The Types Of Men An INFP Woman Might Marry

couple marriage

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Yes, yes, I know, O, maiden, thou does not need a man to complete thy life – and it seems a little ironic, to say the least, to write this after recently taking a vow of celibacy – but just because I have decided not to get into any relationships doesn’t mean I can’t speculate on the various types of people who might be suitable romantic candidates, which I shall detail in this post, and whom, I might add, are, as of yet, entirely the products of my imagination. Which accounts for the vow of celibacy, I suppose.

For those of you idealistic, sensitive men out there, and my heart does go out to you for your continued survival in a conformist society that tries to mold men into masculine archetypes – please feel free to change the gender of the following types of individuals to that of Female, or Male, depending on your preferences.

The Sensitive Artist

Marrying the Sensitive Artist, with his deep, soulful eyes and melancholy outlook on life, is sure to be rewarding – especially if he lives in a dingy attic that overlooks other rooftops in a romantic city, like, say, Paris.

The two of you can spend twilight evenings walking down the boulevards, past quaint cafes with green awnings and golden lights flickering behind the windows, other strolling couples, the odd bicycle rider passing by in a tinkle of bells, having deep, philosophical conversations.

Back at his “studio”, the prints cluttering the walls and the floor resembling multi-coloured puked-up guts can offer plenty of fodder for further philosophical thought – as an INFP, you are sure to discover the meaning of life in a splotch of red and green paint, or uncover a fantastical scene in something that looks like a dog’s breakfast after it has been partly digested. Your rapture at his artistic talent will satisfy him greatly.

In return, he will listen to your deepest desires and dreams, understand the despair you feel towards life and the world, and refer to you as his “Muse”, which you will brush off with an embarrassed air, smiling shyly, but secretly feel very pleased about. However, be prepared to pay for meals and other necessities while with him, and, when the man racks up hundreds of dollars in debt buying new easels and paint tubes, remain uncomplaining as you scrawl your signature onto the bill handed to you by the delivery man at the door.

Who knows: Through your experience with the Sensitive Artist, perhaps you will learn something new: that your INFP nonchalance towards money was wrong, and that no matter how “deep” a partner is, sometimes the depths of his pockets is a little more important.

The Good, Caring, Responsible Man

What INFPs need most of all from other people, and which they very rarely receive, is kindness; and this man is bound to provide this scarce resource in abundance.

He will care for you, just as if you were his own flesh and blood, treating you as the fragile, little creature you are: Helping you with real-world tasks, like filing for a savings account at the bank or getting your car registered; comforting you in the middle of the night when you start crying remembering something horrible you said to someone last year; and he will never berate you for being “too sensitive”, or “too quiet.”

No matter what happens to you in the outside world you can have the comfort of always returning to someone who will tell you that he loves you, and cooks you nice, warm meals to show you that he cares. Unfortunately, though he will be smart enough to work as a system’s manager at his accounting firm, chances are he will not possess a drop of imagination, and bore you to bits. In which case, you will have to decide which is more important: having your own equivalent of a talking pillow to soothe you after being battered by the vagaries of life, or someone you can intellectually connect with.

Intellectual stimulation is simple to obtain on your own, in the form of books and, well, more books, so perhaps it would be nice just to settle for someone who cares. Then again, books are fine company on their own, and, unlike this particular breed of the male species, never become too smothering.

The Executive

The Executive is assertive, confident, and bold – in other words, the ENTJ Myer-Briggs Personality type, who values rules, systems, actions and logic, and is the antithesis of the INFP personality type.

Isabel, creator of the Myer-Briggs Personality Type Test, however, has proclaimed the Executive to be the most compatible with the Dreamers. Though I have yet to completely puzzle out her reasoning – the two personalities could not be any more different – nevertheless, it does not require too great a leap of the imagination to envision the Executive being charmed by the INFP’s air of mysterious shyness, and the INFP attracted to the Executive’s boldness and social ease. After all, we often admire what we lack in ourselves, and opposites, as they say, do attract.

In this relationship, regardless of what gender you are, who the dominant partner is clearly defined. You will always have someone to tug you down from the clouds back to earth  with his rational thought processes, thereby helping you to take action rather than daydream your life away; but be prepared, as he is a predominantly logical thinking, to sometimes have your feelings trampled over, and to pick up your battered heart from the floor at the end of a long day.  On the other hand, expect good conversations, as both of you, being intuitive, will probably enjoying imagining the future together, and developing long-term plans.  You will also not have to worry about having your bank account drained, as this type of man is often quite successful in the career, usually opting to work in lucrative fields such as business.

Ultimately, he will be appear powerful and dynamic – captivating, even – but this relationship is liable to go down in flames unless either he grows a little more sensitive to your feelings, or you grow a little tougher in order to withstand his constructive criticism. Still, it can be the basis for a good partnership, and you may even find yourself peeping a little more out of your shell due to his influence, growing a tougher exoskeleton – but, if I were you, I’d stick with the books for less heartache in the long run.

The Quiet Writer

For those INFPs out there who are fond of writing themselves and are looking into it as a career, the Quiet Writer has the ability to offer the perfect partnership – it will be practically like dating yourself! A shared love of literature will be the glue that binds the two of you together, and dates will probably consist of visits to the bookshop or the library, tottering back to the car with tiny towers of novels balanced in your respective arms.

The rest of your time together will probably be spent sitting together or in separate rooms writing or reading, with the occasional visit to the other’s room or lifting of eyes from the page, to comment on what one has read, or written, and ask for additional input regarding it. Birthday presents will be books, and more books, and for the two of you, the idea of a good evening is to sit, side-by-side, at the kitchen table, upon which lies an open dictionary, and giggle over the strange words that exist in the English Language – erinaceous, for instance, which means to resemble a hedgehog. The next morning, you will say to the Quiet Writer, as he awakens with scruffy bed-hair beside you, “My darling, you look most erinaceous,” and the two of you will burst into laughter again. By all accounts it sounds like the perfect relationship, but there is always the chance, the two of you being equally retiring and antisocial, for the relationship to dwindle away into something that more resembles two roommates, sharing a living space, than  anything romantic or loving. But, you know, at least you’ll have plenty of books.

I hope this selection of potential mates has given you some food for thought. Do not forget that dating is not confined to Myer-Briggs Personality Types, and that any personality type can fall in love with any personality type, as each of us are too complex and nuanced to be encapsulated by four mere letters.

I, however, in the process of writing it,  certainly came to some conclusions of my own – namely, that, well, as long as I have books, there is very little else I need; but, we all desire companionship, sooner or later, so it’s best to keep an open mind regarding such things, even if having a partner, though it might be an evolutionary imperative, is not exactly a psychological necessity. This should not rule out the possibility of one enjoying having someone warm to curl up against at night, when your heart is too cold, and the world is too big.

But, then again, you could just get a cat for that – much less maintenance.


What This INFP Thinks Of Marriage

So. I think. A lot. Sometimes too much, and to my own detriment, but we are not delving into that right now.

And lately, for some inexplicable reason, I have been dwelling a great deal on children and marriage, neither of which, being still rather young, are in the offing yet for me. This however did not stop me from staying awake for far longer than I should have, musing and envisioning.

It’s a hefty issue, one which everyone seems divided upon, especially women. Some think that marriage is a sacred unit, an institution that will bring fulfilment and joy, rooted in both tradition and biology. Others are of the opinion that it is a waste of time, hinders careers, is a harbinger of stress and arguments – after all, didn’t you know that 50% of marriages end in divorce? Do you want to sacrifice free time and good sleep at the altar of matrimony? Not to mention that lovely figure?

Barring the fact that I care little if my figure is a bit bulgy about the edges, these are all valid concerns which I am sure every woman has weighed in their own minds. At first, being an INFP rather than, say, an analytical INTJ, it seemed like a no-brainer; after all, we’re known as the sweet little lovebirds of the MBTI world, and I, for one, can think of few things more satisfying than engaging a child in imaginative play (being pretty much a little kid on the inside myself) and teaching them about the world and the meaning of life. In fact, not to tout my own horn, but I think INFPs, gentle souls that we are, would make ideal parents.

Thus, marriage seems like the natural progression of such inclinations, doesn’t it? It provides stability, which our scatterbrained minds need plenty of. It provides romance, which we crave like air. It has the possibility to provide children, whom we adore. All in all, very good stuff. But what needs to also enter the equation are individual experiences, problems, hopes and desires, all things that cannot be entirely encapsulated by four letters.

When it comes down to it, even INFPs have to face some forms of reality; and sometimes, with our imaginations, it’s easier to conjure these realities. For one, I am well aware of the kind of commitment marriage entails, and cannot imagine anything more horrifying that being stuck with someone who I does not understand me and I care little for. Although I know it is unhealthy, I also run from conflict like it’s the plague – hardly a good trait to have in a situation where two people may come into conflict on a daily basis. The romantic ideal is a far cry from the daily reality of living with someone.

But these are only surface issues; deep down, like many people, I have problems with self-esteem, in that I cannot imagine why any sane person would want to spend the rest of their life with me. This is not only because I have Asperger’s (which does not mean I am “crazy” or anything) or suffer from social anxiety, or any other psychological problems, though they do contribute.

To be honest, and I’m not sure if this is because I am only young, I feel unattractive a good deal of the time. I am the girl who sits at the back of the bus or tries to hide her face behind a curtain of hair. Who hides in the library so she doesn’t have to talk to people, and then leaves when the library gets busy. Also, being extremely introverted and having few people in my life, if any, who appreciate my deeper thoughts and inner world, I wonder if there is anyone out there for someone who feels so strange and defective.

In the end, it comes down to fear.

I am afraid of not measuring up. I am afraid of being too inhibited to talk to the right person when I do meet him. I am afraid of giving others a chance. I am afraid of my own darkness: the stress that often turns into anger, my tendency to get mopey, to be pessimistic and disheartened. High sociability and an easygoing, optimistic attitude have been conditioned into us as desirable traits. Who on earth, I think to myself, would want to spend time with a severely anxious, occasionally depressive and eccentric young lady who loves books more than family, cats more than people?

Sure, there is someone out there for everyone. Perhaps for me it is a shy, young musician who is socially awkward enough not to find me an object of ridicule. Or maybe not, as though I’m sure he would be a very lovely young man, I continually find myself drawn towards more gregarious and grounded types, most of whom would want nothing to do with me. It is a confusing concoction of knowing who would be good for me, yet not being attracted to them.

Secretly I loathe the reality of anything – meaning, I’d rather sit here and contemplate the wonders of marriage without ever experiencing it. Because the truth is I know what it will be like: just like any other day, any other reality, another human being who orbits around the planet of Me, the two spheres sometimes touching, sometimes not. It’s one of the reasons I idealize people from afar and never approach them. I tell myself it’s because I’m scared of rejection, but that’s not wholly the truth; I’m also subconsciously resistant to shattering the illusion. Let them stay beautiful and perfect. Let it all stay beautiful and perfect in my mind.

Would I be unhappy if I spent the rest of my life “alone”? Not really – I’d have my art and books, my cats. But a partner is one of those things that’s just nice to have, someone to hug at the end of the day and face the world with anew the next morning. And, well, children are pretty adorable, and the thought of reading them bedtime stories – or even books I write! – makes me want to die of happiness.

So, I guess the answer to what I think of marriage, as with most areas of life, is: I don’t know. No-one does, really. We take it day by day, the bitter medicine of reality tempered by sweet doses of hope and love. Maybe I’m too psychologically impaired to leave the house and date! Maybe there is another quirky somebody out there perfect for me, and we’ll live in a library masquerading as a house with a squadron of kitties. Or maybe I will dream of the perfect love for the rest of my life until the day I die.

No matter what happens, I hope to be happy with who am, take pleasure in the small joys of life, and share with the world the art I create. Our lives are big, important businesses only to ourselves, and only we have the power to bring about our own happiness.