I was sitting in my favorite coffee shop just sipping on my hot tea and working on a few things. I was going through applications and more applications and my brain my pounding with the pressure of this unknown future. That’s when I decided to take a break. I had heard about this thing called the Enneagram from my older sister. You can take a test and it basically tells you what personality type you are (out of 9 different ones). To me, it’s so much more than the Myers Briggs personality test. The Enneagram teaches you about yourself and the motivations behind the things that we do. It helps you become the best “you” that you can be, a better friend to all the different types of personalities, and it’s a helpful tool for your walk with Christ as well. So enough about me geeking out over the awesomeness of the Enneagram. I took one of the free tests and (drumroll, please)…I am a 2: The Helper. The Enneagram website said I was “The Caring, Interpersonal Type: Generous, Demonstrative, People-Pleasing, and Possessive.” The more I read on, the more I identified with this. I began to understand who I was and why I was the way I was. I resumed my job search and had a clear mind because I was finally beginning to understand who I was.
Well, that didn’t last long. Someone called into question of me being a 2. They said that I didn’t exactly have the qualities of that type. Honestly, that stung. Hard. It seemed as if my world had just tilted. As if everything shifted just one inch. Something just didn’t feel right now. I was back to square one. I started to doubt myself and who I was. I became like Jim Carrey in The Number 23. I was obsessed with these numbers and finding out who I am. I dove into the Enneagram website and this amazing book that my sister got me (The Road back To You: An Enneagram Journey To Self-Discovery). She told me that sometimes women who are actually a 9, tend to think that they are a 2. That made me feel a touch better, but there was a nagging inside of me. I had already identified so much with a 2. I didn’t want to give that up. I read all about being a 9: The Peacemaker. I could see myself being a 9, but I was still apprehensive. Ever since then, one, huge questions has been ringing like church bells in my mind, in the very being of me: “Who am I?”
I questioned who I was – who I was in my friendships, in my family, and in my relationship with Christ. This whole Enneagram thing shook me to the core. I’ve never really been sure of who I am or my purpose on this earth. I’ve begged and pleaded with God to just give me and sign and tell me what to do. I’ve been just floating through life, pretty unsure of what’s next. I’ve been lazy about finding myself and knowing a deep relationship with God. I always wanted to better myself, to know myself before I knelt before the Throne. I am lost in the wilderness of who I am. The pitch-black darkness frightens me and my heart races at the speed of a hummingbird’s wings. My feet trample over the leaf-encrusted floor and the branches bite at my exposed skin. I am desperate to find the light through these thick woods. I am vulnerable and I have cut myself open for everyone else except myself.
So, now I am on this journey – in the great, wide somewhere (as Belle from Beauty and the Beast explains it). I am going to find myself. I’ll read the rest of the Enneagram book, probably take the actual Enneagram test that cost money, possibly even go back to seeing a therapist, and seriously get into His Word. Unfortunately, this post isn’t wrapped up into a neat little bow this time. I am still deep in that forest. I still can’t see the light in this darkness, but it’s almost like I’m following bread crumbs. They’re hard to see, but I know that I have a way out of here. And that’s all the hope I need for now.
words by Paige Burleson and photo by Kiana Dundore