Sometimes I’m aware enough of my ongoing identity crisis to glimpse the sheer silliness in my utter desperation to lock down a livable “I” blueprint at all costs.
Describing the experience of watching myself shift between viable “I” models might sound somewhat Suesswellian…
But to me it’s been finding in the place of any actual “I” only that which awareness and conception might convey of an ever shifting “why” that merges in each moment as combinations of forces occurring to me as values each and all wanting to use my life to exist.
Living without identity always leads me back to asking: What if there is no real “I” beyond just an idea given to account for and make sense of an evolving “why”?
Or: What would it mean if “why” causes “I,” so “I” is a story that exists only in relation to “why”?
Though ego works with every framework to hold me to my current story, sometimes the constant shifting shows me also what’s beneath.
Before landing my most recent job, I interviewed for months.
The experience was always the same.
Driving to the interview, I’d be rehearsing responses to whatever difficult questions I guessed might be asked.
I always felt pressured to be an extrovert.
More specifically, I felt like I was supposed to be this sunny, caring cheerleader type who brightened everyone’s day with my bubbly demeanor.
I think at the core of the INFJ you find a peaceful stillness.
As an INFJ, the core of what you are is a subtle awareness taking place that looks deep beneath the surface to see connections revealing potential and possibility.
“Health” via “conforming” looks quite different for each type.
Declaring yourself terrible is too easy.
Writing yourself off like that is an excuse . . . a way of hiding behind ideals of perfection.
I can relate. I spent my teens and 20’s cycling through identities based on attractive qualities I saw in others.
What stops me from being my authentic self is searching for my authentic self.
Some feel pressured to be something that doesn’t come natural to what they really are.