Confessions of an INFJ in Love
Photo by sheri silver on Unsplash
INFJ love runs deep, and my love has not proven to be an exception. It’s true that when I was in middle school, I went through a phase where I had a different crush practically every month. And I have had a few passing crushes over the years. But when I fall in love—deep in love—all traces of superficiality vanish.
I haven’t yet found my life partner, nor have I ever been in a real relationship. But I know enough of INFJ love to make the following five confessions.
5 Confessions of an INFJ in Love
I used to disregard things that shouldn’t be tolerated in a romantic partner.
I know it’s important not to highlight every flaw people have since we all have some. But the problem with overlooking, for example, a tendency to cause pain is that, if you find that tendency in someone you love, you open yourself up to that much more heartache.
I didn’t understand that before. I would just ignore that imperfection and hope things would improve on their own. But they often didn’t.
If he was unresponsive on the phone, I’d overlook that. If he didn’t pay much attention to me at an event he invited me to, I’d disregard that. If he said insensitive things to me, I’d ignore that. Whatever pain he caused, I would overlook it or tolerate it or ignore it. And that meant more pain was sure to come—pain that would also be discounted.
I always want to be willing to forgive, but I’ve also learned about the importance of setting boundaries. Now I have lines that, if crossed, mean the end of any potential for a romantic relationship—unless the person shows a serious and sincere commitment to change. Otherwise we can’t be any more than friends.
I’ve learned that you can forgive someone and continue to love them, but not romantically—though it’s taken me years to get to that place.My dreams and interests would come second to those of the person I loved.
I’ve noticed that when I love someone, I gradually stop thinking about my dreams and how I hope to accomplish them and instead focus on his dreams and how I can help him accomplish them. I start trying to figure out how my life will fit into his and I try to like what he’s interested in, sometimes forgetting my interests and myself along the way.
Of course, it’s always a good idea to try new things. But I don’t like the thought of losing who you are to fit someone else’s concept of who you should be. And yet, I’ve found myself doing that far too often.
Here’s an example, one I also mention in this post. Some years ago, I fell in love with a boy who was religiously conservative. (I used to be religiously conservative, too, but he was even more conservative than I was.) At the time, I had written a novella I didn’t think he’d approve of. So, what did I do? I destroyed it. I shredded that novella and all its drafts.
All I kept was one poem from it and a few pages I had printed but forgotten about during the purge. And this person I loved was someone I hadn’t even met. I just didn’t want that story lying around in case he miraculously showed up at my door one day.
I try not to have too many regrets, but sometimes I wish I could see that novella again, even if I never decided whether to publish it. If I really want to, though, I can always rewrite it—even better this time.
(I’ve actually rewritten a version of this story, but it doesn’t come close to the original. I haven’t yet decided if that’s a task I’m willing to undertake.)I used to do most of the giving in my relationship with this person.
It took me several years to notice this trend. Every time I’ve taken a special interest in someone, I’ve always been the one to do the initial approaching. I’ve been the one to encourage further communication. I’ve been the one to reveal my feelings first.
As the relationship progressed, I’ve been the one to show up for momentous events in his life. I’ve been the one to buy him presents. And I’ve agreed to do him favors. But those favors were never returned. I never received any presents from those boys. And I’m still hoping for that someone who’ll be willing to initiate something.
True, some guys have done easy things like calling and asking if we could go to the movies. But they were never there for me when I needed them to be, especially in person.
They may have taken a phone call when I sought emotional support, but they weren’t physically there during some of the hardest times of my life. In fact, instead of easing my stress, they often contributed to it.
I know we’re living in a time when our ideas about masculine and feminine roles in relationships change daily, but I don’t think it’s ever right for one side to do all or most of the giving. So, from now on, I intend to be more mindful about how much effort I put into relationships.
It’s in my nature to give a lot to the person I love. But I’m searching for someone who’s willing to give a lot, too.I would keep my promises to the person I loved, even if it meant inconveniencing myself or others.
Once, when I was in middle school, I wanted to go to the movies with a boy I hoped to date someday. The problem was, I knew my mom wouldn’t want me to go alone with him, and I couldn’t find any available friends to go with. I could have called to cancel, but I had already promised I would go. I was determined to keep that promise.
Not long before I was supposed to be at the theater, I called a friend who had gone to the pool earlier that day to see if she had come back. She had just stepped in when I called.
“I’ll be at your house in five minutes,” I told her. “Bye.”
And then I hung up. And my mom and I managed to swing by her house and make it to the theater on time.
It’s probably because I was overwhelmed by all the feelings swirling inside me that day, but I have no recollection of how my friend felt about being dragged to the movies moments after getting back from the pool. I’m sure she was exhausted.
But like a true friend, she shoved her exhaustion aside to be there for me. And I’m really grateful for that. (I’m also really sorry about the inconvenience!)
Fortunately, since this incident, I have become much more sensitive to people’s emotions. So, hopefully nothing like this will ever happen again. But, really, there’s no telling what crazy things I’ll do when I’m in love.I don’t go outside my comfort zone easily, but I will for this person.
This one definitely has its upside and downside. On the one hand, it has pushed me to try things I never otherwise would have, like playing soccer. (I’m terrible, by the way, but at least I tried.)
On the other hand, it has led to some uncomfortable situations. For instance, when I was in high school, I once went to a youth recreational evening at the church of the boy I loved even though I didn’t really know most of the people who would be there. I was just hoping to see him, even if it meant entering a room filled with strangers.
But he wasn’t there. Instead, I spent the first part of the evening awkwardly propped against a wall as I searched for someone to talk to. Eventually I found a few people, but the outcome of my venture outside my comfort zone was not what I wanted.
I don’t see any harm in having new experiences, whatever the reason. But I’ve learned that you’re more likely to be disappointed if you only do it for someone else, hoping for a particular reaction or response. I now think you should try new things for you. That way, your only expectation is to see what happens.
Final Thoughts
INFJ love is deep and intense. And while INFJs do tend to experience love in a similar way, every INFJ has a unique story or stories to tell.
These are my five confessions of an INFJ in love, accompanied by what I’ve learned as a result of loving so intensely. Can any of you INFJs relate? And do you have anything you’d like to confess?
~ Ashley C.
P.S. If you’re an INFJ or someone who loves deeply and you would like tips and advice about crushes, unrequited love, and the search for a romantic partner, feel free to join “The INFJ Search for Love” newsletter!
Last updated: July 1, 2024