How the Weather Taught Me to Embrace Being an INFP

When you live in New Jersey as an INFP, or any area where the temperature changes quarter-annually, you begin to notice that emotions are just as fragile as the leaves on trees. A classic comparison, “our emotions are like the weather,” is a phrase I feel INFPS find easy to relate to, because just like the weather, our highs and lows come naturally. And as beautiful and intense as a rainbow after a thunderstorm, we shouldn’t wish the ebbs and flows of our emotions away, but instead be grateful for the moments we have in them.

Just like many INFPs, though, I had an early realization that accepting my intense empathy as a gift would be easier said than done. Not only was I fighting for my own approval, but also for the approval of a world that shames strong emotions and puts creative thinkers in a box.

During the winter of 2024, I felt hopeless, wondering if it was worth the trouble of making friends because no one seemed to understand me the way I do myself. The despair I felt, wondering if I’ll ever be seen as a whole, and not just my emotions, was enough to make me question the point of wanting to be known at all.

But just as the seasons passed from winter to spring, my sorrow did as well. My thoughts remained similar, but I could get out of bed more often, talk to my family, and “be alive” again. After experiencing that, I went to the psychiatrist in fear of this drastic mental change and left with a SAD (seasonal affective disorder) diagnosis and a realization.

Even years prior to my diagnosis, I hated winter. The icy roads, the dark skies, the dull trees; not even Christmas could make me as happy as I felt on a random day in April. And that’s when I had the real eureka moment.

Asking others to “accept me” for who I am was like asking someone born in the Arctic to accept that the equator is a better place to live. The person from the Arctic might be able to see some positive aspects of a hot and humid climate, but not in the way someone who lives near the equator could. Instead, I had to accept my own nature and realize that not everyone appreciates it, but there will always be someone who cherishes me for who I am like I cherish the blooming flowers in spring.

Being an INFP is a gift that took me years to accept, but I’m finally at a point in my life where accepting my environment and nature comes easily to me. From snowfall to dry heat, from emotional highs to empathetic lows, I’m grateful for all of the seasons life has to bring. I’m grateful to be an INFP.