INFJs, how did your folks treat you when you were children?

[just me]

INFJs, how did your folks treat you when you were children?

Leaving out their traits and shortcomings, they treated me very well. We were poor, but it just made things easier. I couldn't have asked to be treated more fairly or with more understanding, and the time spent with me was way above what I could have ever asked for. Even my stepdad treated me with respect and honor. I am blessed.
Can't say that for all my peers, friends, and others; but, I wanted it that way. I asked to be treated normally, and was done so. The many fond memories, and wisdom, has helped me to overcome any shortcoming: though few. I thank them.

 

[Anomaly]

This is much a post of self reflection about my own family of origin and psychopathology. I didn't start out as an INFJ, I actualy started out as ISFJ in 2014, and from 2016 - 2020 for the most part i was INFP, now after that tumultuous journey, i've solidified my type as an INFJ.

How was everyone else's experience? I'm curious about parental influence on how that has shaped some of us to become INFJ. My folks never really addressed hard issues. I never had an honest talk with them and i didn't know how to until recently when i had to learn that skill myself.

My dad was for the most part, someone who provided dough. He's good at that, but not so much relationships. And for my mum, i've pretty much maintain a distance with my mother, whom even up to this day, has little self awareness about the toxic and unhealthy rhetoric she spews out, (things which inconvenience her and the sacrifice she has given toward the family, and how it affects her in her tunnel vision.

How about the rest of you guys?

I was the oldest in a single-mother household. I was expected to be her partner, to be her shoulder, to be her helpmeet, and to rise to the occasion when hope was a rare commodity. My father was absent, a mere figurehead looming on the distance like a billowy sail that I idealized, and came to realize that he was actually the incorporeal wind that blew in from the East to unsettle our waters. My mother was exhausted from working two jobs, and we rarely had enough food on the table. So, at 13 I got a job to help make ends meet, and we humbled ourselves into the gracious hands of the generous. Nothing was sure, nothing was steady. We moved every few years. She had different partners coming in and out of our lives. We experienced a multitude of traumas, stemming from various life-decisions none of which were within my control. Then, around age 14, my father returned into our lives briefly, introducing us to his new wife, and his beautiful one year old daughter. This was the first time I had seen him in 10 years. Decades later, and I still recall the moment that I noted the inefficacy of my own will towards my existence.

My mom struggles to demonstrate emotions, choosing to remain strong, and I've only seen her cry three times in my life (once out of pure frustration). My father (whom I reconnected with in my early 20's) prioritizes friends and pursuit of the material, in place of familial connection. I've seen how these pursuits have come full circle, and now represent all of the empty seats around his table. The regret written in the lines of his face is undeniable. So, while there is this innate desire for harmony that exists in everything I do or say, there is also this underlying rage that bubbles beneath the surface, waiting to escape. I suppress it, deny it, and distract myself in order not to deal with it, as conflict means I have to tear open wounds that have developed layer upon layer of scar tissue. Perhaps, this gives some insight to how some of these experiences shaped my current state of being.

 

[Wyote]

So, while there is this innate desire for harmony that exists in everything I do or say, there is also this underlying rage that bubbles beneath the surface, waiting to escape. I suppress it, deny it, and distract myself in order not to deal with it, as conflict means I have to tear open wounds that have developed layer upon layer of scar tissue. Perhaps, this gives some insight to how some of these experiences shaped my current state of being.

Spoiler

 

[mintoots]

I was the oldest in a single-mother household. I was expected to be her partner, to be her shoulder, to be her helpmeet, and to rise to the occasion when hope was a rare commodity. My father was absent, a mere figurehead looming on the distance like a billowy sail that I idealized, and came to realize that he was actually the incorporeal wind that blew in from the East to unsettle our waters. My mother was exhausted from working two jobs, and we rarely had enough food on the table. So, at 13 I got a job to help make ends meet, and we humbled ourselves into the gracious hands of the generous. Nothing was sure, nothing was steady. We moved every few years. She had different partners coming in and out of our lives. We experienced a multitude of traumas, stemming from various life-decisions none of which were within my control. Then, around age 14, my father returned into our lives briefly, introducing us to his new wife, and his beautiful one year old daughter. This was the first time I had seen him in 10 years. Decades later, and I still recall the moment that I noted the inefficacy of my own will towards my existence.

My mom struggles to demonstrate emotions, choosing to remain strong, and I've only seen her cry three times in my life (once out of pure frustration). My father (whom I reconnected with in my early 20's) prioritizes friends and pursuit of the material, in place of familial connection. I've seen how these pursuits have come full circle, and now represent all of the empty seats around his table. The regret written in the lines of his face is undeniable. So, while there is this innate desire for harmony that exists in everything I do or say, there is also this underlying rage that bubbles beneath the surface, waiting to escape. I suppress it, deny it, and distract myself in order not to deal with it, as conflict means I have to tear open wounds that have developed layer upon layer of scar tissue. Perhaps, this gives some insight to how some of these experiences shaped my current state of being.

I look forward to your blog, should you ever come around and start one here some day.

 

[Anomaly]

Spoiler

Haha. Sorry to figuratively 'hit you over the head'. ;p

 

[Wyote]

Haha. Sorry to figuratively 'hit you over the head'. ;p

Oh. No it's the other way around. I'm knocking the sleeping anger out of you

 

[Anomaly]

I look forward to your blog, should you ever come around and start one here some day.

I will consider it. Thank you for your interest.

 

[Anomaly]

Oh. No it's the other way around. I'm knocking the sleeping anger out of you

Haha. It will take far more than this to get me there. It's in my unconscious and comes out in the most inconvenient of times.

 

[Anomaly]

The contents of this thread stuck with me throughout the day and so I suppose I must write about my parents more lucidly as if I haven't written enough. I was perfectly loved as a child. My mother wanted me such that she went through hoops to have me even in an uncertain relationship. She married my father hastily---- exactly six months from when they met again. She reasoned that since they knew each other since high school, it was counted as knowing each other long enough despite never really being together since.

I know I was wanted because my bed time stories had been about how they met, and how she prayed to God to let her have me. She prayed and was answered through dreams, she said. I knew she loved me. It was in the way she took care of me. Over time, my mother's career had blossomed as her relationship with my father dissipated completely. I don't know my father intimately. I was 35 when I learned he knew how to play the guitar and was a great singer. I vaguely remember my mother mentioning it to me on one of those bed time stories. She anticipated I'd sing well because everybody from my father's family sang well. At least this is what I remember.

As I grew up, I was treated more as an adult and less a kid. I had a taste of independence when I was six when I was allowed to walk home from the community daycare without a chaperone. I was eight when I was allowed to do the same even when I was transferred to the big school. I took public transports and had my own wallet. At ten, I was in on huge decisions. By the time I was twelve, I was allowed to make the important decisions by myself: did I or did I not want to go to a more competitive high school? By this time, I was already managing my own allowance, which my mother made me account for with detailed liquidation and corresponding receipts. When I was fourteen, I was already her confidante. My mother and I had a relationship that evolved from mother and child to colleagues and equals and later to child and ill parent. It was a complete circle.

Suffice to say I was raised to be as independent as possible. She taught me to tuck my hardships in and to be steadfast in my decisions. She was gone a lot so she ended making up for lost time with material gifts, which is why it's not a surprise that I'm a bit averse to materialism. I was raised very lovingly in spite of all my issues.

I can see how the nurturing that your mother provided, and especially the freedom or supplanting of responsibility to be autonomous influences you now. The type 1 part of your identity seems fitting. I'm glad that you can see the best parts of all that she did for you, despite the loneliness of being a child cast into an adult world. You seem to have taken each responsibility in stride, holding your head up, standing on your own two feet. I respect you for this.

 

[mintoots]

I can see how the nurturing that your mother provided, and especially the freedom or supplanting of responsibility to be autonomous influences you now. The type 1 part of your identity seems fitting. I'm glad that you can see the best parts of all that she did for you, despite the loneliness of being a child cast into an adult world. You seem to have taken each responsibility in stride, holding your head up, standing on your own two feet. I respect you for this.

I could say the same for you, for being your mother's partner. Also, thanks. We do what we can with what life has given us. I understand my mother in that she knew I could be left alone ay anytime should anything ever happen to her so she was simply making sure I'd be okay if that should happen.

 

[Anomaly]

I could say the same for you, for being your mother's partner. Also, thanks. We do what we can with what life has given us. I understand my mother in that she knew I could be left alone ay anytime should anything ever happen to her so she was simply making sure I'd be okay if that should happen.

I'm glad she had this foresight, and prepared you for the inevitable. Yes, we relate a bit in our experiences, so a pattern is forming as far as I can tell.

 

[Anomaly]

@mintoots , I think I was correct in that ^ statement. You inspire me, and I relate to you in many ways. I always appreciate each thoughtful response you provide for others, even if admiring in 'secret'. I like how you think. Thought I should let you know. : )

 

[mintoots]

@mintoots , I think I was correct in that ^ statement. You inspire me, and I relate to you in many ways. I always appreciate each thoughtful response you provide for others, even if admiring in 'secret'. I like how you think. Thought I should let you know. : )

Wow. I'm a bit surprised by this. Haha. I'm not really all that... I'm mean and faulty in many ways. This forum is a haze so it's a tricky thing to believe all the time, but I do appreciate this gesture. Also, believe it or not the interest is truly mutual. I'm particularly intrigued by your brevity and the way you embody your femininity and sensuality. There is a grace about the way you move about the forum that keeps me observing, secretly. LMAO.

 

[Anomaly]

Wow. I'm a bit surprised by this. Haha. I'm not really all that... I'm mean and faulty in many ways. This forum is a haze so it's a tricky thing to believe all the time, but I do appreciate this gesture. Also, believe it or not the interest is truly mutual. I'm particularly intrigued by your brevity and the way you embody your femininity and sensuality. There is a grace about the way you move about the forum that keeps me observing, secretly. LMAO.

Haha. I think we must be quietly 'stalking' one another in this regard, not so quietly now. I appreciate your comment, it tickled me very much. <3

 

[ESC2367]

My life started with an abusive father, and a nurturing mother. My dad shifted from physical to emotional after i spoke out to my psychologist about how he spanked me. (it was not those disaplinary spanks. no this was unleashing anger)

After he started emotional abuse, this equated to my being more and more reclusive. (aside the fact that i was never shown kindness outside of my mom and neighbor friends.)

I only had musiccand cartoons to turn to... until he took that away... i then ran away.

Once i came out... my mom supported me. My dad made it his sole purpose to traumatize me from being my self.

-_- no one understands my dad is not misunderstood.... no he is evil. And having everyone think it is just him doing things for my safety, has no idea...

I still live in my parents basement at age 35. I deal with how they are now; like all my cptsd is a hoax.

However... i think he is beginning to see how much he traumatized me... as i have barely left the house these past 8 years.

(i left a book long thing out about him...)

My mom, has always been nice to me. Even when i was rebelous. She's an ENFJ. :3

I have a hard time with love. I never was shown it except through film and music.

I was raised my film and music because everywhere in reality was way too hard to deal with.

Sorry, if it was too harsh...

 

[David W]

This is a painful thread to read from start to finish. I thought my family was bad, until I read all these other stories.

Actually, my family was bad. My father was a narcissist, my mother his enabler, and my brother (a few years older than me) had undiagnosed autism spectrum disorder. I had no one to talk to.

My brother was the family scapegoat, the target of my father's frequent temper outbursts. I became the invisible child, doing my best to avoid attention. I was largely successful in avoiding my father's wrath, but I was scared, confused, and terribly lonely.

I was lucky, though, that my father paid for my college education. With my degree, I was able to get started on a good career. I got a job, moved into my own apartment, and found a therapist.

I can’t be sure, but I don't think my childhood experience made me an INFJ. I think that I came into the world that way. It probably helped me survive the chaos, in that I was able to have some insight into the madness and build some protective walls to hide behind. One ongoing theme of my adult life has been learning to take down those walls.

My Ni developed first. By my early teen years, I knew that I was able to understand complicated issues more deeply than most. I developed a knack for sussing out hidden relationships and inferring missing information. I was fascinated by science, and later music. I read my way through the astronomy section of the school library.

My Fe was squelched as a child, since feelings (other than my father’s rage) were not permitted. My father was a champion at rationalizing away emotion. It was not until my twenties, with the help of a therapist, that I learned that I was good at relating to other people’s feelings, and could use that to fit in and be accepted.

The most difficult thing for me as been to understand my own feelings. It took a long time before I understood how much I was hurt by my family circumstances. I’m still on a quest to understand myself better.

 

[Anomaly]

This is a painful thread to read from start to finish. I thought my family was bad, until I read all these other stories.

Actually, my family was bad. My father was a narcissist, my mother his enabler, and my brother (a few years older than me) had undiagnosed autism spectrum disorder. I had no one to talk to.

My brother was the family scapegoat, the target of my father's frequent temper outbursts. I became the invisible child, doing my best to avoid attention. I was largely successful in avoiding my father's wrath, but I was scared, confused, and terribly lonely.

I was lucky, though, that my father paid for my college education. With my degree, I was able to get started on a good career. I got a job, moved into my own apartment, and found a therapist.

I can’t be sure, but I don't think my childhood experience made me an INFJ. I think that I came into the world that way. It probably helped me survive the chaos, in that I was able to have some insight into the madness and build some protective walls to hide behind. One ongoing theme of my adult life has been learning to take down those walls.

My Ni developed first. By my early teen years, I knew that I was able to understand complicated issues more deeply than most. I developed a knack for sussing out hidden relationships and inferring missing information. I was fascinated by science, and later music. I read my way through the astronomy section of the school library.

My Fe was squelched as a child, since feelings (other than my father’s rage) were not permitted. My father was a champion at rationalizing away emotion. It was not until my twenties, with the help of a therapist, that I learned that I was good at relating to other people’s feelings, and could use that to fit in and be accepted.

The most difficult thing for me as been to understand my own feelings. It took a long time before I understood how much I was hurt by my family circumstances. I’m still on a quest to understand myself better.

I understand the pain of dealing with a narcissistic father. In many ways, I was spared when he abandoned our family when I was young, but in adulthood I've experienced his guilt-trips, and gas-lighting. I am saddened that you had to deal with these things throughout your childhood, David. However, I think you are strong, and resilient. I admire you for seeking healthy ways to process and deal with what you've experienced as you continue to heal from past wounds and mechanisms.

Like you, I lost myself in Sciences (Astronomy as well) at a young age. I got my first telescope when I was around 6 or 7 (paid for by selling lemonade on the street lol). I escaped in the stars. I still do. I go outside at night to destress, to stare at the expanse of sky, to wax and wane across the moon's surface. What led you to Astronomy?

Thank you for sharing your experience. I'm glad you are finding yourself, settling into who you are including those facets of yourself which were hidden or repressed. I look forward to reading more of your writing here on the forum.

 

[David W]

Like you, I lost myself in Sciences (Astronomy as well) at a young age. I got my first telescope when I was around 6 or 7 (paid for by selling lemonade on the street lol). I escaped in the stars. I still do. I go outside at night to destress, to stare at the expanse of sky, to wax and wane across the moon's surface. What led you to Astronomy?

That's very cool that you like astronomy, too. Maybe I'll start an I Love Astronomy thread to avoid hijacking this one.

 

[David W]

So, while there is this innate desire for harmony that exists in everything I do or say, there is also this underlying rage that bubbles beneath the surface, waiting to escape. I suppress it, deny it, and distract myself in order not to deal with it, as conflict means I have to tear open wounds that have developed layer upon layer of scar tissue.

I had this exact experience, distracting myself from the rage for a long time. One of the best things I ever did, with the help of a really good therapist, was to at long last open the door and let the rage come out in all it's glory. It was terrifying opening that door. I had to find a time and a place when I felt safe enough. But once it came out -- it wasn't so bad. Yes, it was a lot of pain and anger, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. It was a source of great strength knowing that I faced the demons and was okay.

 

[Anomaly]

That's very cool that you like astronomy, too. Maybe I'll start an I Love Astronomy thread to avoid hijacking this one.

I think you should. I'd frequent it to read your musings. : )