This might be why I have no friends…

Last weekend I met a woman at a Meetup who I really liked. She seemed to meet all the criteria for someone I would want to be friends with, and I could tell immediately that she was either an INFP or ENFP. We had a really interesting conversation about different theories of personal development and she told me about one theory I’d never heard of. (The specifics are not important to this story.) After she explained it to me, I said, “That’s really interesting; I’ve never thought of that before. But I don’t think that’s true.” I explained why I thought it was wrong and proceeded to tell her about a theory of mine that contradicted hers.

I realized much later that I was kind of being a dick.

While I was listening to her talk about her theory, my train of thought went something like this: “Hmm, that sounds really interesting. No, wait. That’s a logical fallacy. When she stops talking, I’m going to point that out to her and give her this piece of evidence that refutes her theory. She’s trying to be logical but her logic is flawed. This study she just mentioned probably didn’t even have a control group.” And then I responded by telling her these things, but not quite as bluntly.

Why do I do that? Why couldn’t I just be supportive while she was telling me about an idea she was excited about instead of shooting it down? It’s not like it really mattered to me whether her theory was correct or not. Why couldn’t I have been thinking, “Hmm, that sounds really interesting. It’s fun to talk about abstract ideas like this. This theory seems to be important to her, so I should ask her some questions to find out why. If she’s interested in this topic, I think she’ll also be interested in learning about X.”

There are two tracks of thought that follow from conversation. My brain drives the train of logic and reason, and I can’t jump off and find my way to the train of friendship and empathy. Even if I could, I wouldn’t know what to say. Especially when I’m with more than one other person, it’s so hard for me to speak up that pointing out when someone else is being illogical is often the only time I feel really confident jumping into a conversation. I wish I could think—and more importantly, converse—in friend mode instead of fallacy-finding mode all the time.

On the other hand, I hate the idea that I need to change my personality in order to be liked. I’m a Thinker, not a Feeler. That’s my personality type and there’s nothing wrong with it. And while I think I do need to learn to be a better Feeler, I also think Feelers should strive to be more logical thinkers. Otherwise it further reinforces the notion that some personality types are objectively “better” than others, which is not true. I’m completely normal for an INTP, and I shouldn’t have to bend my personality to others anymore than they bend their personality to me.

But on the other hand, it’s also completely normal for an INTP to have no friends.

Is there a way to be more likable while still being true to my personality? Are there better ways to harness INTP-ness for friendship that I’m not seeing?

The New Year effect

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. Making changes in your life because it’s January 1st seems arbitrary and forced, which may be why it usually doesn’t work. I don’t set goals or make decisions according to the calendar. But this month I’ve noticed a spillover effect from people who do, and I’ve realized that maybe the en masse resolution-making that happens in January is a good thing, because it can give a boost to the un-resolute.

I go through many periods of personal reflection when I make what you might call resolutions; they just never happen to be on January 1. My last such renaissance was in the fall, and I did some soul-searching and a little goal-setting. However, many of my goals did not have much success until this month, when being on the periphery of the resolution-making world has given them greater momentum.

Here are a few of my goals that have seen a resurgence thanks to the New Year effect:

  • In the fall I set out to make my Meetup group more active. I put more events on the calendar, found better meeting locations and tried to get more participation from members. It didn’t work. But now it’s January, when a lot of people join Meetup groups because they’ve resolved to become more socially active. So I’ve gotten several new members and increased interest in events this month.
  • I started doing yoga a few months ago. I really like it, but I wasn’t motivated to practice consistently. This month I’ve been doing yoga every day with Yoga Revolution, a 31-day program that only exists because it’s January and it’s the time of year when the most people start doing yoga. Somehow, having a current program to follow and knowing that a lot of other people are doing the same thing makes it easier to stick with every day.
  • In October I decided to get serious about making friends because since I moved to Arizona, I haven’t had anyone to talk to or spend time with besides my husband. I tried a few different things, but the problem is that Fall, the end of the calendar year, is the worst time to make new friends. Everyone is busy, many workplaces are heading into a busy season, and people are gearing up for the holidays and focusing on their own families. But come January, after the busyness has settled down and everyone has spent the holidays visiting relatives and old acquaintances they don’t actually like, a lot of people resolve to make new friends. I’ve met a lot of new potential friends recently.

I still think that New Year’s resolutions are dumb, but I’m glad that other people make them so I can benefit.