Loving Myself

A friend did the Myers Briggs Personality Test today and I felt like doing it too although I pretty much know what would I be getting. I can confidently say that I've been doing the same thing for more than 50 times since I-don't-know-when and the four letters INFJ will always be the end result.

I've forgotten about how the test will always give extensive descriptions of our personalities after we find out which one do we belong to. Reading about myself as described in those long paragraphs made me wonder about so many things today.

First of all, I don't know whether you believe in these kind of tests. Whether you choose to see it as a good indicator to show yourself the side of you that you never really noticed. Whether you'd want to be defined by the descriptions they give you.

But being reminded once again that I belong to the personality type which makes up to only 1% of the population amuses me in a way that all these while I've been too hard on myself.

These past few weeks, many people have left their remarks about me that made me feel so lonely, so alien, so inadequate compared to other people. It even hurts more when your sister tells you that your lack of confidence annoys her. It hurts you when someone makes a playful remark that "your friend should try hard to change you." I am not a commercial product. I am not a bottle of shampoo that needs to have the same shape and design with anyone else. Why on earth did I not think of this weeks ago? Why?

For days, I've been beating myself up. I hate the fact that I'm not brave enough compared to other people. I'm not independent enough like most of my friends. I never feel good enough even in the eyes of my own dad. And just like what I told another friend the other day, it hurts me that at the age of 22, I still feel the need to gain approval and recognition from others, even perfect strangers. That friend told me it's very normal to feel happy if a person of authority said you did a good job. But for me, I was beyond happy and that scares me. I was beyond happy when my driving instructor said out simple words like "perfect!" and I was very sad when my sister questioned my confidence in dressing. I don't like the fact that sometimes no one in the family understands why am I too happy and too sad over certain things which to them, is actually completely normal and shouldn't be felt too much.

As I read the description of INFJ individuals, only then I realised why I always felt so lonely and different in a bad way. While no one else in this family loves reading sappy fiction and listening to life stories of others and spending hours to write a daily journal entry or be too generous with praises towards each other (only my mum gives me all the recognition/attention/praises that I've ever wanted) I began to realise that I might be the only INFJ in the house. And that pretty much describes why I can never be like my sisters. And all of a sudden I don't care anymore about what my sister has to say about my personality. Or whether my mum thinks I should mix around with people more. Or whether my dad half-asked half-praised me that "You can play chords?!" on the guitar while I'm already playing some advanced fingerstyle stuffs.

I know they're the ones who would catch a grenade (or jump in front of a train) for me. But sometimes I wish I didn't always have to feel like the odd one out. I wish I didn't always have to feel so bad just because I'm trying to be myself, doing the things that I love that I know isn't harming anyone in any possible way. I don't like it when I am told to feel less emotions. I don't like it to be corrected all the time until the point that I become too self-conscious of my actions and words especially when I'm in front of my family.

I may be the weird child but after reading about my strengths and weaknesses as pointed out by the article, I agree with all of the things stated and I start to understand that if I can't love my own weirdness, I'll never get to accept myself in this lifetime. I always imagine that what if I die and my family will read all of those journals I've written on over the years which are filled with stories and descriptions of different people who I've met, and all of my feelings towards these people. Will they understand me? Will anyone on this earth understand what I feel and why I feel that way?

And then I start to think that what if these tests were designed just to make people feel good about themselves. What if they're just like zodiac readings. What if I'm actually not as described in those articles, but I make myself believe I am that way, with that kind of personality.

But in the end it all doesn't matter, right? In the end all that matters is just that today I've learnt that I'm not inadequate, I'm just different in a weird way, and I can't be 100% the same like anyone else on the planet. It's either I hate myself and die miserably or start accepting myself and live happily. I know I have a choice and I'm not too stupid to realise which one is better.

Anyway I also coincidentally found out about a prose peom called Desiderata which makes me wonder where has this thing been hiding all my life. It's such a perfect masterpiece which I plan to print out and stick on my bedroom wall. 

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. 

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. 

Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. 

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. 

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. 

Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass. 

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. 

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. 

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. 

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. 

And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy. 

Max Ehrmann, "Desiderata"