About the Author
Rachel holds a B.S. in Neuroscience and usually a cup of coffee. She is an INTJ, but she is not a super-villain. Yet.
Folow Rachel on Twitter
I have a terrible poker face. I’ve never actually played poker, but I assume I would lose. I’m not good at putting on a happy face when I’m not happy, and please do not tell me to turn my frown upside-down. My ability to maintain a neutral to upbeat expression is so bad that strangers have stopped me in the grocery store to ask if I’m feeling alright.
Hello everyone, my name is Rachel, and I have a low tolerance for uncertainty.
Home Alone is my favorite Christmas movie. I think almost everyone can relate to the beginning of the movie when Kevin’s extended family is all crammed into his house, eating his cheese pizza and peeing in his bed. Huge family gatherings can bring out the worst in just about anyone, making Kevin’s explosion pretty sympathetic. But if you’re an
, then you probably find the first act of the movie even more stressful and nightmarish.
There are only a few activities that excite and thrill me as much as travel does. At the same time, there are also a few activities that stress and nauseate me as much as travel does. Some of these negative feelings occur because I am, at my core, a homebody and a creature of habit. But another part of it is my introversion, which also plays a role in the fact that I am such a homebody.
Women are kind and empathetic, but also cry too much and think with their hearts, rather than their heads. Meanwhile, men are rational creatures who inherently know how to lead and do math.
Psych! You were worried for a second, weren’t you? Don’t worry—not trying to perpetuate gender stereotypes here. Quite the opposite, actually.
If I were to assign a relationship status to my anxiety and myself, it would be “It’s complicated.” You see, I don’t know if I have an anxiety disorder or not.
I’m on an anti-anxiety medication, but this is the United States of America, year 2015, so having a prescription for a drug does not mean you have a disorder. Besides, is there even such a thing as an anxiety “disorder” in the first place?
Not long ago, I was trying to think of fictional female INTJs, because that’s what one does when one is a nonfictional female
with too much time to think. It’s a glamorous life.
I then realized that I could not think of a single fictional counterpart for myself. A friend helpfully pointed out that both main characters in Silence of the Lambs—Hannibal Lecter (male) and Clarice Starling (female)—are INTJ
So my list increased from zero to one.
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