Nothing is truer than an infj’s ability to see the potential in each individual. We have a tendency to look at people as their whole story, not just who they are in the moment. We consider everything that went into making people the way they are…from our significant others to family members to strangers on the street. We do it with everyone, without even really meaning to. That’s just how we see people.
One thing I’m unsure of, however, is how good for us that is. I have a terrible problem of falling in love with people for the way they COULD be.
Yes, I know they COULD live up to my high standards, but that doesn’t mean they will. In every relationship I’ve ever been in, it’s always been a constant struggle trying to help them see that they have that potential within them, and it’s only a matter of working towards it. It’s not that I expect people to perfect. I don’t at all. I just expect people to constantly be trying as hard as I am to become a better version of myself. Because that’s what I’m always doing.
I honestly feel hopeless sometimes that I’ll never be able to find someone that understands that. I don’t want a perfect person. But I do want a compatible person. And I do want someone who tries hard to always be their best. Is that fair?
I am constantly asking myself the question, “Is that normal?!” because I’m so convinced of an idea myself, but I forget that not everyone looks at life the way I do. So I feel incredibly isolated and lonely, because I feel like I would only ever know if I was “normal” or “reasonable” if I knew another INFJ to compare myself to. But we’re so rare! Chances are I have met at least one in my life, but I sure don’t know any personally. It’s incredibly frustrating, and it makes me start to feel defective.
I’m a right and a left brain-ed thinker. I am very emotional and feel things a lot, but I ALWAYS have a reason for feeling what I do. I always have some type of logic behind every feeling, and I don’t come to conclusions quickly. But as soon as I feel I’ve gathered enough information, I feel very strongly. It’s rationality and emotion combined. And that is so freaking hard to understand in myself sometimes.
We always have the potential to rise. Rise out of our slump. Rise out of our negative thoughts. Rise out of our comfort zone. Rise out of our complaints. GET UP AND RISE. Rising is a choice that’s one powerful thought away.
That moment when you’re talking to a POT on the phone and you confuse him with another one and you give him your usual $5k allowance request and he agrees in .2 seconds flat and then it clicks and you remember he’s the one with his “lifestyle budget” set to ‘High’ on SA and you’re just like HOLY SHIT I JUST LOW-BALLED MYSELF AND I’M FURIOUS AT MYSELF.
“[W]e are always haunted by the myth of our potential, of what we might have it in ourselves to be or do. So when we are not thinking, like the character in Randall Jarrell’s poem, that ‘The ways we miss our lives is life’, we are grieving or regretting or resenting our failure to be ourselves as we imagine we could be. We share our lives with the people we have failed to be.”
Adam Phillips, from Missing Out: In Praise of the Unlived Life (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2013)