

ENFJ

“To be honest, I don’t really understand them, they spend all their time by themselves or with books or watching films, and seem to like the company of animals more than they do people! And to not like going to parties, or hanging out with other people, well, that’s a bit weird, don’t you think? At least they’re quite smart and creative.”

ENFP

“I adore INFPs! They’re absolutely wonderful, magnificent people. Full of life, of imagination and ideals—although if they’d just do a bit of work in turning their dreams into a reality, that would certainly make things much easier for them!”

ISTJ

“INFPs and I do not get along. They are far too wishy-washy and impractical for my tastes. And the mess! Do not get me started on the mess.”

ISFJ

“I do really like INFPs. I feel quite protective of them—they seem like such delicate, sweet souls, who need some shelter from the harsh elements of the world.”

ESTJ

“I like INFPs. They are smart and creative. Although they could do with a bit of help on the practicality front.”

ESFJ

“INFPs are the best. Well, it’s hard for me to hate any personality type, so there’s that. I think they’re very smart, creative and deep thinkers. They just know a lot about themselves and the world around them. They’re quite unconventional, too—you won’t find them doing things the same way others do, and I like that a lot about them.”

ISTP

“Don’t understand them one bit. Got their head stuck up in the clouds all day. Bit of a crybaby. ‘Nup, not my cup of tea.”

ISFP

“INFPs are sweet, they really are. They’re such daydreamers, and full of such great ideas, they’re so creative and I love that. It’s really fun to bounce ideas around with them.”

ESTP

“INFPs? Who are they?”

ESFP

“INFPs are fine. A little quiet, though, for my tastes. Actually, it’s hard for me to notice them much, I’m often too busy dancing in the limelight.”