4-Dimensional: You Complete Me

This is one in a series of posts about my recent interest in the “Enneagram of Personality,” and how Type Four is a perfect fit for me, and also offers me insight and potential growth. For more information about this series, see the first post here.

“Because of a lack of self-confidence, Fours are often looking for someone who can complete them and with whom they can build a satisfying relationship.” (Suzanne Stabile, The Journey Toward Wholeness, p. 145)

I was always on the lookout for a girlfriend. When I was a teenager, I was looking for “her.” She, whoever she was, was The One. She was going to answer all my questions, fill all my holes, solve all my problems, and complete me. I felt so broken in so many ways, so empty, so needy, and somehow I believed that finding the right girlfriend would solve everything.

I never dated casually in high school or college. Someone recently told me that in their philosophy of dating, you really should date someone for only one of two reasons: either you’re having fun, or you view them as a potential spouse. Anything in between is just a waste of time. For me as an adolescent, it was not about having fun. It was definitely about finding my future wife.

When I was fourteen, I had my first kiss. It was in an elevator, and the first words I said after our lips parted were, “I love you.” She said something like, “You need some sleep.” She and I dated for about two months, and I was already planning our wedding. That breakup, like every breakup to come, was really hard for me.

Every girlfriend I had, and I had about nine (who am I kidding, I had exactly nine), was a potential wife. Every one of them was potentially The One. As it turns out, I had one The One every year from age 14 through 22, and that last one stuck. I’ve been married to her for more than twenty years.

I was a child of the 80s, a teenager of the 90s, so mixtapes were a huge part of my life. I made mixtapes for friends, mixtapes for girlfriends, mixtapes for myself. I made a special mixtape for myself called “MMM,” which was short for “Mike’s Mood Music.” These were songs that had very special meaning to me, songs that touched my emotions in a deep way, songs that I would listen to when I wanted to dive deep into melancholy and not look back. It became more than just a mixtape, it became something dynamic, something that I would update every year or so. As I discovered new songs, I would add them, replacing ones that weren’t as perfect anymore. The mix usually included songs like “King of Pain” by the Police, “What a Good Boy” by Barenaked Ladies, and “One” by U2, just to name a few. Lots of melancholy songs about loss and yearning – no surprise to me now, the more I learn about being a Four on the Enneagram.

The song that often closed the MMM mixes was “Somebody” by Depeche Mode. While Depeche Mode was certainly a moody, melancholy band, “Somebody” wasn’t that kind of song. It was a sappy love song, like a goth ballad. It starts: “I want somebody to share / Share the rest of my life / Share my innermost thoughts / Know my intimate details.” So earnest, so po-faced. But it was exactly who I was. That’s what I was looking for – somebody.

And I’ll be honest – I didn’t find that “somebody.” Because she doesn’t exist. Because in the end, the completion of myself isn’t something that can be filled by another person. Turns out that broken and empty feeling is just part of being a Four. And now that I see that, there are other ways to go about looking for healing.

But I will say that I did find somebody who makes me laugh, who brings out the best in me, who tries to understand me and still loves me even when she doesn’t understand, who is an outstanding mother to our children. Someone who is one of the most kind and compassionate people I’ve ever known. My wife didn’t complete me. But I love her and she loves me, and it’s a healthy love.