Something about the word, ‘Pussy’ grinds my gears when used in bad context against Type 9s. What, because we fear conflict?
I’ll admit I’m a pussy WHEN I know for a fact that I am being a pussy. But never take a 9 for granted; we are just as powerful as all the other types and we can let you know it, too!
I stand tall with my courage; and I push it forward where it is needed. Perhaps it’s my [lesser dominant] 8-wing coming out… I don’t know. But my 1-wing wants JUSTICE, so I will comment and call out those that are being assholes. I… am not a pussy in that regard…
Alice, my once good friend, used to give me a little praise for asserting myself—- even if the majority of that time it was to internet strangers (again, assholes). She would tell me I was brave when I tackled sensitive or controversial subjects. She said she could never—
As you know it, dear Enneagram Journal, Alice (a Type 1) and I are no longer friends. That’s six years worth of friendship, gone like that. 🫰
Alice has been so avoidant of me at work that it’s become extremely absurd. Alice, the one whom would call other people pussies. Alice, who now sits beside my desk/cubicle at work but has been avoiding coming into the office for a month if I’m present (our schedules are not lining up). But the time has come… she has no choice but to finally see me in person for the first time in a month, and it is glorious. It fell on a day where we’d both be in the office.
I’ve been waiting for this day to come… Honestly when she moved her stuff into my corner of the room, I felt a bit territorial. This was MY SPACE; how dare she do this after she discarded me. And to top it off, today marks our 7th anniversary working together. This would have been our 7th year as friends up until 3 months ago…
So I’m at my desk, waiting patiently for her arrival when suddenly I hear her shuffling down the hallway after she had entered the front entrance to our office. Her feet were approaching. She scurries into her new spot/cubicle to my right and she sets down her stuff on the desk with her back turned towards me to avoid my sight.
I fucking chimed out loud, “😃 GOOOOD MORNING, ALICE!! 🎶”
I could see her shoulders bunch up, “..morning..”, she mumbles, facing the wall.
“Happy 7th Anniversary working for (company name)!”
“..thank you..” she mumbles again and pulls her laptop out of her bag, still avoiding looking at me at all.
That’s all. That was all I wanted to say. I turn my face back to my computer monitor to continue working. My hands are shaky. Gah, these damn nerves….. my hands are trembling after saying just that. Adrenaline fills me. What gives? Was that confrontational?…. Whatever. All I can think about now is I can’t believe I did that. I am brave. Braver than her… “Pussy.” I think to myself.
Some 45 minutes later Margarita (Type 7) walks in to work. She leans in her chair towards me, “I don’t know how you do it. If I were you, I couldn’t handle sitting that close to someone; someone that you used to be close to and now you’re not. I can’t. I just can’t. It’s too tense! I would be moving my desk. I would be moving to the furthest spot in the room!! This is insanity.”
I reply, “Eh. I am bothered but not enough to want to move seats. I was assigned this spot first. All I need to do is just focus on my job.”
Margarita whispers harshly, “How can you focus when you have to look her way?!”
I shrug. Deep down inside my 9-self, I just know how to exist with people, even enemies. I’m good at it. I don’t feel threatened by their mere existence. I follow my own business. I mind myself. I keep to myself as long as they do too. I don’t let people get to me in ways that I can’t stand to be around them. No offense.. but it lacks maturity to run away from someone just because of a little bit of (ridiculous) drama. I find Alice’s avoidance pathetic but it’s not enough to drive me away. Clearly.
So I ask you… Who’s the pussy now?
