There’s a place that is sensible to start with this blog, but that’s not where I plan on starting. I refuse to be sensible.
This time last year, we did the Meyers-Briggs with the kids. It was interesting, mostly because it gave me a better idea of how to relate to them. I didn’t pay a lot of attention to my own scoring. I had a discussion with someone late last week about it, and I started to read up about my own personality.
I’m an INFJ. I read a particular personality portrait, and it was like someone was talking about me. Exactly me.
It often takes me a long time to figure out exactly what I feel about something. I’m always surprised by people who can immediately understand and perceive their own feelings. Mine are often a total mystery to me. More often I can discern how I am feeling by listening to my body, where I am holding tension, if I feel sick to my stomach. Sometimes it’s the words that come out of my reaction, my seemingly random and sometimes irrational outbursts, where I feel almost disconnected from myself as I’m ranting away at someone who finally tipped me over the edge.
It was that moment, where the personality profile talked about a rich inner life, being complex, being able to pick up on things that other people didn’t see. More than that, today at least, it was the section that talked about what happens when you violate my sense of ethics.
Months and months ago, after a very terrible day, I called Ms. Fab from the airport. She listened to me talk (well, rant) for quite a long time, and then finally she said “well, it’s an ethical issue. You don’t cave on those. Those are brick walls for you. You do not give in.”
I consider myself to be fairly tolerant. I try – quite hard – to not exercise my judgement on other people. I would tell you – and I would mean it – that there are lots of ways to be human and I don’t have the inside line on any of them. I think of myself as flexible.
Except this. Every so often someone hits one of my brick walls. When you violate my sense of fair play, the things that I hold dear. The things that I expect of those that I love.
And I realize this – I am flexible. Until you push my back up against the brick wall.
I come out fighting then.