I’m an INFP on the Meyers-Brigg Personality Chart

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INFP. Introverted. Intuitive. Feeling. Perceiving.

A personality test has narrowed me down into a group of people with these characteristics. If you want to pinpoint and classify me into a group and this has to be it, then I can live with it. I have been for a very long time.

As an introvert, I take pleasure in things such as researching historical facts. I enjoy writing a variety of different topics and learning as much as I can from them. That, I’ve been told, has made me something of a professional student.

I will spend as much time as it takes to read a good book and lose myself in a world of absolute wonder.

Feelings. Nothing more than feelings. Intuitive and feeling go hand in hand I suppose. I rely on my feelings and intuition to do such things as somehow being in tune as to the way others are feeling. I sometimes can feel the way they feel. Empathy, I suppose, is what you would call it.

Perceive. Observing.

This trait is exactly the way I write my poems. Pick one out, there’s a long list of my works to read. The way I write every poem is I observe something and then I tell a story.

Is this something that needs amended? Should I be more outgoing? Less shy? Less timid?

To be honest, I can be quite outgoing – given time to get to know the other person. A few have had the patience to stick it out with me and see that side of my personality. Others, I know, can find me withdrawn and go as far as saying there’s a sadness about me.

I’m not sad.

I’m really not.

I love to laugh. I love to walk around with my best friend in Lowe’s with an English accent complaining how there are no decent tea shops in this bloody town. I hold a certain grin of mischief when a look is cast my way in confusion.

I enjoy sitting for hours upon end writing my books and formatting them. I’m a terrible boss because I neglect to give myself breaks sometimes. I like to create my own worlds. But not at the expense of missing out on the real one. Eventually, I will give myself that needed break.

I don’t want to be alone. Not really.

Bridge_to_Mars
Bridge to Mars by Wagsegura

I look forward to 7:07 when my husband walks through the door. I enjoy talking to my dad on the phone for hours upon end. I like to help a person in the store who can’t quite seem to find what they’re looking for (even if I don’t work there). I absolutely love holding a baby in my arms and seeing those new, fresh eyes and relishing in the fact that this child will have a chance to see the future that we have in store for us. Us as humans. Humanity.

They will know if we’re going to make it as a human race. To see if there will be kindness and our humanity is going to succeed.

I walk out of my apartment and take a moment to look up to the sky and thank God that he created us and loves us enough to gives us a bright, shining star in the sky to light our days and a Moon to shine on us at night. I see the birds flying in perfect formation to their destination.

A tilt of the head. A vacant stare.

It looks as though I’m not smiling. I know. But here’s the thought. The main thought in an INFP mind. Or more directly – to Susan’s mind.

I think an awful lot. I get lost in those thoughts because I see this big planet and the wonderment of it all.

How I’m walking, talking, hugging, or simply standing.

I suppose what I’m trying to say, what I really mean to say is, I don’t need to be fixed, repaired, or altered. I am my own person. I am me.

I won’t change the foundation of who I am and neither should you. That’s what makes us all so unique. I may learn new things and apply it to the original but that sense to be kind, to feel, to observe, and then take the twenty six letters of the alphabet and tell you a story… that is deep inside me.

That is who I am.

I am a 32 year old that holds a promise that I have every intention of keeping – I won’t lose my spark of childlike amazement and curiosity.

So, when you see me on the street or in a shop and I’ve stopped all of a sudden.The sun is setting. Head tilt to the side and you swear you don’t see a smile. Do me a favor? Just one.

Look closer.

The corner of my lips.

Yes, right there. See?

The smile is there and that smile is me loving every single moment of being blessed with another day to see all there is to see.

And sometimes, I paint what I see.

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Sunset by Susan Reed

 

With love,

Susan.

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