Continued from yesterday’s cliffhanger here…

As I explained earlier, I discovered I live with an interesting condition where I subconsciously avoid feeling any of the “vulnerable emotions”, like sadness, fear, and embarrassment.

Something in particular that I don’t fear? I don’t fear being wrong. Because if I did… boy, would I feel silly right now. Or would I? Since I don’t seem to ever “feel” embarrassed… even if I should.

It is no secret I am certified in Enneagram. It is no secret I have published a book about men understanding themselves better through Enneagram, which anyone can easily purchase on Amazon.

And it is also no secret that I have publicly identified as an Enneagram 9 Wing 8.

But after my (joke of a) New Year’s Resolution to “be more vulnerable and more in touch with my emotions”, only to discover I am largely driven by the emotions of joy and anger and that it is my instinct to resist any association of being vulnerable…

It’s all there, black and white, clear as crystal… on the website for The Enneagram Institute:

“Eights typically have problems with their tempers and with allowing themselves to be vulnerable.”

If you’re familiar with the 9 different Enneagram personalities, then you know that Enneagram 8 has a certain reputation of being… well, an “eight-hole”.

Or if you’re looking for a more church-friendly term, we could say “bull headed”, “bossy”, or “control freak”.

Enneagram 8 is the Challenger, the Boss, and the Protector.

The plot twist: I subconsciously attempted to be any Enneagram number except the one that I actually was, because I fundamentally didn’t want to be associated with having a “challenging” personality.

I am not Enneagram 9 Wing 8. I am the inverse: Enneagram 8 Wing 9.

(Nine was such a likeable number, though. The Peacemaker? Oh well, I tried.)

I have been asked several times about how a person’s Enneagram number might be affected by the environment they are raised in: nature vs. nurture. I would say I am an interesting example of how nurture can heavily influence nature, as it relates to Enneagram.

If you have ever been around my parents, you know that they are mild-mannered. They identify as introverts. I was the first born child in the family. I carried with me this idea from childhood- even now I can still hear my mom’s voice from the early 1980’s: “You’re Mommy’s good little boy.”

I maintained this simple idea as part of my identity throughout my teenage years, college years, and adulthood: to be a good boy… and eventually a good man.

While I certainly consider myself to be “good”, as well as friendly and personable, I would never want to be known as a “nice guy”. Because the way my brain works, nice equals weak.

On the inside, I have always been driven by this strong sense of recognizing when something was wrong and being motivated to get involved to correct it and make it right.

This means, at times, being uncomfortably direct or confrontational; in other words, initiating conflict instead of avoiding it.

I think the “nurture” side of me has always been strong enough to redirect my energy, causing me to be a more tamed version of a typical Enneagram 8.

(As a reference, on the “not so tame” end of the Enneagram 8 spectrum, we find Fidel Castro, Saddam Hussein, and Benito Mussolini.)

The “nurture side” of my upbringing led to my dominant wing being a 9 (seeking harmony and peace) and my subtype being “social”; which is the countertype of an Enneagram 8. I am the specific variation of an Enneagram that can resemble an Enneagram 9, or even an Enneagram 2.

Another clue to me actually being an Enneagram 8 is when I go into “stress mode”. What tends to trigger this is when I am in a room where I feel I have no control-  or when I feel I have taken too much control of the room and I realize it:

I shut down. I go silent. I leave the room. I disappear.

In this way, I resemble an Enneagram 5, the most socially reserved.

But since rebooting my life with my family here in Alabama where the culture is much calmer and “chaos as the norm” is now a distant memory, and considering how far along I am in life at age 43, I would consider myself a “healthy 8” at this point.

That implies that while I am definitely always at least “low key intense”, I become the best version of myself when I empower others; which is how I am finding I am choosing to spend a decent amount of free time these days.

I wanted to be the token Paul Rudd; the easy-going guy who gets eventually annoyed but still goes along with what the group wants to keep the peace. And sometimes, I could easily pass as that Enneagram 9.

But the reality is, the actual me has a stage presence much more similar to Robert DeNiro, Joe Rogan, Tom Hardy, Sean Penn, or Johnny Cash:

Enneagram 8 Wing 9, also known as “The Bear”, or “The Mob Boss”.

Back in high school, my senior year in 1999 I was voted “One and Only”. My entire life I have known I am different compared to the average person. How could I not be? Enneagram 8s are the official challengers of all the numbers.

Also my senior year, I casually auditioned for the senior play and was immediately cast as the comic relief/minor villain, “The Wolf”. It’s undeniably the energy of an Enneagram 8 on display. But was I really even acting?

Like Frank Sinatra, one of the most famous Enneagram 8 Wing 9s famously sang, “I did it my way.”

I guess it all goes back to my need for control. Here’s a perfect example: Years ago, I worked in an office where “Casual Fridays” were allowed.

To mock the arbitrary concept of only being allowed to wear jeans on Friday, but not Monday through Thursday, I started “Hawaiian Shirt Thursdays”. I even hung up flyers in the bathrooms to promote the perfect transition to Casual Friday.

A Hawaiian shirt is a button down shirt with a collar, so it didn’t violate the dress code for Thursdays. About a month into it, I had at least a dozen coworkers joining me each Wednesday for the event.

I “challenged” the dress code. Regardless of an official title, I acted like a boss- and people followed me; even if it was all in the name of fun.

So if only “eight-holes” come to mind when you think of Enneagram 8s, hopefully I have now “challenged” you to see us 8s in a new light.

Who knows? Maybe you’re an 8. Or maybe you’re married to an 8.

My wife is married to an 8. I almost feel bad for her. But as I was unpacking my true number, she was “helping” me realize hers:

She’s a 2, the Helper. Makes sense I would need her help.

So what about you? Do you think you might know an Enneagram 8 in your life?

I am curious. Tell me more!