Since we didn’t have any mutual friends in common, it was mostly an easy break; there was no contact afterward. Years of this late-night internet obsession later, I ended up taking the test again.
While my N and F were as strong as ever, my weak E became an I, and my P slipped into a slight J.
As a result, the getting to know you process is full of breaking points.
These little moments take on heavy (and unrealistic) meanings that can send you flying out the door - sometimes too quickly.
After a minor car crash (that was entirely my fault), our summer love came to a screeching halt. Things that we might have glossed over when we were physically together became mammoth canyons when all we had was a phone. Short story: The hypothetical life we had thought we could build together was really a castle made on quicksand, and it was all caving in quite fast. When I did start “talking” to other guys, I would quickly tell them about this personality predictor only to be disappointed when they were a different type.
That night, kind of shaken up by events, we had real talk. With my heart in my throat, our relationship was terminated suddenly—and sharply. Instead of leaving my MBTI revelations to the wayside, I clung to them even harder. In my sadness, I quickly became obsessed, scrolling through forums late at night, scavenging for answers. How could I ever be happy with an INFP, an ESTJ, or (heaven forbid) an ISTJ?
Each individual falls somewhere on a spectrum for each of these four functions.
Which means, you tend to over-weigh the few morsels of information you receive.
And with that, I realized that my love for the test was really my sad, kind of pathetic hope that my long-lost love would come back. But I do regret my naivety in thinking that he—or his type—was the only one, or even the one.
My husband is not the same personality type; in fact, the online forums tell me his alleged ENTJ-ness is far too brusque and domineering for my sensitive nature, but I don’t find him at all that way; he’s warm and endearing.
On the other hand, that’s just it: you’re categorizing people into neat little boxes, and a misguided adherence to it can backfire.
Our little coffee date that summer was the best first date ever.