Since I was young, many people have said that I don't like to talk and that I never greet my elders, claiming that it's very impolite. When I see teachers or classmates, I often think a lot: "What if I address them incorrectly? What if they don't hear my greeting? What if my expression is too stiff?" Thinking too much, I learned to be silent, and thus I became that passive person. I always unconsciously add words like "seems like," "should," and "maybe" at the end of every sentence. My thoughts are like a tangled thread, and before I know it, these words block my inner thoughts in my throat. I have always felt that I am not a brave person. When opportunities are right in front of me, I hesitate too much to fight for myself; when I see others in need on the road, I want to help but worry that they might think I'm meddling; when chatting with unfamiliar people, I agonize over every word for a long time before hitting send. Many people say that INFJs wear many "masks" and speak differently depending on who they are with. I don't like this label; it sounds a bit negative, hiding some hypocrisy and insincerity. For me, it feels more like a necessary adaptation. I always want everyone to feel that I am easy to get along with and worth interacting with, so I subconsciously scan the external environment—your current state, the way you need to communicate, the sounds you want to hear. I try to align with your state so that we can seem more "compatible." Therefore, every word I say and every side I show is to find an entry point with you, making us feel more "in sync." This form of socializing is my norm, and being sensitive makes me feel that socializing is a huge drain on me. I might be like a sponge, unconsciously absorbing the emotions of those around me. When someone feels uncomfortable or oppressed, even if they don't say it, I can strongly sense that atmosphere, making it hard to completely isolate myself from those emotions. I can detect subtle changes in others' emotions; a facial expression, a word, or a hint of displeasure from someone can stir waves in my heart. I don't want anyone to feel unhappy because of me, which sometimes exhausts me. Sometimes I try my best to help and understand others, but I hold myself to very high standards. A tiny mistake or a poor social performance can be magnified in my mind, leading me into prolonged self-blame and discomfort. I often feel anxious about this, whether it's for a gathering a few days later or a PPT presentation. I like to listen. Hearing other people's stories and understanding their inner worlds is very interesting. As long as the other party is willing to talk, I am willing to spend time understanding their growth experiences—both happy and unhappy, which I see as enriching the person in front of me, a form of honesty. This gives me a sense of being trusted. I enjoy solitude. Eating alone, watching movies alone, going to a small bar alone, eating hot pot alone, going to KTV alone, traveling alone. Speaking of travel, I have already been to seven countries alone. Solitude is my only way to recharge. Sometimes, I wish no one would disturb me; I just want to be alone, even if it's just to daydream. I have a strong sense of empathy, and I really like this ability. When I scroll through Douyin, watch movies, or read books, I often find myself crying over certain stories. I love this feeling; for me, those inner pangs make me feel an invisible connection to these stories. At that moment, I am alive and full of emotions. I am used to following my own rhythm. I like to live with a plan: waking up early, exercising, studying, going to bed early. But I have poor self-discipline, so I habitually make a daily plan list for myself. Doing anything with a plan makes me feel at ease. So I hate trouble; trouble is anything that disrupts my plans. The feeling of being "arranged" makes me very uncomfortable; there are some things I am willing to do, but I don't like it when it's "what you want me to do"—because that always puts a lot of pressure on me. I feel a bit indifferent. Most people dislike goodbyes, but I don't have any special feelings about them. Maybe at a certain moment, I might suddenly feel emotional, but I quickly calm down. I know that I am powerless in the face of goodbyes; they are always unchangeable. I think this is probably because since I was eleven, I have been constantly saying goodbye and reuniting with the people I love the most. Now that I have grown up, I don't know how many nights I have tried to close my eyes before sleep, going back to comfort that little version of myself. I look at her: it was a late autumn morning, the air was cool, and there was a little girl sitting by the roadside, a bit dirty, with rosy cheeks, a strong face pretending to be indifferent, watching her mother board a bus to the distance, gradually fading away. Just moments ago, she was pretending to be strong, but as soon as she turned around, she burst into tears, pitifully unable to help but call her mother to say, "I can't bear to part with you." The words I wanted to say were interrupted by deep breaths and the tightening in my throat. I take her hand and softly say, "Dear, it's okay; you are not alone. Your sister will always be your support. Don't be afraid; your sister will take you to fun places."...