Interfacing With A Non-INFJ World

As we've established, in the Meyers-Briggs Test Indicator, I am an INFJ. Unfortunately, most Americans are either an ESTJ  or an ESFJ.

Being an INFJ in a non-INFJ world is like scuba diving. If I have enough energy, I can turn that energy into an oxygen tank, and float around, admire the views and meet the inhabitants. Of course, eventually, I run out of oxygen and have to resurface into my world. If I don't have energy, though, I'm basically holding my breath, seeing how long I can last without passing out, going mad, and/or dying.

Here's an example: a phone call with my dad. As an ESTJ, he does not speak my language. I speak his, but I prefer to speak mine.

Dad: "How are you?"

My response, if I were an ESTJ, would be "Well, I feel kind of awful, but I'm going to see how much I can get done before I need to rest, and by the way did you see/hear about (insert three news stories) and can you believe the weather is (insert whatever the weather is doing.)

My INFJ, and therefore, natural response: "Ok."

Dad: "What's up?"

Me as an ESTJ: "Well, I woke up, caught up on email and social media while doing my blue light winter depression treatment, had some chocolate milk, took my pills, and went to the bathroom, but not in that order. Now I'm in the studio, trying to get something done while I have energy, and you're interrupting me."

Me as an INFJ: "Nothing." (Because even though all of the above happened, none of it mattered enough to be worth the energy to speak it.)

Dad: "How's Percie?"

Me as an INFJ: "Fine, I guess. I haven't seen her."

At this point, I can tell I'm driving him as crazy as he's driving me. An ESTJ would have gone downstairs first thing in the morning to check on the cat, but, again, that's a waste of energy. If Percie wants to interact, she'll either come up stairs or she'll yell at me to come down. In fact, I think Percie might be an INFJ, too. She can spend 23 hours asleep and/or ignoring the world, and then, for one hour, wants constant interaction. After that, she wants to curl up for another 23 hours and not talk. I totally understand. After I'm extremely social, even with people I adore, I need an hour or two in a room with the curtains drawn, a chocolate bar, and absolute silence.

Speaking of curtains, ESTJs will open curtains in the morning, because that's what you do in the mornings. INFJs open the curtains if they want to look out, or if their INFJ cat wants to look out. An ESTJ answers the phone because it rings. I answer the phone if I want to (or need to) talk to the person who is calling. (A big INFJ shout-out to whoever invented caller id. That's a damn fine invention. I'm also fond of live chat.)

An ESTJ might say, "Tell me about your day."

An INFJ will say "Tell me how you felt, what you thought, what you read between the lines, what they didn't say, and if possible, what you dreamed last night and what you think it means. Tell me about something that matters. Or tell me something funny because otherwise meaningless chatter can be amusing if it's funny. But don't talk to me for an hour and a half about nothing that matters, has no substance, and is not even funny simply because you want to fend off silence."

See, we INFJs aren't afraid of silence. In fact, we know that silence, in addition to a respite of conversation, is a conversation all itself. It's an intangible conversation, carried on waves of energy instead of sound, but it's still a conversation.