What’s really going on at Four is the working through of emotional conflicts—the ones that are more than skin-deep. Everybody’s got those kind of conflicts, but at Point 4, working through isn’t a luxury but a necessity. Early in life, we’re doing what other people are doing: trying to grow up, get a job, get a “hold” on life. But those issues that come up at midlife for other people often come up for Fours at an earlier age, even before adolescence. Fours tend to be serious kids; and they tend to ask Mom and Dad serious questions early on, leaving non-Four parents nonplussed. I suspect that a lot of us little Fours sort of scare our parents by broaching subjects that even they aren’t yet prepared to deal with. And that may account for why Four kids can feel alienated from both parents and other kids: because they’re delving into deep stuff much earlier than everybody else—and they’re going much deeper. And that makes people uncomfortable.
I’ve written about my difficulty with parents who were probably a Three (my mom) and a Six (my dad); I sometimes joke that they wanted a compliant little Nine to complete the family. My mom’s familiar refrain was, “Why can’t you just learn to say ‘okay’ ?” You can imagine the response that would evoke in a Four! As an adult, my forays into different (but, to them, exotic forms of spiritual exploration) evoked the same puzzlement; they had a hard time understanding why I didn’t just want what other people did.
Of course, so did I! I spent years wondering the same thing—wondering why I couldn’t settle for what seemed okay for the rest of the populous: a 9 to 5 job working in an office, buying a house, getting married, having kids, and all the rest. But as a Four, it didn’t quite work out for me. Not that Fours don’t do any of those things, but we seldom do all of them—and whatever we do, we don’t do it unreflectively. It’s just not in our nature. It’s one of the things I really like about being a Four: the fact that I can’t help but take the time (and spend the effort) to really work out the ramifications of what I’m doing. I may not always work it out correctly, but I’m always engaged in the process. Afterwards, I’m willing to take responsibility for my choices. And I think that this is something I see in a lot of Fours: when we make decisions, there’s not a lot of second-guessing. We think about things, decide what to do, and then take the consequences, good or bad.
The difficulty for modern Fours is that a lot of us are searching for the kind of context that doesn’t seem to exist in modern society—for a transformative role that involves the transmutation of intense emotions or sexual energy. That’s why we see so many artists, actors, and depth psychologists that are Fours. But there’s something missing (!) from these roles—something deeper and more basic. Perhaps it is part of the lost feminine mysteries, with their temple dancers, high priestesses, and mystics.
Whatever it is, it’s not part of the dominant paradigm these days. And that’s why we see it as missing: because it is missing! We’ve lost something in modern life, something deep and mystical and real. It can be found, but it takes a something of a quest to find it, because it’s not right around the corner.
Fours, like Eights, need something to commit to, something that is truly worthy of our time and energy. When we get committed, we get totally committed, and it can’t be to projects, people, or organizations that we don’t respect. This stuff about Fours coming to terms with “ordinary life”; yes, it’s true, that we need to be able to come to terms with certain things, but sometimes at enneagram events, I’ve felt like people were sort of trying to rub my nose in it—trying to say that I just need to suck it up and settle down to what passes for normality these days. But that kind of prescription doesn’t work for a Four; it only makes us pull away, because we know that other people just don’t understand. As for equanimity: yes, another fine quality, especially if it means the eye within the center of the storm, because that is something I can relate to. But often, it seems to be interpreted as “getting over it”—you know, just letting go of all that intense emotion so you feel nice and calm—so we’re back to transforming Fours into Nines again. (Good luck with that project; it never worked for me.)
I’ll admit that I am attracted to intense experiences, but I don’t see anything neurotic about that; intense experiences are often transformative experiences, and I am drawn to transformation—for better or worse. Transformation sometimes causes deep suffering, and I can’t say I like that part; but I do see benefit in opening to experiences that allow me to throw off unwanted inner baggage. This is different from being melodramatic, although I’m guessing that authentic (but transformative) suffering and melodrama can look much the same from the outside. SP Fours make a clear distinction between the two; we have a distaste for melodrama, being the most practical of our type. Our inner sensitivity tends to be well-disguised. I put on a good show most of the time in the interests of meeting other people’s expectations. That’s okay; it’s a good discipline, as long as I can let my hair down when I’m by myself or with close friends.