On Being an INFJ.

I did the Myers-Briggs test recently and discovered that I’m an INFJ. The description matched me very closely so it seems I probably am. And INFJs are quite celebrated, apparently, being the smallest group of all the archetypes and exhibiting radically different views on life and the conduct of life than the vast majority of people. It’s why we’re widely misunderstood.

So has it ever got me anywhere? Well, it’s been responsible for garnering the odd compliment here and there, such as:

You understand me better than anybody else does.

How do you get to the crux of my problem so quickly when it never occurred to me?

You deduce things about me which even I’d never realised, and you’re right.

How do you manage to be so damned honest?

Ethics and altruism are so important to you, aren’t they? Why?

You’re bloody weird.

But has it ever engendered any practical benefit? Has it ever really got me anywhere? Not really. So is it worth being an INFJ? Probably not.

And might I just add that I’m not making this post in order to brag. Not at all. It’s just that it’s dull and wet outdoors yet again, and there’s not much to do in the house, so I’m bored.