It’s About the Fee-Fees: ISTJ, Writing, and Processing Feelings
I’ve tried to talk myself out of writing this essay because I’m quite nervous about what I’m going to say. But I’ve spent more time in my head and my heart, questioning, why it is that I do so much writing offline that I never post anything. The answer is complex in its simplicity, but since this is Medium and not, say one of those glossy literary journals I try so hard to get accepted into, and even then, took a while for me to even submit to, this might be a good place to answer a question mulling through my head: Why is it so hard to claim any feelings that I have or experience.
A few posts ago, I wrote about my Myers-Brigg as an ISTJ, and how in my hopeful university years was told that I was too boring to be accepted as a creative. Based on how I view the world, I tend to see it through the lens of boxes, and perhaps by accepting this box from others, only see my creative self-image through a limited box, instead of thinking outside of the box of how I could present as a writer. But back in those days, my peers and professors saw me as stodgy, stubborn, and based on how and what I write, downright unlikeable. And that unlikeability clouded any criticism I’ve received. I have some howlers for feedback I’ve received in educated spaces.
But that’s not what this post is about. The internal wrestling I’ve experienced that leads numerous posts to sit in the drafts folders for years (sometimes decades) is because I’m plagued by the fear that my writing, and by extension, I am not likable.
And if people cannot like me, then it’s usually because they don’t have their feelings invested in me.
It’s All About Me and My Feelings
When it’s come to relationships that have ended in the past, I wish I could say it was due to cheating, damaging personal property, or spreading rumors or lies to plot revenge against others. At least then, when those relationships have ended, then there’s a clear reason why. But the most common reason I’ve received for numerous relationships ending — when I do have a reason — is because the other person didn’t have feelings for me. There wasn’t any rhyme, reason, or argument I could point to. Instead, their feelings didn’t develop, so any future plans, sincerity, or investment in that relationship has to die with it, right at that moment.
It might seem odd that I’m talking about relationships here, but relationships are the center of my life. Or, at least they were a primary influence in my life until I was about 30. The younger years are filled with school and education, and school is a social gathering that one never sees again. That’s because it pairs up a lot of people within a peer group who may not have much in common initially, but who spend a lot of time together. The lucky ones are the popular crowd, but with that popularity comes a double edge sword- sometimes the popular ones can ascend to a higher position of social power in life, and sometimes they spend all their cool credit in their adolescent years and don’t amount to much. It had to be horrible to pique at 17 because that’s 60+ years of life to go downhill.
Most people are in the middle of their youth. In my youth, I was one of the people who were so insignificant that I doubt even the social rejects remember who I am. Granted, I had a lot of problems when it came to social functioning because I was so terrified of saying the wrong thing. Plus, in my younger years, it used to be triggering to see so many who were happy and receiving acceptance, at a time when I felt very much rejected and alienated from others.
Once I started to make an effort in relationships, it didn’t go over too well. Most of the rejections were centered around how they didn’t feel the same way about me — either platonically or romantically. The writing was my refuge. Of course, during my youth, I thought that I could show someone my writing to receive recognition. I worked on the school paper, and I turned in an Op-Ed piece. Based on the first draft, the Editor in Chief removed me from writing altogether, citing, “I’m not sure you’re cut out for this writing stuff.”
I say all of this because I faced a lot of rejection based on how people felt about me. I translated this to them not liking me. I tried to express myself to others by writing publicly, but I usually received criticism that I couldn’t write well because I wasn’t very likable. And their inability to like me meant that no one would want to read what I wrote.
This created a lot of second-guessing of myself. I work very hard and strive to be a good person. I’m very conscious. However, what people tend to get off me is the effort I put into being a kind person, which makes me impossible to like. It was about how they felt. It had nothing to do with what I did.
The Fee-Fees Paradox
Here’s the paradox in dealing with most people’s feelings. Most people want to connect first through their feelings — emotions, concepts, and ideas. They want to be understood immediately for who they are at their essence and their core, and…there’s some big thunderbolt that happens, I’m assuming. The problem is that their feelings take up all the space in the room, and I have to figure out a way to maneuver around them and serve their needs in a safe and secure way. This is perhaps where my strangeness comes from, and I end up giving them some wrong, awkward answer because my heart isn’t connecting and I’m not very touchy-feely with a person I just met.
The problem I have with it is that people who connect this way are connected via vulnerability. But what they don’t get is when I meet their vulnerability and connectivity, I usually end up revealing so difficult from my past that it’s wildly out of sync with their expectations, and then the focus switches to the attempt at vulnerability to coddling their feelings.
I’ll give an example -several years ago I interviewed with a financial advisor for a client position.
When I went over my socioeconomic background plus my career path which has been tumultuous at best, she stopped the interview. Instead of talking about a strategy for working together, she felt stressed, and I spent the rest of the time counseling her stress over what I’d just told her. We didn’t end up working together.
Another issue that can happen when fulfilling this request is that displaying feelings of vulnerability can lead others to attack, either whatever they’ve just heard, or the emotions expressed, and they refuse to let up on the attack, or they hold a grudge about it. This happened when I attended group therapy for a year. This could be a separate post (probably revealing how awful I am), but my feelings were wildly out of sync with the rest of the group. I announced these feelings when asked, but the group dubbed me as the Upset One for almost a year. It was pretty difficult to deal with an emotional group of people who had bonded, and the one time I was honest with my feelings, I was attacked and side-eyed the entire I was there.
This expression around feelings serves as a paradox, because the feelings must be the right feelings, or else it’s a negative outcome for the rest of the time. I started to feel like my writing, and my feelings both need to be kept under lock and key. Perhaps because no one understands me.
Or, more likely — no one wanted to understand me because no one liked me.
Fee-Fees and Empathy
I stopped caring so much about what other people thought, not because it stopped mattering but just due to time; there are only so many hours in the day and I’m not giving up my sleep or weekend naps for a problem that seemed impossible to solve. So if I came across as unlikeable, I’m more than welcome to be likable if said person was willing to pay some bills to take some of this stress off me.
Seriously though. The issue that I’ve worked through with lots of therapy and journaling is that when people talk about not feeling a certain way towards me, what I’ve read back was this demand to take care of them, but they also were to completely erase me in the relationship. This was why once a lot of my friends got into better stages of life, they abruptly terminated the friendship. After much observation, I’m not sure if it was because of my lack of feelings as it was that they no longer had a need for what I did for them.
I saw a Facebook post floating recently urging women to value men for how they feel as opposed to what they do in relationships. I found this funny because it reminded me so much of the many dashed connections I had in my youth. After careful observations, I’ve realized that I haven’t heard a lot of people delivering positive news with the phrase, “My feelings are wonderful!” and when others have gotten out of relationships with me, it’s been due to, “My feelings have changed, sorry.”
That’s because the discussion of feelings is a great deflection tactic for getting out of a relationship. You can’t gaslight someone by saying that they don’t really feel what they’re telling you how they feel. And as a culture, we’ve accepted feelings as a perfect reason to end a relationship without explanation. The reason is that feelings change throughout our day, even the hour. So if there’s no proof of action behind how someone feels, then what kind of relationship does one have with that person, besides in their head or in their hearts?
The issue isn’t one of empathy, because I empathize with what others are feeling. The problem is that the presentation of these feelings usually means honoring that person’s needs. Plus, when people need to be comforted or cared for during a difficult time, that means that Christina the (Friend, Partner, etc) has to step out of the room — even if they say something difficult regarding that role in life — and I have to show up for them and what their needs are. This also means I can’t be super invested in my feelings, because there’s usually no space for them.
Writing this out, I just realized something: whenever it’s come to feels that are easiest for me to mirror in others it’s a disappointment because the feelings most people feel comfortable expressing is a disappointment. It’s hard to get things like joy, excitement, and good times if it’s not reflected back. So perhaps there was really no room to be presented as likable if an opinion was already made from the start. There was no Jack and Rose on that Titanic. The ship just plunged.
Fee Fees and Manipulation
This will be a good point to wrap up. What I’m trying to say, is that what prevented me from posting on Blue Ivy’s internet, was that I was terrified that because I’m difficult to like by the Court of Public Opinion, in essence, my writing by extension won’t be likable, and also, not readable. So that’s why I’ve hoarded my writing, and parts of myself from others.
While I want to honor how people feel, I also want to add that people’s actions are a manifestation of how they feel. That’s the reason why I was able to tell that people found me to be unlikeable, long before they told me. That’s also why I rarely hear people say, “It’s just my feeling,” until they’re talking about something negative — or when they’re ready to push the relationship away.
So usually when I’m having these discussions around feelings, based on past experiences (because I am an ISTJ after all), it feels like an invitation to manipulation. And where I’m expected to care completely about others’ feelings and invalidate my own to take care of them and be present for them in how they’d need me to be. If they’re taking up all the feeling space, where can my feelings go? Possibly in the rough drafts of unpublished essays.
What are your troubles with expressing your feelings? Clap and comment. I’d love to hear from you!
