I’ve been doing some exploration of the “Enneagram of Personality” lately, and I have discerned that I am very clearly an Enneagram Four. This has been a fascinating journey, as I’ve found insights about who I am, why I might be this way, and how I can grow. This is one of a series of posts reflecting on my experience with the Enneagram. For more information about this series, see the first post here.

“Fours are also a challenge in relationships because they’re concerned about reexperiencing the abandonment they endured or perceive they endured as children.” (Ian Morgan Cron & Suzanne Stabile, The Road Back to You, 160)

Just as Cron and Stable wrote, I have indeed been a challenge in relationships. Let’s take romantic relationships. Let’s take high school romantic relationships. Boy, howdy, was I a challenge. I had a few serious girlfriends in high school, and I think I was a good boyfriend in some ways. But I could also be needy, in a particular way. There was a pattern I would get stuck in, a particular conversation I would start. I later started calling this “The Mike Treatment.” I devoted a chapter to the Mike Treatment in my book Darkwater. Here’s an excerpt of that chapter:

Robin and I were sitting on her bed, listening to a Christian rock cassette. “I don’t know what you see in me,” I said.

She smiled, and said, “I love you! That’s what I see in you.”

I knew that was wrong. I shook my head, “No, I just don’t understand. There’s no reason you should love me. I’m completely worthless.”

She grabbed my hand and said, “That’s not true. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re cute. I love the way you hug me.”

My head felt tight. I knew that this was not true. I knew that I had to protect her from myself. I said, “No, I’ve just tricked you into thinking that. I’m worthless. I’m evil.”

She started to kiss me, but I pulled away. I blurted out, “No. I can’t hurt you like this anymore. I have to leave.”

Robin was silent. I heard her get off the bed and sit on the floor, leaning against the wall. I could hear her starting to cry. Apart from that, everything was silent. The Christian rock cassette reached its end and stopped with a loud “CLICK.” Something snapped within me at the same moment, as I realized what I’d done. “Oh my God,” I whispered quietly, quivering with each word. “I am so sorry.” I sat up, and looked at Robin. I saw the tears on her face, and felt my own begin to stream. “I am so sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

I got off the bed and walked over to Robin. I sat down next to her and said, “I am so sorry. I honestly don’t know why I did that. You don’t deserve that. You’re amazing, and I love you, and I just –”

She sniffed, wiped her eyes, and said tenderly, “What? You just what?”

I sobbed a little, took a deep breath, and said, “I just can’t believe I would do this to you. You are the most wonderful person, and look how I treat you. I was right. I do hurt you.” I looked at her. “See, you’re crying. I just made you cry! Maybe I should leave.”

“No,” she said. She put her arms around me. “No, we’ll get through this. Just like we did the last time you did this.”

The last time I did this. That’s the punchline, isn’t it?

Michael J. Scholtes, Darkwater: A Pastor’s Memoir of Faith and Depression, pp. 28-30

So yeah, I was definitely a challenge in a relationship. In Darkwater, I attributed the Mike Treatment to the “Dark Voice,” which is the name I’ve given to my nasty inner monologue, the voice who’s been telling me since childhood that I’m worthless. But now, reading about the traits of Enneagram Type Fours, I’m wondering if there might be another interpretation of the Mike Treatment.

According to Cron and Stabile, the reason why Fours can be a challenge is because we’re “concerned about reexperiencing the abandonment [we] endured or perceive [we] endured as children.” I don’t have any traumatic childhood experience of abandonment. My parents were always loving, and always there. But it does feel accurate to say that I sometimes felt abandoned and alone. I felt like I was different, like I was special, like I just didn’t fit in wherever I was. I’m not sure that abandonment is the best word to describe that feeling, but maybe it fits. I was a misfit, a loner. So yeah – I guess I did perceive some abandonment as a child.

And I also know that I always was looking for someone to change my life, to fill the hole in my heart. I was always looking for a soulmate, longing for someone to “complete me.” And I guess there was always a fear that I wouldn’t fit in in the relationship either. A fear that she’d leave me. And so I wonder if the Mike Treatment was like some kind of cross between that fear and the guilt I always felt as well (which I wrote about in my last post). I was so often on the precipice between pushing people away (because I deserved it), and desperately calling them back (because I was afraid).

This is one of the best things about the Enneagram for me – it’s helping me to look at things from a fresh angle. I thought I had the Mike Treatment all figured out, but seeing it as something related to my “Fourness” is helping me to see it in a different light. It’s helping me to remember that the “Dark Voice” is just a metaphor. It’s just a narrative. It’s a very helpful metaphor and narrative, but it’s helpful to see that there are also other narratives available.

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