I have been trying to figure out my personality type for a long time, but I struggle to identify exactly which cognitive function is responsible for what—since many different functions could potentially account for any given action. So, I’ll share a bit of my life story and highlight some of the more crucial points.
I don’t remember much from when I was very young, but I have a vague recollection of saying "I can't" when faced with certain tasks (like going somewhere on my own or learning a new skill), even if I had barely—or never—actually tried. I learned to read, count, and write quite quickly and was well ahead of my peers; however, when it came to activities like building, cutting, or painting, I lagged a bit behind the other children at daycare. My mother described me as systematic and very cautious around the unknown when I was little. I used to be terrified of dogs, regardless of their size, but after spending time around the dogs my father kept in the countryside, I became great friends with them—in fact, I love dogs today. I wasn't consciously aware of this, but my mother once told me a story: when I was very small, my brother received a toy dog that could walk. One day, as I sat in a hallway, my brother activated the toy; it started moving toward me, and I became absolutely terrified. I’m not certain if this is the reason I developed such a fear of dogs, but it’s the only plausible explanation. Moving on to a more conscious stage (after the age of 6), one thing I really struggled with was saying "no" or doing anything that might displease others. A peer at the time would blackmail me, claiming he wouldn't be my friend anymore if I refused his requests; this would send me into a state of despair, though I didn't understand why. On one occasion, he asked me to give him my Spider-Man costume—naturally, my mother wouldn't allow it (it was an absurd request)—and I became extremely anxious. My mother eventually went to the school and addressed the matter with him. Even after it was resolved, I remained deeply concerned about our relationship and would try to reconcile whenever he started to pull away.
When I was 6, my parents separated; the reason given was that my father needed to look after cattle in the countryside. Between the ages of 8 and 12, I visited his place often. There was a woman there whom I assumed was a housekeeper; she always treated me well, and I liked her. Years later, they finally told me the truth: the breakup was caused by infidelity, and the "housekeeper" was actually my father’s new partner. He cried when he told me, and my reaction was to try to comfort him and forgive him at all costs—I’m not sure if it was because of his tears or something else. Looking back now, I see it this way: "He was unhappy, so he left. I don’t think what he did was right—I wouldn’t have done the same in his shoes—but it happened, and I just have to accept it." I continued visiting frequently for a while, but the experience lost some of its luster. What used to be fun and educational—playing with the animals, riding horses, and so on—began to feel more like work (in truth, it had always been work, but I had perceived it differently). The demands placed on me increased, and as I entered my pre-teen years—a time when you start questioning things and becoming more rebellious—my desire to go there gradually faded. Today, our relationship is quite lukewarm. I’ve since learned about other long-standing issues between my parents. I visit my father only occasionally; some days are great, while on others, I find myself thinking, "I should have just stayed home."
For a long time, I remained the same—constantly adapting to others instead of standing up for myself. I always tried to do the "right thing," but I never held others accountable or spoke up when something was wrong. By the time I reached high school, this approach led to my undoing; I was living on-site at the school, surrounded by students from many different towns.
The result was that my belongings were constantly being stolen. When I tried to stand up for myself—early on—I was nearly strangled, which only made my situation worse. It became deeply ingrained in me that trying to resist would just make everything worse. I was subjected to significant verbal bullying and excluded by the very people I shared a room with. Worst of all, I even blamed myself; I figured that if six people were against one, then that one person must be the one in the wrong. I got through the first year, then moved to a different room, though I had little hope that things would improve. A major turning point came during a conversation with GPT (yes, things were that bad)—it mentioned that "people do this for status." I’m well aware that AIs are designed to be agreeable, and I didn’t take everything it said too seriously, but that particular point really struck a chord. I started paying attention, and suddenly everything fell into place: nothing about their behavior was genuine. I was only in that situation because they wanted someone submissive they could walk all over—there was nothing fundamentally wrong with me (other than the fact that I didn’t defend myself). Another turning point was finding a group outside of my class—people who actually liked me and with whom I shared a deeper, mutual respect.
These days, I’m in a much better place with myself, but I’ve ended up harboring a deep resentment toward the people from my class. Anything I do with them just loses all its appeal—even if it were a trip to Disneyland.
Nowadays, I’m more attuned to reciprocity—checking whether I’m giving or receiving too much—and I no longer feel much guilt when expressing my needs. In short, I’ve become a healthy person. While I still don’t particularly enjoy the "social game," I’m at least able to navigate it, and I truly value those who are authentic. The influence others have on me has diminished significantly; even though I’ve learned some unpleasant truths about people, I haven’t become bitter. I try my best to get along with others, but if it doesn’t work out—well, so be it.
As for my general traits, I tend to be formal—even a bit distant—with people I don’t know well. However, I seem to have a sort of radar for spotting fellow "nerds" like myself; when I encounter one, I loosen up and start using more slang. My personal style is quite basic: when I go out, I dress a bit more sharply—jeans and stylish jackets—but in my day-to-day life, I prefer hoodies and sweatpants. I generally only speak about things I’m certain of, and I feel uncomfortable if I have to assert something I’m not entirely sure about. I’m honest, but I express myself in a calm, gentle manner. It’s very rare for me to threaten anyone, but if I’m pushed to that point—and the other person fails to meet the condition I’ve set—I feel I have no choice but to follow through on that threat.
As for goals, I don’t have many; I simply do what needs to be done. I don’t feel that my self-esteem is strongly tied to the number of achievements I’ve attained—though it once was. I eventually realized that many of the things I aspired to—once achieved (or even just after discovering what it would take to achieve them)—didn’t really change much. I care about doing things decently and keeping up, but I’m not the type who feels the need to be the best at everything, at any cost. My greatest source of pleasure is doing things I enjoy and savoring small moments; I find deep conversations about feelings and life events very fulfilling, though I also appreciate lighter, more casual moments.
I would say one of my greatest strengths is the ability to understand and reflect, as well as the capacity to find a way forward—even when options are limited (not to mention a natural aptitude for academics). As for my weaknesses, they include a lack of certainty, a certain degree of shyness, anxiety regarding unfamiliar physical situations (especially those that might pose some kind of danger), and—above all—self-doubt.
When I try to "predict" the future, I usually see two or three paths that are most likely to unfold—sometimes I’m right, sometimes I’m wrong. This is based both on my own impressions and on comparisons with past situations. I feel quite uncomfortable when I’m thrust into a situation without understanding what’s going on. I learn best by blending theory with practice—grasping the basic logic first, then figuring out the rest through hands-on experience. I’m not much for extensive planning; I prefer to ask questions as the need arises. That said, I don’t like jumping in completely blind—I prefer to have an initial plan to get things moving, though I almost always adapt it as new information comes to light. This applies when I’m working alone; when I’m in a group (and not the leader), I stick to the original plan until someone else suggests a change.
I hope this information is sufficient to type me with a reasonable degree of certainty—please let me know if anything is missing. And also thank you for taking the trouble to read all this and help me
