I have a confession to make: After all these years, it seriously bothers me that other people don’t like me.

I don’t know why it should. I’ve lived on my own since I was 17, survived in some of the most brutal and competitive cities in the world without ending up as a news story, and I’ve met every kind of person on the planet. I’m well-aware not everyone in the world is going to like me, just as I don’t necessarily like everyone I meet. Yet, when it is brought to my attention that someone doesn’t like me, or once liked me and has since reversed his or her opinion, it has an emotional impact.

OMG, why doesn’t everyone like me?

Not only do people not like me, in some situations, I encounter people who actively dislike me. After over three decades of life, I’m still encountering girls who talk about me behind my back, or do little more than glare at me when I see them, although I don’t remember ever actually saying or doing anything negative to them. I’m still encountering people I thought were “real” friends who no longer hang out with me because they have a boyfriend/girlfriend/best friend who doesn’t approve of me. I can inspire women twice my age to send me vitriolic letters and make phone calls that would put a less self-assured person on the brink of suicide. I have made people want to literally destroy my life, and not in the high school sense, where a bad rumour is circulated to make someone cry. Especially in Atlanta, where people are immediately sized up in social situations by money, appearance, and availability for no-strings-attached hookups, I’ve had to deal with the transition of no longer being the person everyone finds fascinating and wants to get to know. I’m a decade too old and twenty pounds too heavy in order to inspire people to pay attention to me for all the wrong reasons, which should be a relief, but it’s not. Instead, it makes you feel rather non-existent, as if you’ve fallen off the social radar of life.

I can make an enemy just by showing up. It turns out that when you’re taught “be yourself”, that mostly only applies if yourself is sufficiently socially acceptable and enough like everyone else that you’re dubbed as “a nice person”.

Why am I not a nice person?

I actually really am. I hold doors for strangers, make small talk with people I don’t know, pay for lunch when it’s my turn to do so, and don’t commit embarrassing party faux pas. On your birthday, I will always send a note or a card or a gift or plan you a party. If I like you, I will send you mail for no reason or share a particularly moving book I just read. I return phone calls, and send my regrets when I can’t make it to things. I am by no means a doormat, but I consider myself a generally nice and empathetic person.

Yet, it consistently shocks me when someone I thought was a friend turns out not to be, someone who is an acquaintance and doesn’t know me is spending time gossiping about me and I’m experiencing social repercussions as a result, someone says or writes something extraordinarily self-esteem shattering behind my back, or someone with whom I have a mild infatuation or am crushing on doesn’t see what an awesome, fun, and loving person I happen to be.

Do I suffer from low self-esteem, or rampant narcissism?

After all, it’s not paranoia if people are really out to get you, and it’s not low-self-esteem if what’s bringing you down comes out of the mouths of other people. Sometimes, it’s people you really care about, although you wonder why. Sometimes, it’s someone you know nothing about. Either way, the rejection and hurtful assessment of what’s unlikeable about you hits hard.

I’ve always been that way. I have always needed everyone to like me, and it’s always come as a punch in the stomach when I’ve heard people say things behind my back. I used to think I was my own worst critic, and then I met other people, and the things that were most hurtful were the things I already feel self-conscious about as a human being. It’s one thing if I look at myself in the mirror and tear myself down on a daily basis, and understand the reason everyone doesn’t love and adore me is because I am not pretty enough, smart enough, nice enough, likeable enough, laid-back enough, skinny enough, entertaining enough. It’s quite another when you hear others saying these things about you.

I was never bullied in high school. I never went through that “I don’t want to go to school because it’s a mean place that makes me feel bad about myself” phase, and I guess I’m fortunate. At the same time, I never learned the coping mechanisms that many of my peers learned early on, namely how to not let rejection and criticism and abject meanness affect you too personally. I went through the same awkward adolescent crap as everyone else, but for the most part, I was a fairly popular and energetic person who was very driven, and thrived on being at the center of everything. I suppose that hasn’t changed.

However, back in those days, for every few close friends I had, I had someone who wanted to tear me down and make me cry. I learned I wasn’t sweet or nice or congenial. I wasn’t the perfectly pretty girl everyone wanted to look like, or the charming one that everyone wondered “How does she have so many friends?”. However, I had enough redeeming qualities to make me a well-liked person by my peers. Still, I was too insecure about the people who said mean things about me to notice that. I wondered what was wrong with me.

I have always been a divisive personality.

I don’t know why. People either love me—in some cases, they actually fall pretty hard or maintain intense connections with me through long periods of time, and are the type that would do almost anything for me—or they hate me. When I use the word “hate”, I don’t exaggerate. I’ve been offered money to stop seeing people, and blackmailed in attempts to get me out of town. I’ve been completely ostracised by groups of people without even knowing what they had against me. I’ve had people say to ex-boyfriends, “Sure, I’ll marry you, as long as you never have contact with that girl again.”

But I don’t, for the life of me, know what’s so objectionable about me. Those who like me find me thoughtful, witty, empathetic, creative, entertaining, intuitive, and intelligent. I’m well-traveled, well-educated, and consider myself fairly cultured. Yet, I try my best to be all those things in a rather unpretentious way. I have a lot of interesting life stories…and I mean a LOT. Some people likely find them more entertaining than others, but isn’t that the same with everyone? Maybe I’m not wealthy enough or attractive enough to have every guy I’ve ever liked fall at my feet in return, or every girl I’ve ever wanted to be friends with to find me cool enough for her social circle, but neither have I done too shabbily in either of those departments throughout my life. I’ve never been one to have trouble finding dates, or relationships, or making new friends in a new place. I will find myself in a brand new city for a day, and have an adventure, and meet 20 strangers. Yet, the reality is, at least 5 of those strangers didn’t really care for me or resented my presence, while another 5 immediately friended me on Facebook.

I know I am not low-key enough to ever win any congeniality awards. It isn’t that I’m not nice. Yet,I say what I think. I stand up for myself, and my ideals. I won’t keep my mouth shut just to be polite, or keep conversation from getting too deep, because I find that painfully dull. If you get to know me, you may just find me rather insightful and compassionate. I won’t decide that glitter and jewelry and other adornments aren’t for me, because they’re too much for other people. I don’t see how the way I use fashion to express myself should form your opinion of me at all, yet I’ve heard it does. Frankly, I sometimes feel like a Real Housewife Of Atlanta, without the money and its advantages.

I know some people find my way of being “too much”, are put off by my rather Northern demeanour, which can come off as brash or abrasive without meaning to. Some don’t like my flirtatious banter or witty observations. Some people dislike my style, my disinterest in simply being pretty and charming and accommodating, ideals that are held very highly in women in the South. Some people don’t care for my ability to make a snarky remark, tell a dirty joke, or drink others under the table while still having a fairly respectable good time. Others don’t relate to my disinterest in marriage and children and having things in my life to nurture and support. Sorry, but I’d prefer to discuss politics over pacifiers any day, and I think a drink with a friend at 6 PM every day should be mandatory.

Of course, then there are those who don’t find me particularly respectable or endearing or charming at all, and that’s not something I can ever change.

But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt my feelings. I don’t intend to come off as obnoxious to some or threatening to others. I just like having fun and living life without too long of a list of rules and boundaries. I don’t mind that maybe some of my choices in life are unconventional, so why should anyone else? If those who judged me bothered to talk to me about my life, they might learn to look at the world in new ways, as I do when I talk to people who aren’t much like me.

So, why don’t people like me?”

The answer is, truly, I don’t know. I do my best to be nice to others while refusing to change who I am, as a person, in order to suit anyone else. It’s never enough. I’ve encountered more hatred and judgment and criticism in Atlanta than I have in my entire lifetime anywhere else, and I don’t understand. I wish I did. But it’s tiring, feeling perpetually misunderstood, on the defensive, or just overlooked.

I don’t think it’s low self-esteem, because most of the time, I think I’m pretty fricking awesome. I’m just secretly crying because someone else I either liked or respected or genuinely cared about didn’t agree, and I don’t know how to brush things off and move on without being too affected, as most adults seem to know how to do.

However, if people don’t like you often enough and criticise you harshly enough, insecurity is an inevitable consequence. You begin to wonder if all the secret little imperfections you see in yourself are so glaringly obvious to others that people can’t stand you. You wonder what people really say about you behind your back, if the bits and pieces you’ve heard are bad enough.

I was always nice to you, so how can you not like me?”

Inside, there’s a 13-year-old girl who asks that, and can’t come to terms with the idea that someone people just genuinely dislike the kind of human being you are. Being yourself doesn’t always win you friends. Being intelligent and accomplished and empathetic doesn’t always make you likeable. If you’re a woman, sometimes being yourself is the fastest way to make enemies, either because the men around you want to sleep with you or they don’t, and the women around you are either threatened or disdainful of the lack of positive qualities you bring to the table.

It’s not fair, but it’s how it is. Yet, it doesn’t hurt any less when you’re the type of person who truly invests in building real friendships and chooses them carefully, or meets someone to whom you’re genuinely attracted once a year, and those things aren’t always treated as the gift they are

If I share myself with someone, on whatever level, it’s a gift…because I don’t take the walls down for just anyone. When I do, those friendships and relationships often become connections that last a lifetime, but when others find them disposable or not that significant, it affects me more than it should. It’s a reminder of why I am so distrustful, so reticent to really bond with others.

I wish that, not just in regards to my own experience but in general, people saw what others bring into their lives as the gift it is.

Why don’t people like me?

I won’t ever know, I suppose. I know I like me, most of the time, though probably no more or less than anyone else. I know I am often unfairly judged, misunderstood, or fit into someone’s life as the “inspiring manic pixie” character who is tossed aside when someone else finally becomes who they wanted to be and found what they were really looking for. It’s hard to be the person who is hurt in all of those situations.

I can only be glad that those who do support me, love me, adore me, maintain infatuations with me, want to be my friend, go out of their way to hang out and call and write and visit, and honestly are happier for having me in their lives feel the way they do. I may never understand why people react so strongly to my personality, either positively or negatively, but I do know I have more enduring friendships and relationships than most. Little is superficial in my universe, and maybe that’s why things are the way they are, because I don’t have much interest in the superficial, the acquaintances, the living life on the surface.

Unfortunately, sometimes, I think I’m in the wrong place, the wrong time, the wrong mindset for that.

Perhaps that, more than anything else, is why people don’t like me.

If you know me, or have followed my page for any length of time, you know I’m a huge fan of the Meyers-Briggs Personality Inventory, and by extension, the Keirsey Temperament Sorter. Although not everyone agrees with me on the actual psychological merit behind these tests, I can say that these tests have pegged me almost dead-on, down to the percentages in which certain aspects of my personality are expressed and what personality attributes are most significant to me in terms of how I relate to others.

Although I don’t always listen, this test has never steered me wrong in telling me (or warning me) about my compatibility with friends, lovers, enemies, and acquaintances. My lifelong friends tend to be of one or two distinct personality types. The people with whom I have the most natural and interesting bonds tend to be of one or two distinct personality types. The people I’ve dated but shouldn’t have, and tried to be friends with, but just couldn’t, all have ended up being the same personality type. The people I trusted who then stabbed me in the back happened to be of a particular personality type. I don’t always follow the intuitive voice that accompanies learning someone is not Meyers-Briggs compatible with me, and that usually does not work out peacefully or end well, but I give this test credit for somehow understanding me, and who might fit into my life, and how, and why. In some cases, it sees more clearly and understands my relationships with others better than I do.

Anyhow, if you’re not familiar with Meyers-Briggs, or put my unwavering belief in it on the same level as the fact that I check my horoscope every day and have my tarot cards read, and firmly believe I am intuitively developed enough that I have “psychic dreams” and “visions”—you will not care about this post. However, if you do know your Meyers-Briggs type, you’ll be amused by this little article, breaking the 16 archetypes down into their animal equivalents.

Unsurprisingly, I am one of the most loving and peaceful of all the animals: the dolphin.

I’m just not performing on command for your entertainment, damn it. :p Unless I feel like it. Or you bribe me. Or there’s a really big audience. *laughs*

Of all the words that can open a conversation, a phrase involving the word “incompatibility” is typically up there with “We need to talk..” and “I’ve been doing some thinking”. When you preface any conversation by remarking upon the general level of incompatibility between you and another person, what follows is inevitably going to be a form of rejection. The context of the remark, and the intent of anything that follows, is irrelevant.

Well, it is not actually irrelevant, of course…it probably makes a huge difference to you in one way or another. It probably makes a huge difference to the other person, as well. However, it doesn’t detract from a certain level of implied rejection present in the comment.

This applies to most situations, be it in the workplace, disagreements with friends, the reason someone doesn’t want to go out with you, or is choosing to end a relationship. Between all people, there’s a certain level of incompatibility. Dismissing things, feelings, people, or ideas on that basis really is just a form of rejection, albeit a really kind and thoughtful one, and one that’s often based in logic rather than feeling. It’s also one you really can’t dispute, because the conversation would go a lot like this:

“I think we have too many incompatibilities for “XYZ” to be successful”.

“I don’t see it that way. I intuitively feel that you’re wrong/have misjudged the situation/are personally rejecting me.”

“Well, I do see it that way. It’s not rejection, but you can take it however you want.”

Really, you can’t go much past that point. That’s sort of the end of the line for any conversation relating to the situation, and there isn’t any lack of clarity there. You know how that person feels about you and your interactions.

Today (which was actually yesterday), I told a story about a relationship that ended very amicably and without drama, and it was a more personal form of the hypothetical conversation referenced above. Of course, it was longer than three sentences, but those three sentences were the intent behind the breakup. And, because there is really nothing that can be said when someone says “We have too many incompatibilities for this to work”, it was one of the least drama-filled breakups I’ve ever been through. Not to say it didn’t hurt like hell. It did, for a long time. We are still friends, in that casual sort of way people are when they are friends after a breakup, and when I think of him, there’s no bitterness or egocentric “I hate you because you rejected me”.

(It’s kind of like when you ask someone why they don’t pay more attention to you, and they respond, half-jokingly, with “Because I have enough common sense not to.” :P )

You *have* to see these things as a type of rejection, because they really rather are. Just because the answer isn’t “Because I don’t like you” doesn’t make it not rejection. It just makes it less mean. :P

Considering these things and reflecting upon this past breakup in my life—how I saw it when it happened, and how I feel about it now—made me decide to write a blog on the topic of criticism, rejection, insecurity, feeling less than accepted, and all that not-good stuff.

That being said, I’ve gotten rather awesome at handling various types of rejection in all spheres of my life. I, of course, do not like rejection or criticism or disinterest in any form—-editors sending back my work for revision upsets me, as does feedback that implies my work is less than perfect—and, along the same lines, criticism and rejection in my personal friendships doesn’t bother me any less. Yet, I’ve learned to handle all of these things with a lot more grace and attitude of “c’est la vie” than I used to.

People have, over the years, told me this is something that happens to people around the age of 30. As your sense of who you are and what you want, need, and value becomes more solid, the emotional reaction that accompanies someone not liking you, someone criticising you, someone not being attracted to you, someone finding flaw with your work, someone thinking you’re replaceable, someone defining how they wish to interact with you in terms of limitations…it’s not quite as earth-shattering as it was 10 years earlier. It’s somehow less personal, and more about “this is how life works”.

That being said, it’s totally not without effect, either. The reason most of the world doesn’t put themselves out there and walk around wearing their heart on their sleeve is that rejection sucks, even the nice kind, even the teasing kind put out there by people who genuinely care about you, and the logical, obvious kind that’s..well, obvious and makes sense on a purely intellectual level (which is not always where the fundamentals of human interactions are formed.)

After recounting my drunk texting weekend drama, a friend of mine laughingly told me that I lacked in subtlety (which, of course, I naturally took as a criticism, although it was meant as a compliment…like me, this friend finds subtlety an overrated virtue). I thought about this, and realised that of course he is right, but it’s also partially why I have struggled with any form of criticism or rejection throughout my life.

Starting at a very early age, when I started performing and making auditions a huge part of my world, I opened myself up to encounter more criticism, feedback, rejection, and other opportunities for hurt feelings than most. This sort of naturally translated into who I became as a human being…I’m quite frank, very straightforward, and some people find that direct approach to life shocking or unrefined. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and I share it with the world, something reflected in everything from my personal relationships and friendships, my approach to work and art and creativity, even this blog.

In reality, I probably do encounter criticism, hurtful remarks, and rejection more often than most people, because I put myself out there in a way most people do not. Sometimes that comes across as lacking in subtlety or not caring for social propriety, and that is criticised (which could be why I’ve struggled a little, finding acceptance here in the Southeast.) Sometimes, it comes across as confidence or social fearlessness, and is something that other people (especially women my age or slightly older) have told me they wished they possessed.

It’s an odd choice for a naturally sensitive person, living not only a lifestyle but being of a personality where “I’m putting it all out there, you can judge if you want.” is normal. It’s even more odd for someone who is naturally hurt by the slightest criticism, offended by the slightest disinterest, or implication that she is somehow secondary to another person. Yet, this is obviously my natural inclination when it comes to dealing with people, since it is a tendency that’s amazingly amplified when I have been drinking and have a phone in my hand.) I don’t think it means it’s not there throughout the rest of my life, because it very obviously is…it’s more that part of me must feel some freedom in displaying that natural tendency without considering consequences.

I know I am not alone in this seemingly contradictory approach to life. I have a friend who is an actress, and has gained a certain level of success and notoriety in the business via the world of reality TV, a world that isn’t for people who aren’t willing to put everything out there for judgment and be vulnerable. It isn’t a world in which highly sensitive personalities have an easy time of it, and my friend certainly did not. The negativity and outright hostility, not to mention rejections and judgments in both her personal and professional lives, took her a very, very long time to deal with. Yet, part of what made it so difficult for her is simply being a highly sensitive person who is also quite naturally lacking in subtlety or a sense of the right way to play the game in the world. She goes her own way, is a person who is very different from most people, is hurt when others dislike her, but not enough to keep it from her path. With age, she’s lost a lot of her insecurity, and rejection and criticism doesn’t seem to affect her in the way it used to. In many ways, she and I are very similar people, and I’ve learned a lot about life from her experiences.

While television and stage and the world of performance in general are, admittedly, a different world from every day life…a lot of the same tools apply. Learning to cope with judgment or criticism, being rejected because there’s someone who comes across as smarter or prettier or a different “type”, being reminded that not everyone thinks you’re as charming or interesting as you find yourself to be, and having people label and typecast you as a matter of business are things that affect all of us, performers or not.

As for me, my friend is 100% correct in one respect. I absolutely lack in subtlety, and engage people in a way that’s more direct and requires more vulnerability than many feel comfortable with. I think, at heart, I’m just a typical New Yorker. I don’t have time for games, I’m not interested in BS and “social propriety”, and I’d rather be judged for being me than loved for all the effort that goes into trying to be someone else. I put everything out there, even when it invites rejection or would be emotionally easier to avoid an unpleasant conversation or to use discretion and keep something to myself. Yet, there’s a a part of me that’s also incredibly closed off, that few people see, that’s difficult to get to know, and probably leads people to form a picture of me that resembles a puzzle..missing a few key pieces here and there. Most people think they understand me pretty well. Most people are incredibly wrong.

I don’t like rejection, dismissal, criticism, or any form of being made to feel insecure or inferior. Yet, I leave the door open for it in all aspects of my life, most of the time, just by being me, speaking my mind, wearing my heart on my sleeve, and approaching people in a very direct fashion…and then I need to figure out the right way to deal with it when I don’t like what I hear. I’m actually so overly sensitive that I hear rejection in comments that aren’t meant to contain them, that are issued by friends who truly like and value me. Yet, simply by behaving with a little more subtlety, and approaching life a little less directly, I might mitigate some of the things I hear that don’t make me smile.

Yet, that’s not what I do. I probably never will. It really is interesting, the opposing forces built into the the building blocks that comprise my personality. :)

And I think it’s kind of awesome that a friend knows me well enough to point out that I generally lack in subtlety, but that’s exactly what’s likeable about me…at least in the eyes of some people. *laughs*

We all know I’m a big fan of the Meyers-Briggs personality inventory, largely because I’ve yet to find a psychological test that describes me as well as this one does. It’s also fairly spot-on with describing many people I know. I’ve “typed” most of my close friends over time, and have found it ironic that certain people with whom I share certain relationship/friendship-oriented traits and challenges end up having the same personality type.

Somehow, a discussion about M-B types got started on my FB page this evening, and it led me to this site, which is pretty comprehensive about providing details regarding each type of personality. The link above is to the page for my type, ENFP, but all 16 are listed. It’s a good starting point if you don’t know much about what your type supposedly says about you.

One of the more interesting features on the page, though, is the Relationship Pairing section. The idea is that there is no compatible or incompatible type of person for someone, but that each type has a natural relationship with each of the other 15 types (16 if you include relationships between two people of the same type), each with its own set of benefits and challenges. If you buy into the whole Meyers-Briggs thing extending to how people interact in work and personal relationships, this tells you your “ideal” relationship with a person of another type. It doesn’t necessarily follow that the more similar letters you have, the closer your relationship will be.

For a while, I’ve noticed I seemed to have a love/hate relationship with INTJs. I am initially very attracted to people of this personality type (even if I don’t know they are of that type), but the friendship or relationship tends to be characterised by a lot of drama, arguing, or inability to communicate on the same level. I have at least two friends I like a great deal and have been in my life for a long time, but I suffer with the same emotional/communication issues with both. We always work through things because for all our differences, there’s actually a high level of understanding…but it’s a complex communication dynamic. I have a former INTJ friend who ended our friendship over our inability to communicate in a manner that wasn’t heavily emotionally charged. INTJ friendships and relationships are challenging for me, yet I seem to seek them out without meaning to.

On the other hand, I have a relatively new friend who describes himself as an INTJ, but with whom I have none of these issues. Most of the time, we have a really high level of tolerance, understanding, compatibility, and ability to discuss feelings with one another, something I do not share with other INTJs. It is odd that we communicate as peacefully as we do, and have as much in common as we do. I believe he may be closer to an INFJ.

So, because I was curious, I looked up my thing with certain personality types, and how we’re supposed to get along, and why it’s so frustrating, communication-wise.

Apparently, the INTJ is my “Pedagogue”, defined as a relationship where each is both the other’s mentor and student: has a “parent to child” feel. This explains why most of my INTJ friendships are with people I find extremely intelligent, may have been romantically or spiritually drawn to at some point, and by whom I constantly feel challenged and rejected, something that both exhausts me and drives me to seek that person’s approval even further. I often feel a connection and a disconnection with this type at the exact same time.

Meanwhile, the INFJ is my “Contrast”; a relationship defined by point and counterpoint on each function. Three of my closest friends are INFJs, although the relationships haven’t been entirely conflict-free. They are, however, some of the strongest relationships in my life, marked by a seemingly easy level of emotional understanding and the ability to talk for hours. Two of these are the type of friends with whom I’m so close, I’ve wondered at various points in time, “Is this who I’m supposed to end up with?”

A friend that I play trivia with is someone I joke is the quiet version of me; although we’re very different, we think on the same wavelength. We have the same annoying habits of interrupting people and thinking tangentially and getting carried away from the point of things. We can complete one another’s sentences, get on the same train of thought very easily, and know what the other person means through seemingly random words or gestures. We’ve had maybe one disagreement that lasted for all of 5 minutes in all the time we’ve known one another. Not surprisingly, he is an INFP, very close to me on the personality spectrum. Our relationship? We’re meant to be “Pals”, people who work and play well together, and have minimal natural type conflict.

The Guy I Am Currently Dating is quite opposite of my personality type, an ISTP. Our relationship is defined as a “Novelty”, something I didn’t necessarily like hearing, until I saw the definition was “intriguingly different; interestingly so.”. That’s not such a bad thing; I like intrigue and interest.

However, there are some instances where the test is just plain wrong. An old friend of mine, one with whom I naturally get on extremely well with little effort, who rarely offends me or hurts my feelings despite being both rational and direct, identified himself today as an ESTP. M-B describes our relationship as an “Enigma”, someone who is a puzzle and foreign in every facet. I find this couldn’t be further from how we interact; we actually understand one another quite easily. He mentioned perhaps he should take the test again, and I’d agree. ;) It doesn’t get everyone correctly. *laughs*

The question is, if each type has a different relationship, which is most likely to be compatible with you in terms of love, romance, or long-term relationships of any sort?

Here’s what I learned about me and my personal relationships: “Although two well-developed individuals of any type can enjoy a healthy relationship, ENFP’s natural partner is the INTJ, or the INFJ. ENFP’s dominant function of Extraverted Intuition is best matched with a partner whose dominant function is Introverted Intuition.”

So, yeah…those friends I fight with, feel challenged by, sometimes engage in relationships that are emotionally draining or end in chaos, but still can talk to for hours on end and relate to without effort…well, those are really the people who are most naturally suited to be in my life. It’s the ones I gravitate towards almost by instinct, no matter how little sense it seems to make.

It seems I actually do really well with finding people who are intuitive matches for me. They’re often the friendships that are confusing on some level, because they don’t always end up as platonic that should be. I have “history” with most of my INTJ and INFJ friends, but in the end, they’re still some of my closest friends and confusing relationships. They are the people who either stay in my life through everything, or leave slamming doors and hurling hurtful condemnations that aren’t ever forgotten. Only time ever tells which it will be.

But I’m glad the test doesn’t know everything, because it never would have matched me up with The Guy I Am Currently Dating, and we’d have missed out on a whole lot. :) Sometimes, novelties last a really long time…*laughs*