Enneagram 3’s
When everything becomes a performance, it’s hard not to be the cruelest judge.
The last five or so years, I have been on a journey of self discovery. I know that sounds lame, or at the very least, cliche. It wasn’t as if the process, like all of us, did not start in my formative years. I’m not so much speaking about the “what’s” as I am the “why’s.” I already understood my interests, (for the most part) and I also understood in many ways what made me click. I knew my habits for the better or worse and I knew my past mistakes. I could identify patterns in my life and one of the largest ones I documented here in my first blog post. I put down The 12 Rules for Life, walked out of a chain linked fence, and never looked back. From that point on, it was no longer simply knowing things about myself but doing something about it. I left the metaphorical tyranny and entered the desert and let me tell you… the desert sucks.
In the past year, I have taken various personality tests as is the modern thing to do. One of the most recent tests was through Understand Myself, (Peterson’s personality test) but also through the enneagram route. A couple work colleagues referenced it in conversations and predicted me to be a 3. Turns out, they were right. Interestingly enough, the term “chameleon” came up as a descriptor of such a personality. That term has been used for many third culture kids so I didn’t need the extra boost injected straight into my veins. I write about my journey as a TCK here and also have written a full book on the topic entitled Monument on Lenora Avenue. TCK’s are known to adapt very easily in new situations. In fact, it seemed like my first language was adaptation. I could read a room whether I’d like to or not. It wasn’t as if I were trying to read all the subtle hints, body language, and the works- I just did as if an audible voice. Through reading about Enneagram 3’s I cringed as if listening to a recording of myself. A million scenes ran through my life where I said something (or did not say anything which is equally important) in order to blend in. The strange contradiction is that we’d also like to stand out.
I ran into the wall that perhaps many 3’s run into. Somewhere between Tokyo, Seattle, Tokyo, and Seattle I lost myself. I had written a character and could no longer remember the details. It didn’t help that I was an artist as well. A third culture kid artist who was an Enneagram 3- so a chameleon’s chameleon. I became whatever version anyone wanted me to be without even thinking. Does a chameleon actively try and change its colors? Does he close his eyes and change from yellow to green? Or is it as natural as taking steps forward or climbing a tree? The truly unnatural thing then was to find out what my natural color was and to stay that color even if it meant I could see what other people wanted me to be and still not change. That took all of my effort. That took a lot of dying to myself, even if those parts were simply masks of my true identity.
All of that is a process. Like a chameleon, I shed the dead skin day by day. It’s also a devastating process because some of those dead parts I liked. Like a true performer, I could read a room. I notice now why I was constantly exhausted from being around people because everything became a performance. I recently moved from Seattle to Tulsa and my first instinct was to figure out what makes this place tick and then blend in. I will become my surroundings and through that lens, I see the world. I have a full time job, am a full time dad with drop offs and pick ups, restarted my start up, was in an incubator and pitching constantly for funds, still attempt to write books- all the things that an Enneagram 3 tends to be without a second thought. Yet now I also see the unhealthy side of the performer, and that is, the judge.
It’s a strange place to sit- to be determined to be yourself without the constant compromise of a chameleon. In many ways, I can identify the easy ways to fit in. I can observe the lingo- the right things to say in pitches, around the water cooler, or on social media. Within the creative field, I see the monthly trends that get the nods of approval from the influential. I can identify the colorful palette as a background but the hard part isn’t being a part of the painting. It’s to “just be” whether it fits the painting or not. And then here comes the judge who points out, “That doesn’t fit. If you just blended these corners, if you just compromised, if you just did what you had done before- then it would be magnificent.” Each of the smallest conversations become a performance and then the judge appears again. “You could have adjusted what you had said.” The judge is never satisfied because the reward system has been shut off. No longer am I attempting the short bursts of applause by surrounding people. I am attempting instead to play the long game. Maybe a chameleon can choose to be himself, and one day, through all the shifting scenes of a background painting, he will fit in just the right place to make the painting beautiful.