Type 2
A Two Apologizes
Amy Zoll
Dear Intense Relationships of a Lifetime,
This is a letter of apology to those of you who I thought needed my love, wisdom, advice, help, etc. Please forgive the arrogance of my thinking that I knew what you needed. I didn’t consciously manipulate you, I thought what I was feeling was sincere.
It is only now, after years of painful repetitions, grace, gentle therapy, and the wisdom of the Enneagram, that I dare look at the truth—how I was meeting my needs through you. I can now see what you all had in common that triggered my own compulsive behavior.
Amy Zoll
Dear Intense Relationships of a Lifetime,
This is a letter of apology to those of you who I thought needed my love, wisdom, advice, help, etc. Please forgive the arrogance of my thinking that I knew what you needed. I didn’t consciously manipulate you, I thought what I was feeling was sincere.
It is only now, after years of painful repetitions, grace, gentle therapy, and the wisdom of the Enneagram, that I dare look at the truth—how I was meeting my needs through you. I can now see what you all had in common that triggered my own compulsive behavior.
Type Two's War with Fat
Shadrach Smit, M.D., and Clarence Thomson
For me, learning about the Enneagram was an “Aha” experience. Five years later, I clearly recall how, after digesting the introductory chapters in Helen Palmer’s book, The Enneagram, I turned the page to the first type she described, type One, and identified with its title, “The Perfectionist,” even before reading the description. By the end of the chapter, there was no doubt in my mind that she was describing my type, and there still isn’t. However, what puzzled me was that I could relate to everything she wrote about point One except the part about anger, the chief “passion” of type One. Not me, I remember thinking, not only do I rarely act angry, I hardly ever feel anger.
It was only when I began tuning in to my inner monologue that, to my horror, I recognized the constant stream of judgmental thoughts, resentments, and righteous indignation. Yes, type One is definitely me, disguised anger and all. Today, despite a lot more self-awareness, I still at times find myself in a trance of righteous indignation, unwilling to let it go because, after all, I’m right and how could they do this! But I’m getting better, and I can usually recognize my trance and laugh at myself.
Shadrach Smit, M.D., and Clarence Thomson
For me, learning about the Enneagram was an “Aha” experience. Five years later, I clearly recall how, after digesting the introductory chapters in Helen Palmer’s book, The Enneagram, I turned the page to the first type she described, type One, and identified with its title, “The Perfectionist,” even before reading the description. By the end of the chapter, there was no doubt in my mind that she was describing my type, and there still isn’t. However, what puzzled me was that I could relate to everything she wrote about point One except the part about anger, the chief “passion” of type One. Not me, I remember thinking, not only do I rarely act angry, I hardly ever feel anger.
It was only when I began tuning in to my inner monologue that, to my horror, I recognized the constant stream of judgmental thoughts, resentments, and righteous indignation. Yes, type One is definitely me, disguised anger and all. Today, despite a lot more self-awareness, I still at times find myself in a trance of righteous indignation, unwilling to let it go because, after all, I’m right and how could they do this! But I’m getting better, and I can usually recognize my trance and laugh at myself.