Talkin’ to me, an infj

I used to say this a lot:

But then someone began to ask and I realised that I didn’t want that. I wanted the blissful silence of someone not asking me things. The tingling sensation of someone waiting for me to speak and inviting me in. I found out, I have rules about when I speak and when I don’t and they aren’t all as simple as “don’t ask, I won’t tell”.

Later as I continued I found out that there is even more out there to see. If you cross my lines, if you push me too far, there is the blessed, silent, emotional door slam.

My mum knows this so well as she has seen me do this to so many people. Yet, I didn’t acknowledge it until after I found out about the infj personality. 

….I didn’t acknowledge most of myself because …if I’m this person…this person who is deep, often vindictive when hurt, has their own world, is rare and thus misunderstood, and so many other things….it means that this is who I am and nothing I do will change me. I am stuck, like this, not until I do a-b-c-and-d…this is who I am.

….and I have no idea how to be me in this world without being someone else.

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