I hate your face, INFP: you shouldn't have

First things first. I hate it when they are sad because I yell at them.

There are three groups of people in an INFP's world. There is nakama, there are strangers, and there are enemies.

Due to internet magic, nakama now means "acquired family" or "compatriots". The whole concept exists as INFP pron. Nakama can be your favorite cause, or your genetic family, or your city, or all of humanity. I know an INFP who's donating a kidney to a stranger because she loves humanity so very much.*

And there's the second thing I hate. If you're in the nakama, INTPs are unsettlingly generous. Have you read "Gift of the Magi"? A young couple sell their most prized possessions to buy each other Christmas gifts- gifts which compliment the pawned items. Oh, heart warming, oh, tear jerking... It's freaking Christmas. There will be another one next year. Perhaps then you can sell your kidneys- unless you've already given them to orphans. Save the saleable heirlooms for a crisis, dammit.

You might think that someone who would pour out their life's blood for you would also be super understanding. And they are, up to an invisible secret point that no one can see. Not even the INFP. My mother (the INFP'S INFP) has friends she doesn't speak to because they found it hard to believe a mutual acquaintance would embezzle. I'm not supposed to invite people who helped raise me to my wedding because they disagreed with her about grazing rights. When she sees my high school boyfriends, she must be forcibly dissuaded from keying their cars. There are unshakable moral positions, and those who have violated them are no longer nakama. They are enemies.

Oh, and when INFPS are on the path of rightousness, nothing can stand in their way. Friendship, social structures, physiological need for sleep, laws of physics- all grass. All we have to do to put a man on Mars is convince an INFP that it is in the best interests of the nakama.

And strangers? If you are ever in need of a small health related consumable, ask an INFP. (There is no easy way to spot the except the worried expression and the halo.) They're always ready with pepto bismol or band-aides or a water bottle or a tampon. Imagine being thirteen and having your mom pass out sanitary products to strangers in a public bathroom.

*I was talking about altruistic kidney donation with my brother. He said "That kidney is mine in case drinking homemade moonshine has consequences." I said, "No, that kidney is mine for when I eat a mushroom that I'm certain was a chantrelle." Resolved: our four kidneys are owned communally.