Type 2


When I found out that I’m an enneagram two, I thought, that’s interesting. I don’t think so. I’m a seven. And I did score equally between 7, 2 and 9. Not only that but why box yourself into any one type. Frankly as far as I could see we limit ourselves when we look at ourselves as only being one way or this way and not that way.

When I read the attributes of a two, I was disgusted. Then when I read the most common careers for a two, I wanted to throw up. All these noble jobs that you do when you put others first. Always. Stay at home parent? Waitress? Where are the aspiring and inspirational careers like astronaut? What about writer? Ok, fireman was ok. I could do fireman. But seriously? My highest calling in life is to serve other people and while I’m doing it, supposedly if I’m “evolved” I just do it with humility and unconditionally. Seriously? And deep down all I want is to be loved? And I’m going to do all kinds of fucked up things to get loved? Including never focussing on my own needs and making sure other people get their needs met first? The only thing I can think of when I read this over and over and over again is “I’m a fucking idiot.” And yes I do know that Mother Theresa was a two. My hat’s off. She did good. She sacrificed herself. That’s bloody amazing.

If people only love me because I service the fuck out of them, that’s not love. Seriously. There is no love in that. Not on my side and not on theirs. That’s a bunch of disfunction and a bomb waiting to go off.

No thanks, I think I’ll  continue to live my life, write my shit, carry on. If I make some good friends along the way, all the better, if I touch a few lives, all the better, if I leave the world a better place than when I came into it, all the better. But I’m not going to put everyone else’s needs in front of mine.

I’m going to do like the airplane says. Put my oxygen mask on first before helping those who need it. Otherwise I don’t think I’ll be much help anyway.

And that is my rant on being a Helper.



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