A Girl in the World

psychology

I’m a type 7, what are you?

March 22, 2010

In high school, girl friends and I would obsessively take those “How great of a lover are you?” tests in trashy magazines like Cosmopolitan, Allure or Vogue.  Actually, we became hyper obsessed with Cosmo specifically, because it was racy, gratuitous and sexy – everything that we were not.  I was a real dork in high school.  Dork, dork, dork.  I chose to go to a school way on the other side of the city purely because it offered the International Baccalaureate program (kind of like A.P. but geekier).  It’s the kind of program that lets you take university level English, Chemistry and Physics during the 11th grade because it’s supposed to make a difference in your life.  It did not.  It just stole time away from things I would rather have done, like sports, art and music.  But whatever.  I digress.

According to Cosmo, I was supposed to be a passionate lover, an emotional girl friend and a sophisticated fashionista.  All at the tender age of 16.  I have no idea why we cared so much about these stupid questionnaires.  We’d take them during Math class and discuss during lunch.  Maybe it was some form of escapism.  Had I really french kissed enough boys to be able to determine my kissing style?  NO.  Had I had enough boyfriends to determine how I’d react to cheating?  Nope.  Had I cared enough about fashion to determine whether I was a Chanel girl vs. a Gucci girl?  Of course not.  But somehow, it made us feel normal – diagnosed into one of three possible types and that felt good.  It felt good to feel understood.  Aha!  I’m not crazy!  The magazine knows exactly why I act the way I do!  That describes me exactly!

And you’d think I’d outgrown this strange desire to be “classified” by some third-party quiz.  But no.  About a year ago, I became obsessed with Myers Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) quizzes.  These were especially gratifying.  I’m apparently an ENFP (Extroverted Intuitive Feeling Perceiving) type – led by emotion and intuition, an enthusiastic people person, dreamy and aspirational… blah blah blah.  I would forward some version of the free online test to everyone I knew, including the boy I was dating at the time (who is now my boyfriend).  Somehow, I felt that I could understand people more if I knew their type.  I’d start conversations with questions like, “What Myers Briggs type are you?  I bet you’re an INTJ.  Am I right?”.  I’d be shocked to find out that many people, most people, hadn’t even heard of the test.  Really?!  Why not?!  It’s the secret to discovering your true self!

Well, I was forwarded another personality test just a few days ago.  This one is the Enneagram Test and it classifies people into 8 different types.  I’m a tie between a Type 3 and a Type 7.  And overwhelmingly so.  You can score a maximum of eight points for any one type.  I scored a seven on both.  And I am actually a little concerned.  How am I two different personality types at once?  Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  Ying and Yang.  Am I fighting with myself?!  One type is success-oriented and pragmatic.  The other is variety-seeking and spontaneous.  While one necessarily requires focus, the other thrives on being undisciplined.  While one is status-conscious, the other is scattered.  How can I possibly be both?!  Equally?!  This is supposed to help me understand myself.  I do not understand!  Make me understand!

What type are you?

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Bricklaying – the (insane) psychology of women

February 23, 2010

A friend forwarded this article on USA Today that talks about what makes people happy.  In summary there are three things:  1) the amount of time we spend with family and friends, 2) giving to others, and 3) time spent in a state of “flow” or mindfulness, where you get so lost in a task that you’re doing, you forget time.  Three very simple things that can make a huge difference in our daily lives.

I’ve been working a lot on number 1.  The friend and family time these last few weeks has definitely been good for me.  I feel so peaceful, so loved, so … happy.  The shared meals, walks in the park, and talks over coffee have all brought a simple abundance in my life – something that I was at risk of losing sight of while gallivanting around the world.

During these great dinner/coffee dates, friends and I inevitably talk about random interesting things: social media, technology, careers, family, fears, hopes and, of course, relationships.  And the relationship talks always end up being the most engrossing!  Recently, a friend and I had an invaluable conversation about the (insane) psychology of women.

I call it bricklaying.

While doling out advice, as we so often do without being asked, I cited an example familiar to all men and women, young and old.  It happens in movies, in sitcoms, in restaurants next door.

It’s date night.  You, the woman (I’m going to write this in the woman’s point of view), spent a good portion of the late afternoon perfecting your outfit.  Black dress, red pumps and that just-long-enough necklace that dares him to look where he isn’t supposed to.  You’ve set up the purposeful tease.  You look hot.  You are seated at dinner, holding hands, staring into each other’s eyes, making small talk.  Your heart is a flutter.  You’re talking about your crazy week at work, your friend’s new haircut and this weekend’s plans.  He’s attentive, smiling, sweet.  And then the cute waitress walks by your table, and his eyes follow her very short skirt.  In less than a second, you go from being totally in love to totally hating him.  Oh how you hate him!  Did he not notice your dress?!  Your necklace?  The new way you did your hair?  THE NERVE he has to go and check out another woman while you’re mid-sentence trying to explain the intricacies of brown hair highlights vs. auburn.  YOU HATE HIM.  But you smile.  And you brush it off.  You let him think that he was stealth and smooth.  That you didn’t notice him noticing her.  The rest of dinner goes by fine.  Fine.  Fine.  Fine.  But now, just for the heck of it, you feel like picking a fight.  Maybe it’s because you’re hurt about the waitress.  But he doesn’t know that, and frankly, you probably don’t realize that your desire to start a fight stems from that moment too.  You’re just sad, mad, insecure, hurt and somehow, without sounding like a total lunatic, you need to let him know.  So, you pick a fight.  About something dumb.  Like that one time, last year when he forgot to open the car door for you.  And the rest of the evening is shot.

You win the fight (only because he can’t understand what it was about in the first place) but you’re still hurt.  And at the end of the day, you add a few bricks to the wall that you’re building to protect yourself.  It’s that wall that slowly closes you off from being totally open and honest with him, the wall that will get bigger and bigger by the day unless you go and do something about it (i.e. talk to him honestly about what has been bothering you), it’s the wall that will inevitably pull you two apart permanently.

Bricklaying is insane.  But we women do it.  And somewhere, sometime, that wall becomes so big (over weeks, months, maybe even decades) that no man can scale it, no matter how hard he tries.

It is scary.  And depressing (as quoted from one of my guy friends).

So, what do we do about it?

STOP BUILDING THE WALL!

Stop the bricklaying behaviour altogether girls!  How about some good ol’ honest talking?  The heart-to-heart.  The sit-down conversation.  Oh heck, even the crazy big yelling match!  All of it is better than the silent bricklaying behaviour that drives us all insane!

How do boys deal with their jealousies and insecurities and pent-up hurts?  Gym? Shooting range? Sports?  Booze?  Insights anyone?

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