10 Years in Colombia as an INFJ: I Still Struggle to Start Conversations, But I’ve Found Home
It was 10 years ago this July that I moved from the United States to Colombia with my family. One way I've made sense of that remarkable decade is through the lens of personality type — specifically, what it means to be an INFJ navigating a world that wasn't built for how I think, listen or speak.
Being an INFJ has made certain things harder here, and certain things surprisingly easy. Sometimes the same trait does both.
Facing the Social Challenges
When I arrived I had only rudimentary Spanish, which had been fine back home because my Colombian wife was fluent in English. Here, I'd need to go much further, both to survive and to build real connections with her family, who were now a central part of our lives.
All INFJs have an instinct to listen carefully, and that has definitely helped. My wife is a gregarious ENFJ who naturally takes the lead in most social situations, which relieves the pressure on me to make small talk or jump in before I'm ready. I can stay quiet, pay close attention to what's being said, track the emotional temperature of the room, and choose my moments to contribute something considered, like a relevant question or a genuine opinion on something.
But I've never pushed past that into real fluency. On my own I go quiet, and withdraw more than I'd like. Two traits in particular have worked against me.
Introversion
All INFJs are introverted, but even within that population I sit near the extreme end of the spectrum. In everyday life abroad, opportunities to practice a language are everywhere, but you have to take them. You have to initiate, stumble, recover, try again. Most extraverts do this naturally, as part of their everyday socializing. I don't. Even in English I have little appetite for casual conversation with people I barely know, and that reluctance doubles when a language barrier is involved. Countless moments that could have sharpened my Spanish passed by unused simply because starting felt like too much.
Perfectionism
Getting comfortable in a second language requires a willingness to be awkward and wrong in public: to mispronounce things, grope for words, finish a sentence somewhere different from where you started it. That has always been difficult for me. If I'm going to speak to someone in their native language I want to get it right. INFJs will understand this viscerally — when we put on our big kid pants and take the initiative, our perfectionism follows us in. And so I dwell on the clumsy phrasing, the wrong verb form, the pause that lasted a beat too long, and beat myself up for not being more eloquent.
It's only in the last couple of years that starting conversations in Spanish has started to feel possible, and even now mainly with my wife's family and close friends. A decade in, I still find it hard with people I know only casually or am meeting for the first time.
What has saved me from real isolation is something I didn't anticipate: a significant number of Colombians are actively learning English or have studied it at some point. When a native English speaker is around, Colombians get very eager to practice, which means they come to me. I may not be especially popular, but my English is. I genuinely enjoy helping people test what they've learned; this is a meaningful service I can provide, and it satisfies my social needs without demanding more energy than I have. For an INFJ, that's a near-perfect arrangement.
My Home Away from Home
Despite the language struggles, I feel completely at home in Colombia. Living here, rather than just visiting, meant that I was immersed in the culture from day one. That obviously made for a far richer experience, especially for someone like me who loves observing people and learning about their lifestyles.
One of the biggest surprises was discovering just how family-focused Colombians are. It’s common for two or three generations of family members to live together, often in separate residences on different floors of a multi-storey house. In this inclusive environment, those who marry into a family are greeted warmly and accepted by everyone. Everyone gets to know each other, fast!
This is different from my experience in the US. Back home, even with extended family, I always felt more like an outsider, like someone who didn’t quite fit in. We all lived separate lives with less direct contact, so many of them (including my older siblings) didn’t get the chance to really know or understand me. This has been less true here. Yes, it has been awkward at times, with me wishing I’d felt more confident with my Spanish. But overall I’ve loved being embraced, despite treasuring my alone time.
I’ve also been accepted in another community of sorts, one related to my identity as a “music parent.” Colombians have a deep love for music of all types and that has benefited my son, a talented musician who is enrolled in a national music conservatory and has performed in multiple youth contests around the country. It also benefits me, as the parents of other young musicians have formed a close-knit community bonded by mutual interest and a spirit of friendly competition. My wife and I have been welcomed by other music-loving parents with open arms, and in my case especially by parents who’ve been studying English and are dying to strike up a conversation (I’m usually happy to oblige).
Experiencing the Joys of Cultural Immersion
We INFJs are empathetic, and surprisingly attentive to detail. Both have served me well here. They helped me adjust my behavior and get in sync with the rhythms of Colombian life. I've developed a deep appreciation for what makes Colombians distinct, while equally coming to understand how similar people are, regardless of where they were born and raised.
Over my decade here we’ve taken a couple dozen mini-vacations to music festivals in different regions. I’ve been able to bask in the cities, mountains, forests and coastal landscapes; in the diverse sights, sounds, tastes and passions that define Colombian culture. I’ve observed all the nuances and reflected on how they compare to what I understood about the world before. Many of these places were not high-density tourist destinations, so I got a more authentic view of how Colombians in different regions actually lived (and we all know how much authenticity means to an INFJ!).
One fascinating aspect of Colombian life is how crowded and busy public areas are in comparison to the United States. In commercial and residential districts alike, Colombian streets are lined with restaurants, grocery stores, clothing stores, printing shops, ice cream parlors, bakeries, pharmacies, shoe stores … the list goes on and on. Parks and malls are usually full of people as well, which is not always the case these days in the US. There’s a constant buzz of activity, which you might think is “too much” but is actually ideal for an INFJ who loves to look, listen and learn.
I know I'm in for culture shock when I return to the United States, despite having lived there far longer. During my time in Colombia I've never been homesick or felt like an outsider. This is home, and I believe that reflects how readily an INFJ can adapt to circumstances that offer genuine personal growth and a deeper understanding of how different people live.
Is Moving to Another Country Right for INFJs? Yes!
Taking the leap is easier now than it's ever been, especially if your job allows you to work from anywhere. And for INFJs who may be worried about forging those deep emotional roots, or losing their peaceful “home sanctuary,” I’m here to say that living in another country will satisfy many of your most essential needs. It will stretch your emotional and intellectual boundaries as you develop a more informed perspective about life and culture in other parts of the world. You’ll enjoy an intense and authentic human experience, one that you wouldn’t be able to re-create by watching travel videos or reading books. If you’re lucky, you’ll form a few meaningful friendships with amazing people, who will be as eager to learn about you as you are to learn about them.
Moving to another country is likely to be more difficult if you do it alone. I know it would have been harder for me without the support of my extraverted wife, who helped me make connections that might otherwise have been impossible. And I would definitely recommend studying not just the language, but also the culture itself ahead of time, so you’ll know what you’re getting into and feel more confident about your ability to adjust.
If you move abroad there will be challenges, and in some moments you may wish you were more extraverted, less sensitive or less worried about saying something wrong. But those moments will pass, and the rewards are very much worth the fleeting discomfort.