Has it occurred to you that being the rarest type comes with a lot of baggage?
I thought that being bestowed with our cognitive functions could have a lot to offer us as we navigate a world that refuses to look at the world through a lens of foresight.
You see, being an INFJ is as if you’re living in a universe that is all your own. You’re living in multiple universes all at once, looking at 20 million different outcomes to every situation that is going on in your life and it’s not only your own circumstances you’re engaged in, but also everyone else’s. It’s tiring to know that situations you think about, both positive and negative, can be almost lucid to us where we feel pain and loss even if it hasn’t happened.
What kills us is that we know what may happen and refuse to have enough faith in ourselves and others to lock our own happiness into a box that we cannot control because the world takes many twists and turns. Too many times though, after everything is said and done, we knew where those twists and turns would ultimately take us, and all too often, it isn’t anywhere nice or comforting but rather, it is a prison of emotional death.
Before I found out how my brain functioned, I thought I was completely locked into anxiety and depressive cycles of good and bad times. I had absolutely no reasons why to feel his way because I had it all, an amazing childhood, wonderful parents, and all of the attention I could ever want and need. Yet, for some odd reason, here I was, growing up, feeling alone, desperate to be understood, and a perfectionist to a fault. I was always weeding out, cutting people out of my life, and happily doing so confidently first before they decided to do the same and take away a part of my identity along with my secrets. I needed to show people that I was to be respected, by disappearing completely without explanation or contempt. I did this as being the only way I could show them exactly one boundary they could never cross because I refused to put up any smaller ones on my own during our time together as friends.
So why do people paint out your typical INFJ to be something magical?
There’s power in numbers (or a lack thereof). Being that we are only a solid 1% of souls, others simply look at it as an identifier of uniqueness. If I could choose to be anything else, I would be. If I could have a Te as my first or second function that would be fantastic. I could simply look at everything with objectivity and rationale and figure out how to live my life accordingly to simple principles that lacked any form of absorption. Overanalyzing everything would be pointless.
If only. We see everything that’s coming.
I am not saying that I despise who I am, nor that I hate being an INFJ. I am only stating the obvious. I am simply saying that life would be so much easier in all ways. I would not have to think twice about making friends, whether or not the relationships I am in will last a lifetime, why someone said something, did something, reacted a certain way, made a certain facial expression, who in my life will last another day, and whether or not they are to be trusted.
The burden we carry is one of intuition, of feeling, of sensitivity, of thinking.
Although I have figured out that the cycles I put myself in are now under my control and I manage them very well, I still decide to be a time traveler time and time again because I can’t help it. It’s who I am and I would be depriving myself of my own authenticity if I gave up the same identity that has caused so many people in my life to come and go.
I made the affirmation to take my own hand into the unknown and deal with challenges as they come, unafraid to complicate life and make others question exactly how complacent emotionally they really are.
The INFJ mission is a difficult one and is shared by the very few who regard their own truth as something novel to bring into this world. 
The INFJ Thought Café 