Super

I recently had to retake the Myers-Briggs for a volunteer gig that I'm contemplating. It seemed like an odd thing to have to do, but I like the organization and was willing to take it for them.

I got an INFJ.

I always get an INFJ.

I've taken the Myers-Briggs tons of times and regardless of the mood I'm in, what's happened recently, or the time in my life, I always get an INFJ.

***

As a kid I read comics intermittently, as I could get my hands on them. I loved loved X-Men (Holy Hannah, Jean Grey. How could you be a budding feminist and not love X-Men?). I was a dreamy, not-terribly-down to Earth kind of a kid, apt to lose myself in reading or games that I played alone. 

I grew into an equally dreamy adult. 

I was also a terribly shy, incredibly introverted kid in a family that (like everyone) prized extroversion and the ability to be outgoing under almost any circumstances. My father, who can (and will) start a conversation with anyone could not (and maybe still doesn't entirely) seem to understand my desire to go through life simply being left alone. 

He and my mom had whispered conversations about whether or not I was a loner. 

They also, I suspect, worried about my inclination toward geeky things. Harry Potter and comics, The X-Files and Tolkien. I distinctly remember a look that passed between the two of them after they had taken me to see The Fellowship of the Ring and I enumerated the ways in which the book was different on the car-ride home. 

Retrospectively, I feel for them. They were raising a nerd without being nerds themselves. My adolescence would have been a little bit less rocky for all of us if I had either turned up as a jock or a delinquent rather than the the quiet, bookish, rule-following kid I was. 

Like a lot of social out-casty, nerdy types, I found  a lot of solace in SFF and comics. I liked to fantasize about one day discovering my mutation or finding out I had a superpower. It got me through the tough moments of adolescence. I secretly believed that there was something special about me. That I would be able to save the world because there was something specific about me that would enable me to do things other people couldn't. 

I think I always imagined that I would grow out of my interest in SFF and comics. That when I turned into an adult I'd start reading and watching adult things, like Anna Karenina and Citizen Kane. 

Ha.

***

"Hey!"

I'm on my way out of a fairly long evening. It's been a work networking thing and I've been smiling and chatting with different people all night. It's been incredibly fun evening, my cheeks actually hurt from smiling so much all night, but I am completely exhausted and not looking forward to a snowy, slippery drive home. 

One of the other attendees comes bolting out the door after me. I'm buttoning up my coat and weighing the pros and cons of getting a coffee before I leave when he accosts me.

"Hey!" 

I'm feeling considerably less bubbly than I did when I arrived, but I smile anyway and say "Yes?" 

He looks a little uncomfortable, like he didn't think out this encounter entirely before hailing me. "You're on Twitter under your real name, right? I mean, I'm not following someone else?"

My smile becomes considerably more genuine. "Yup. That's me. But you should really be following my work account to get a better idea of the role we fill in St. Paul."

Before I can tell him our Twitter handle he shakes his head and says. "No, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to ask you" he hesitates. He is obviously nervous and super uncomfortable. "Hey," I tell him "I can guarantee that I've said something weirder in the past 24 hours than whatever you want to say." 

He smiles and blurts out his thoughts "It's just . . . you Tweet so much about being an introvert. How did you do that?"

"Do what?" 

"You were amazing in there. I mean, it was crazy. I would've pegged you as an extrovert."

My smile genuinely grows again. This isn't the first time I've had this conversation, so I have an answer at hand. "I actually get that question a lot in professional settings, so it's not weird for you to ask at all." I can see him relax, and I forge ahead. "I really love the work I do. It's important for me to help other people understand why I'm so passionate about it. That makes it easy to talk about." 

I've given him something like the truth, and while it doesn't entirely satisfy him I can see an escape opening up. I extend my hand, give his a firm shake, and say "It was great to meet you. I'll see you again in a few weeks." 

I slip out the door and get into my car without scraping all the windows. Now that they're covered with snow, the car serves as a mini-sensory deprivation tank.

I just need a minute. 

***

I get a lot of (affectionate, I think) ribbing from my friends about the amount of feelings I have and the intensity of those feelings. At this point, I think we all accept that it's the way I'm hard-wired and there's nothing I can do about it. 

Well, that's not quite right. 

I do spend a lot of time trying to tone things down. I keep a fair amount of my geeky enthusiasm for things under wraps until I know someone well enough to let that side out. I am not an easy person to be friends with because I will rhapsodize on any number of odd things. When there's a project about which I am passionate, I will dig in with everything I've got, sometimes to the detriment of my own health. I am weirdly in touch with my own emotions and hyper-respectful of anyone else's. I am easily frustrated when others don't react as intensely to something or quickly notice when someone is upset or hurting. 

I've said it before, but it merits repeating. Going through the world hard-wired like this makes me feel a little bit like a freak-show. Because I simply feel things so much and am apt to get so passionate about things that I think matter (modern feminism, jazz, ending domestic violence and sexual assault) I suspect  know that it's difficult for other people to relate. 

It can be a surprisingly lonely way to go through the world.

***

I am ohmygodbeyondexcited for the new Captain America movie.  

I love Captain America. 

Oh my God, how could I not? I'm a history geek with a super-hero fetish of course I love Captain America. 

There's also, you know, a little bit of the fantasy in the Steve Rodgers to Captain American transition, that those of us who are less than our best can somehow be transformed into the best possible version of ourselves. 

Maybe I never entirely grew out of wanting to have a superpower. 

***

It turns out that, as far as Myers-Briggs is concerned, INFJ's tend to be sort of rare.

It's something I discover after this last round of personality testing. I actually read the information the well-meaning volunteers give me rather than simply ripping it to pieces and using it for notepaper. I'm a little shocked by what I read, and how accurate a description of my personality it is. Turns out I'm an odd combination of idealism and decisiveness, profoundly introverted with the ability to communicate passionately, intensely (especially via the written word!) about the things that matter to me.

When I finally get out of the car to scrape the windows down, I think about the guy I just talked to inside and his observation that I seem like a pretty extroverted-introvert and I think about my passion for esoterica and the weird intensity I apparently display when I'm talking about something that interests me. I reflect a little on the evening I just spent and how bone-tired I am at the moment and how much good I did by simply talking about something that moves me.

And when I get in the car and hear and advertisement for The Winter Soldier I start to think a lot about superpowers. About how as a little girl and as a teenager, and yes, even as an adult, I want(ed) to have world-saving superpowers.

I feel corny for even thinking it, but I wonder if this weird mash-up of personality traits just maybe might be my own version of a superpower. It's certainly not as cool as telekinesis or the ability to move between dimensions, and I'll never be able to save the whole world from certain destruction, but the ability to get people excited about ending domestic and sexual violence, the capacity to recognize when someone is upset or hurt or furious (especially when they might not recognize it), that's gotta be worth something.