Life · Ramblings

Letters to Jacqueline

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thanks to Jacqueline for the photo

In my newest search to find my joy, I’ve discovered letters. I mean the real kind that need stamps and go through snail mail to get to you. It all started with a letter from my friend, Jacqueline. She wrote me a beautiful 3 page letter, telling me about her life and asking me about mine. Someone had placed in on my desk and when I saw it was from her, my day got instantly brighter. I started reading, and then read it again before I wrote my response. It wasn’t a huge piece of life changing information, but just a letter between friends, complete with inside jokes and open hearts. I started my response, and as I wrote, I found that I couldn’t stop. Even when my hand cramped and I reached for another piece of lined paper, I couldn’t put down my pen. It was like a piece of my heart had been tapped, and was now leaking all over the page. And the sight of it was beautiful. To me, feeling like I could let out some frustration and anger on the page to someone who was removed from the situation, helped.  I mailed the letter, a beautiful six pages of my word vomit, and a piece of my sadness and pain and frustration. My heart on paper.

A couple days later a received a text from her:

“I just want you to know, I love you and treasure you like none other. A response is coming very soon.”

Before I had even received her response, I had started my next letter. Who knew that putting away my phone and picking up a pen would heal me more than a thousand emojis? As a writer, I should have known.

One of my favorite writers, Karen Scalf Linament, author of masterpieces such as “Normal Is Just A Setting On A Dryer”, and (my personal favorite) “I’m Not Suffering From Insanity, I’m Enjoying Every Minute Of It!”, wrote in the latter mentioned book, about a friend who finds so much joy in writing letters to her friends. Something about encouragement and openness, bringing people together. I always loved that part, thinking that writing really does do that. It puts a piece of your heart down on paper in a way I don’t think I can always do out loud. But blogging out to the world, and opening up to a dear friend in a hand written letter, are two very different things.

Because of this, I have a new goal I’m going to work on for a while. I’m going to write letters more. Handwritten, on paper, with an envelope and a stamp, in the mail. That’s the plan. We’ll see what happens, I suppose. It’ll take some practice, and just a pinch of discipline, but I want to try it.

If you’d like me to send YOU a letter, let me know! I don’t promise I’ll send you something right away, but as long as you give me your address, I can begin working on it.

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Life · Personal · Ramblings

Choosing Joy?

Who knew such a little thing could set me off? It was a piece of yellow construction paper with the words “Choose Joy” scrawled across it in blue crayon, pinned up in one of the offices. I was sitting in an armchair, staring at the offending paper, contemplating the existence and futility of mankind, when the annoyance finally boiled over.

“That’s just stupid.”

Zach, our office manager, looked up from his laptop. “Am I missing something?”

I pointed, and he followed my line of sight to the sign on the wall.

“The paper?”

“Yes. Do you realize how absolutely dumb that is? Anyone who’s suffered from depression knows exactly how impossible that is.”

Zach stared at the offensive paper for a second, then turned back to me. “I think it’s actually more about attitude and head space, than emotion.”

“Yeah, but joy isn’t something you can just turn on like a light switch…” I trailed off, annoyed that Zach was right and I was just being a grump.

“I think the ‘Choose Joy’ phrase is actually a lot more about finding the good within the bad, and not letting the bad suck all the goodness out of life. Choosing Joy doesn’t necessarily mean you’re choosing happiness or choosing to suddenly be fine, but instead choosing to see the hope, or at least choosing to search for it.”

If I haven’t mentioned before, Zach is a very wise man.

The sign (and ensuing conversation) got me thinking, though. I was so quick to find fault in something so simple, and so slow to try and see the good just because I was in a low spot. Sometimes you have to look for your joy, search for it in the midst of stress and emotional dehydration.

So, I started making a list. I’ve realized that I really enjoy lists. Having them all down in an easy tangible form is helpful, and I can continue adding to it without feeling like I have to remember everything. At first, the list began as something of a “to-do” list of things that I needed to work on that might bring back a little of the joy I was missing. I present it to you now:

  • Work on your herb garden. You saved a pin about this. I’m thinking basil, rosemary, and mint for starters. Put them in mason jars, or some fancy hipster thing like that.
  • Blog more often. You should write more. Writing gets you out of a funk.
  • Be a better wife to Allan. He deals with all your crap and your whining.
  • Finish Searching for Sunday by Rachel Held Evans.
  • Finish Worm by Wildbow.
  • Start A Year of Biblical Womanhood by Rachel Held Evans.
  • Compile a good reading list for the year. You need better reading goals. You always surprise yourself with how happy reading makes you. Dumb bunny.
  • Think about a five year plan. Also maybe a ten year plan. Or just a plan.
  • Finish playing Bioshock Infinite
  • Start a bullet journal. Your inner scrapbooking queen is screaming to be let out (just a little bit).
  • Cook for people. This is your love language, and since people need to eat, this is pretty convenient.

As you can see, the list doesn’t really have any real thought process to it, other than being a bunch of things I’d like to do regularly. A couple goals thrown in, and voila! A partially functional list. A couple joy things, a couple goal things, and a couple life things. Now, some of these I can’t really work on at camp (like the video game and cooking), but other things I’ve already started. I finished reading Searching for Sunday by Rachel Held Evans, (which was, by the way, absolutely amazing and blew my freaking mind all over the place), and am already half way through A Year of Biblical Womanhood. I’m almost 1/3 of the way through an audiobook of Worm by Wildbow, (and considering the book is approximately the equivalent of 6 War & Peace books, I’m quite proud of my accomplishment thus far). I’ve started trying to write in my spare time, jotting down bits and pieces to later weave them into something coherent. As for the “being a better wife” part, I consider that an ongoing project that I shall continue to master until my death.

I had a conversation with my boss, Tim N., a couple days ago, and he brought up something I hadn’t thought about before. He mentioned that I seemed unhappier this summer, and that (since he had read my blog) I seemed to really be struggling more so than the past two summers. He guessed that it might have to do with my lack of people-ing. That’s not the word he used, but you get the idea. As an extrovert, I get energy by being around people. And not just being in their presence, but interacting and having an impact. As photographer, I am around people all day, but don’t have the time or opportunity to interact on a deeper level with the campers. I think he might be right. Yet another insightful piece of information to help me locate my joy.

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Life · Personal

Happiness vs. Joy

If you didn’t already know, I’ve been struggling this summer. I’ve gotten easily frustrated and fed up with processes that work too slow, and wind up feeling defeated and deflated. Here’s an excerpt from something I jotted down while in a serious decline:

“What am I doing? I feel like I ask myself this question a lot. At the moment, I’m a photographer for Camp Sandy Cove. While I love being back at camp, I’ve found myself already in a rut of “in-between”. What is an “in-between” rut? Well, sit back, grab a drink, and I’ll tell you. An “in-between” rut is when you hate everything. You shouldn’t, but for a split second that makes absolutely no sense, everything is useless including yourself. You hate the grass and the pavement and your own shoes and people in general. You mostly hate yourself though, because everything seems to have come from nowhere and it makes you tired and sad for no reason. It makes you question everything you do. Those of you who might confuse this with depression would be wrong. Depression would be when you question your very existence and when this feeling continues for longer than a few hours. A rut usually only lasts anywhere from 60 minutes to 24 hours.

I’m tired. So incredibly tired. The kind of tired that seeps in through your lungs and grabs you and rips you to shreds. I have no problem admitting any of this. I’m tired. But it’s not that kind of physical exhaustion you get from running around all day and taking pictures of small children. And pretending to have the energy of ten people that you obviously haven’t had in quite a while.

It’s a mental and spiritual exhaustion. A soul exhaustion that feels like everything good has just been completely wiped from the planet. All you can hope for and all you can pray for is just to make it back to your bed. I’m at a point where I just don’t care. And caring usually keeps me alive. I want to lay down in the wet grass of the soccer field and just be. Who knew I would miss the freedom that comes with being able to even do that much? Working six days a week at camp doesn’t really allow that behavior, because even on your off day, camp is thrumming with children. Compete with their whining and their screams and their “you’re in my personal space” banter.

Maybe the sun is sucking it all away. Maybe the heat and the exhaustion mix to form a messy cocktail of emotions that leave me tired and aching for something else. I keep waiting for the eminent breakdown, with tears and some horrible mental break that drives me off the edge. It hasn’t come yet. The waiting is almost as bad as the break.”

If that doesn’t give you a hint of where I’ve been at this summer, I don’t know what will. Feeling exhausted even after a good 8-9 hours of sleep, waiting for impending break down. As the summer has sprawled on, my emotional state hasn’t gotten better.

Since Chesh is my boss, that means he walks and talks me through my mid-summer evaluation. Over-all, his comments were that I was doing well at my job but needed some tweaking in certain areas. One of those things was my attitude. His comment was that while around the campers I was high energy and high smile; a good attitude and engaging. As soon as the office door closed, though, I became a grumpy, sassy, complaining person that was downright depressing.

“We need to work on that.” He said.

“I’m exhausted,” I admitted, grumbling my way into a slouch on the armchair. “And I don’t want to do this anymore. I feel worked to my limit and even though we get a day off, it never feels restful. I don’t feel re-charged. I keep waking up tired.”

“That’s what I mean. We need to work on finding something that makes you more than just happy, but gives you the re-charge you need to get through the summer.”

After a while of contemplation about this (I ended up being placed on the shuttle that Sunday, which meant a solid 8 hours as co-pilot to think things through and mull over possible ideas), I figured out it was my joy. I was certainly happy on my day off, and happy when the wifi worked, and happy when I got to use a golf cart to get around camp, but there wasn’t joy. I suppose I should say there still isn’t joy, since as I write this, I’m still working it through myself.

What brings me joy? I’ve been trying to figure it out. I think there’s a difference between those “little happys” and true joy. A little happy would be a surprise oreo cookie, or a late night trip to IHOP. These are beautiful things in and of themselves, but they offer a happy relief that usually doesn’t last very long. I need to find out what brings me joy and not just happiness.

If you have any ideas, let me know. This is a journey, after all!

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Life · The Reinhard Chronicles

The Reinhard Chronicles: Just a House

I think in some strange way, a couple’s first house together is a scup of tea leaves in the telling of their future together. Somehow, that first apartment, house, or tent, is a testament to who they are and how their relationship will be. As per usual, the extent of my knowledge is purely based on my own personal experiences, thoughts, assumptions, and expectations.

Having said that, Cheshire and I arrived at Camp Sandy Cove in May, a freshly married couple, prepped and ready for a summer experience like never before. We arrived late and tired, just wanting to get to our trailer for the summer, and collapse into bed. What we beheld was bleak, even for the two of us who would have had no trouble camping in a tent all summer. A single room trailer that consisted of a lot more hallway than anything else. The full size mattress was tolerable, but the airplane sized bathroom was an absolute disaster.

“Well,” said Chesh, testing the water in the sink, “At least any place after this will be a step up!”

Even though a friend had told us that the trailer had been cleaned before our arrival, the shower was covered in black mold. We had also forgotten bedding, and staring at a bare mattress at 11:30 pm with pouring rain outside, was NOT an encouraging start. Chesh’s hair grazed the roof of our trailer and there was next to no closet space. After ten hours in the car, I was done. I sat on the couch and sniffed. My head was aching and I was already exhausted. This was going to be a long summer.

As the days passed, we found ourselves stuffing various clothing articles in various drawers. Some bleach powder, a scrubbie, elbow grease, and an hour and a half later, I had worked through the shower.

We had hot water…at first. But a week later it all went cold, and we learned our first lesson of trailer-living. Tad, the camp’s handyman, offered to fill up our gas tank, and we were back to hot showers again. Not that Chesh could actually FIT in the shower. He usually drove down to the guy staff cabin to shower in there.

We found a mini fridge in the basement of the office that we were given permission to use, and so it took up residence on our “dining room table”. I hesitate to even call it that. I think it might have been the fridge that finally made it feel like home. Drinking cold soda with our evening movies was fun. It felt normal.

It was on our day off that we decided to check out the trailer next door.

“I just want to see what it looks like inside,” I told Chesh, skipping down the steps and around the side.

One look told me we had gotten the short straw in regards to trailers. This one was bigger with steps that went up to the living room with a built in fridge and an actual bathroom with a functional bathtub. The bedroom had an actual sliding door to close it off from the rest of the trailer, but contained a single bed frame and mattress that was placed at an odd angle. The bed had obviously been added later and there was a large enough space for a queen or even king sized bed in its place. Cheshire and I only shared a short look before driving up to the office to ask for a switch.

With a quick warning about a minor leak in the living room, and permission to remove the single bed and replace it with a queen, we were off. That night we were sleeping in our new trailer. Like all trailers, we had to figure out the little nuances of “home #2”. The fridge had it’s own layer of black mold, and I found myself once again scrubbing away until it was gleaming white again. It was a good feeling, settling into our new place less than ten feet from our old one.

But no place is perfect, right?

A couple of days later it rained. No, it POURED. And that “little leak” we had been told about was a little more than a “little” leak. The living room got rearranged with a pot, an Ariel mug, and a plate to collect the drips. An orchestra played while we slept, a hilarity that I thought only happened in movies. At least we were dry.

For now.

I awoke in the middle of the night by two things. One, my feet were soaked. Two, so was my head. I woke up Chesh, and we realize the water was pouring in from the wall above our heads as well. Actually, it was more like MY head, soaking my side of the bed while Cheshire’s side remained dry. We slept the rest of the night on the couch.

We have since learned how to avoid certain mishaps like this, putting a tarp on the roof, pushing the bed into the middle of the floor, and carefully arranging our pots and pans. Looking at it now, I laugh. A test, I suppose, of just how functional we can be. I’d like to think we’ll survive through rain and low ceilings, mini fridges and no closet space.

Life · Lifestyle · Personal

Calling All Mermaids and Camp Counselors!

The same way an ink spill pools over everything it touches, hair dying does the same. I came to camp this summer sporting beautiful locks of bubble gum pink hair.  Halfway through training week, I was approached by not one, not two, not three, but nine people who wanted me to help them dye their hair. Everything from natural blonde and auburn with black tips, to purple streaks, to flaming red, to purple with orange tips, to peacock ombre. I was excited to say the least. If there’s something I love to do, it’s dye hair. Let me repeat: I LOVE DYING HAIR! I think that using your hair as a canvas is an extremely fun way to show off your personality. Getting to transform your hair into something exciting, is a way for me to be a part of that “unveiling”.

As someone who dyes hair a lot, I have tried a lot of different brands and colors, compiling a lovely little list of what works best. I rate hair dye on vibrancy, fade, and bleed. Vibrancy is the color you get right after you dye it, fade is how your color fades over time as well as washes, and bleed is how much rubs off on clothing, pillow cases, and in the shower.

DISCLAIMER: The products mentioned are purchased (usually) through Sally Beauty Supply, which I am a huge fan of, and can easily be found in just about any town. I don’t receive any compensation for the products I recommend. I recommend them because they’re good products that I’ve tried that I love. If I haven’t tried a certain product, I’ll give no comment. There is a very long list of things I want to try that I just haven’t done yet. I promise that as I learn new things, I’ll edit this post, or maybe write a whole new one!

Moving on.

First, let’s talk Hannah’s hair.

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For me, the most important part of getting my hair to the color I want it, is bleach. I don’t mean the bleach you keep in your pantry. I mean hair bleach. I mix of powder and volume 30 developer. I use that combination because that’s what I’ve tried on my hair and what seems to work well for the level of lift I want.  (If you want some more info on bleaching, read this lovely article. Usually it takes me 2-3 bleach jobs to get the right amount of lift. As you can see from the picture above, my hair is a pretty white-ish blonde. Since I knew I was going for an orangey-pink color, I probably would have been fine with just once or twice instead of the three times it took me to get this.

Now onto color. In the second picture (the one with the strawberry vanilla caption), I used Ion Color Brilliance in the shade Flamingo. Now, I was really excited about Flamingo, because I was hoping it would give me the right kind of pink that I wanted. I didn’t want bubble gum pink, and I really didn’t want that bright Barbie hot pink either. Unfortunately, Flamingo came out more like melted ice cream, and since that WASN’T what I was looking for, I tried again.

Next I used Flamingo mixed with Ion Color Brilliance Brights in the shade Magenta. This gave me a little bit of an in-between that melted ice cream and Barbie pink.

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Thus, my third picture. I wasn’t sure about the fade, but so far I like it! The top fades first (since it’s closer to my scalp, and is what gets washed the most), and melds into a blonde color. Here is an example of that fade.

I really love the Ion brand, and have found it the most flexible in hair colors. They have a lot of options with not too much fade, and very minimum bleed. Also, one box/tube of Ion costs about $6, which is perfect for my price range. It takes about a tube and a half to do all my hair, which means I can redo my color for about ten dollars, which I redo every two weeks. The key to good fade is cool showers. If your color fades super quickly, and you’re so surprised that your hair is fading, understand that the hotter your shower is, the faster your color will fade. Now, in the summer, I don’t mind taking cool showers. But once we kick into fall and winter, all I want to do is slip into a hot steamy shower.

Another thing I want to mention is Overtone. Overtone is a conditioner that has color in it, and every time you wash your hair and use the product, it adds color back into your hair.

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I bought myself a bottle of daily conditioner in their Vibrant Pink and have been using it every time I shower. The best part is that they encourage you to shower with warm water instead of cold. YAY! After using the product (and hearing so much hub about it), I have to say I was a little disappointed. It kept the color even, which I appreciated, but didn’t keep the vibrancy. In the picture with the sunglasses, you can see the color is an even light pink (which is CUTE!) BUT I isn’t that bright pink I wanted. If you want a pastel color, this stuff is awesome! You can purchase the conditioner through their website, and the bottle is around $17 for 8oz. “Use our Daily Conditioner every time you would normally condition your hair in the shower, especially after shampooing. These mild formulas will deposit just the right amount of color while moisturising your hair to help it healthy. Some colors might stain your hands a little, so be sure to look for our “wear gloves” warning in the product description.” (Overtone.co)

As I’ve researched dye, I’ve developed a long list of colors to try next, and I’m “booked” for color all the way through next spring. As I try new products I’ll write about them and figure just WHAT works best in my opinion.

Farewell, my fellow mermaids!!!

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Life · Personal · Ramblings

Aaaaaaaaand She’s Back!

Who knew that the month of your wedding would be so stressful, eh? I mean, I had figured it would be, but had kind of hoped I would have some time here and there to do some writing. Unfortunately for my blog, the little pieces of time from “here and there” ended up being spent going over arrival times for the wedding party, planning out exactly WHAT I was going to do with my hair, and lying in bed till 3 am worrying about the weather.

The only comfort that remained (as the wedding date loomed, and my blog began to accumulate dust) was the thought of our two week honeymoon after the wedding. A cabin in the woods with plenty of books to be read, stories to be written, and wine to be sipped (in the hot tub). Cheshire and I planned on doing a ton of writing. There were, after all, no distractions in Blue Ridge, and we could get a lot of work done. Thank God I married an introvert who’s idea of fun is to seclude ourselves from people for two weeks solid. (I say this with absolutely NO sarcasm. After having a million people to talk to and hug and interact with at the wedding, two weeks of foresty silence has been the BEST.)

There are, I think, a couple things I have already realized about married life, having been married for a grand total of one week and one day.

  • The bed will not often get made.
  • Cheshire and I will not go to bed at the same time.
  • There’s never enough milk in the fridge.
  • It takes a while for the “wife” title to really kick in.

Allow me to explain.

I, much like many other women of all ages, love Pinterest. I can create my perfect board with my perfect pictures of my perfect house of my perfect life. And Pinterest, my lovelies, can be a beautiful pedestal of happy thoughts that NEVER come true. Take, for instance, my favorite picture in my “Dream Home” board. This photo is of a beautiful bed with cute, comfy looking pillows and a throw that is carefully folded at the foot of the bed. The headboard, the rug, and even the hallway, look beautiful and clean and cozy. It’s lovely. I want to crawl through my laptop into that photo and curl up with a cup of tea on that bed. But. It has occurred to me (7 days into my honeymoon), that having a made bed will not be common. If ever. I have made the bed once. No, actually twice. While I am not opposed to having a made bed, I don’t think I really want to do it every day. I would just rather go drink coffee on the couch and watch Cheshire play (insert game here). Does that make me a bad wife? I sure hope not.

Another connection to the “made-bed-thing” is the “going-to-bed-thing”. Cheshire is a night owl. He doesn’t like to lay around and let his mind wander. Sometimes it goes places he doesn’t like. So instead, he’ll stay up and do something else until he gets tired enough to go to bed. I don’t mind. My dad does the same thing, and it makes perfect sense to me. You go to bed when you’re tired, not when it’s “bed time”. I, on the other hand, can get tired at 10 pm and have no problem announcing that I’m tired, and doing just what I mean to do: SLEEP. I heard once that couples should go to bed together because then they can talk to each other about their day before drifting off to dreamland. To me, that seems strange since the question arises of “what have you been doing all evening?” You should be talking to each other WAY before “bedtime for Bonzo.”

Thirdly, we’ve gone to Walmart three times to get more milk. Three. We’ve only been here 7 days and have scored through a whole gallon already. Not really surprising though, if you consider all the cookies we’ve dunked, and all the hot chocolate and coffee we’ve slurped. As someone who has been dubbed as the “baby cow” for how much milk I consume, it really should be no surprise that the two of us (the baby cow and the cat) could drain through all of that 2%.

And lastly, but not leastly: It really DID take a bit for my new title to sink in. The morning after our wedding, I found myself muttering to myself: “Wife, wife, wife. I’m a wife. This is my husband. I’m his wife. Wifey, wifey, wifey. Weird….”
And it still is weird.
BUT. It’s kind of an awesome feeling. Cheshire isn’t just my boyfriend or fiance anymore. He’s my HUSBAND. And I’m a WIFE. Makes me really happy thinking about it. Every once in a while, I’ll catch Cheshire staring at me, and when I give him a look that says, “What are YOU staring at??” He just smiles and says, “Just looking at my WIFE.”
I think it’s still kicking in for him too.

Well, now that it’s OFFICIALLY time for me to sleep, I’ll leave with this last word: Life is awesome. Freaking awesome. And the things you do and the choices you make, can really make life awesome. But honestly, it’s the people in your life that make life worth living.

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Blog Challenge · Life

Meyers-Briggs (Day 9)

If you are unfamiliar with it, the Myers–Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) is an “introspective self-report questionnaire designed to indicate psychological preferences in how people perceive the world and make decisions.” You might have taken the test for a class or even a job (I’ve taken it for a camp I worked at and for two separate college classes). The test consists of four personality traits to compose your own individualistic introspective understanding of why you do the things you do. There are four possible pairs of personality traits: Introversion (I) or Extroversion (E), Intuition (N) or Sensing (S), Thinking (T) or Feeling (F), and Judging (J) or Perceiving (P).

If you haven’t guessed by now, I’m an ENFP. An Extroverted iNtuition Feeling Perceiver. To help you understand this even a little bit more, here are a couple pics to explain:

 

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Not going to lie, I’m extremely proud to be an ENFP. I don’t have ducks in rows, but I have squirrels at a rave. I promise not to forget and then I forget. I forget what I was talking about in mid sentence. I get magical crazy beautiful ideas that never go anywhere. ENFP’s are the perfect ambivert: I absolutely love people!!! until I hate them all. I want to make beds out of marshmallows and duct tape myself to the wall for fun. I hate making snap decisions or being told what to do. I talk to myself out loud when my brain is too full to think. If you command me to do something that I was already planning on doing, the chances of me doing that thing automatically drops to zero. There is no limit to what I can accomplish when I’m supposed to be doing something else (AKA my entire college career). I pack two hours before a trip, and unpack three months after getting back. I aggressively care about you but don’t want to be clingy about it. I alternate between procrastination and perfectionism. I’m indecisive because I see eight sides to everything. I contradict myself a lot.

I could go on. There are some FANTASTIC little memes and gifs and lists for every type of personality.

“But Hannah!” You ask. “What is Cheshire’s personality? He doesn’t really seem like much of an ENFP (from reading his blog). How does that work out?”

Whelp, let me tell you.

My dear lovely Chesh is an INTJ (Introvert Intuition Sensing Judger), which if you hadn’t noticed, is almost the EXACT opposite as myself. They do say that opposites attract. This article is actually great at summarizing how our similarities and differences work and don’t work. Because we know how important it is to anticipate probelms we might have before we ever get to them, Chesh and I talked about this extensively in our meeting with our pre-marital counselor. Dr. David Olshine, who loves looking at people’s personality traits and how they relate to each other.

As I read through the article mentioned above, I found myself nodding a lot. Take one look at the differences between my blog and Cheshire’s and it’s pretty obvious. My ENFP personality is very bouncy and feels a lot of feelings out loud. I’m a dreamer who keeps my head in the clouds most days. The articles I write about I try and keep upbeat and funny, and when I do write about serious things, the post focus more on the emotional side rather than the cognitive. Cheshire’s INTJ personality os a bit more grounded. While he is still a dreamer, he can be much more focused on the actions to be taken to get the dream done. He processes internally and therefore his articles tend to be very introspective and get you thinking. (See the difference between the Feeler and the Thinker?)

Below is an excerpt from the article talking about why ENFPs fall for INTJs (and vice versa).

ENFP-INTJ-Cognitive-FunctionsENFPs and INTJs may only share one letter preference in common (N for intuition) however, they share two common cognitive functions; Introverted Feeling and Extraverted Thinking (see above). This means that both ENFPs and INTJs not only perceive the world through intuition, they also have a common feeling and thinking function, although in a separate order. Where the ENFP will have a higher knowledge and awareness of his/her own emotions and values, the INTJ will have a higher awareness of the logical approach and efficient task completion. If you look at the cognitive function image, you can see that INTJs use Fi in the tertiary position, only one step down from the ENFPs position. The same goes for Extraverted Thinking, the ENFP has Te in the tertiary position, only one step down from the INTJs Te.

Ok so I know that sounded kind of complicated, but when I can better understand myself and how I work, while at the same time seeking to better understand Cheshire and how he works, we are recognizing pieces of us that make the relationship stronger, as well as the pieces that make us clash.

If you haven’t taken the Myers-Briggs, I highly recommend you do. Understanding yourself and how you work can be extremely beneficial into understanding certain tenancies and traits that make you, you! Knowing your strengths and weaknesses can help you with jobs, every day life, how you interact with friends and family, and how you play a role in society. You have certain gifts and talents that might have a bigger impact than you know. You also have weaknesses that could cause you trouble (and even pain).

In my opinion, the 16 Personalities website is one of the best Myers-Briggs tests out there, that not only gives you the option for detailed answers, but also is great at explaining the strengths and weakness you may have. It’s also totally FREE so you aren’t having to fork over cash or create an account just to better understand yourself. It’s also a great tool to better understand your significant other, or even friends and family. Sometimes recognizing the ‘why’ can help mend relationships, or harness each other’s strengths to create a better community.

Boom! There it is. I hope it helped. And let me know what YOU are! I love seeing how beautifully different we are and how together we make the world go ’round.

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