The Worst Nightmare of Every Myers-Briggs® Personality Type

Want to know what the 16 Myers-Briggs® personality types are really afraid of? Today we’re going to dive into the quirky, sometimes baffling world of personality psychology, and discover what makes each type wake up in a cold sweat. Let’s begin!

Not sure what your personality type is? Take our thorough personality questionnaire here. Or you can take the official Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI®) here.

The Worst Nightmare of Every Myers-Briggs® Personality Type

Estimated reading time: 25 minutes

The INFJ

We begin with the INFJs, those rare, empathetic unicorns who seek deep, meaning-filled connections and live to serve the greater good. Now imagine, if you will, the INFJ’s worst nightmare: a world brimming with chaos, in which every turn seems to lead to a tragic car accident.

One day, they wake up and walk outside to a scene straight out of a Michael Bay movie. Cars swerving, honking, and crashing into each other with reckless abandon. But that’s not even the worst part. Every time they get behind the wheel, they somehow manage to crash into a loved one’s car. Even Aunt Martha, who hasn’t ventured outside her house since the 80s, has somehow managed to get hit.

Their days are filled with the heartache of attending one funeral after another. Every eulogy is a repetition of the last, and they’ve got it down to a science. “We are gathered here today to…,” they pause, glancing at the crowd, “I’m sorry, whose funeral is this again?”

In the midst of all the chaos, the world around them turns shallow, void of any depth. People are no longer driven by noble aspirations or the desire to make a difference. The latest craze is a game where you throw a stick and see how far it goes. The one who throws it the furthest wins, and everyone spends their days practicing their throw. The INFJ tries to explain that there’s more to life, but all they get in return are blank stares and a, “Dude, you just don’t get it, do you?

Every conversation is about the stick throw, and no one cares about anything remotely deep or controversial. The INFJ can’t take it anymore. They miss the meaningful conversations, the sense of community, and the joy of making a difference. Welcome to your nightmare, INFJ! In this world, the shallowness is as deep as it gets.

Find out more about INFJs: Why INFJs Feel “Weird”

The INTJ

Now we delve into the world of the INTJs, the masters of logic and strategic planning. Let’s take a moment to imagine their deepest, darkest nightmare. Picture this: they wake up one day to find themselves in a world where every decision is made using a magic 8-ball. No strategy, no planning, just pure randomness. These are desperate times.

They attend a meeting at work, and instead of discussing the latest project and aligning on tasks, everyone pulls out a magic 8-ball. “Should we launch the product next week?” they ask, shaking the ball fervently. “Ask again later,” it commands. The room erupts in cheers – it’s a successful meeting in their eyes.

After surviving the meeting, they have to sit through a dinner party where every conversation is about the latest reality show and the most viral TikTok dance. No deep intellectual discussions, only discussions about which celebrity has the best ‘Renegade.’ They feel an existential dread creeping up their spine – they have forgotten the steps of the dance they watched once.

To top it off, on their way home, they find that technology has turned against them, their beloved sanctuary. Their GPS is in a mood, leading them on a wild goose chase around the city, their home automation system has decided to play a relentless loop of the ‘Baby Shark’ song, and their phone’s predictive text has started replacing the word ‘why’ with ‘yo mama.’ Welcome to your nightmare, INTJ! This is your personal Twilight Zone.

Find out more about INTJs: The Childhood Struggles of the INTJ

The INFP

INFPs, known for their deep feelings and creativity, now it’s your turn to dip into your nightmarish dystopia. Imagine this: Suddenly, you awake to find yourself in a world where every emotion is replaced by data. The new greeting is not “How are you?”, but “What’s your productivity score?”. You’re forced to quantify your feelings on a scale of 1 to 100. Feeling a deep existential despair because the barista messed up your latte order? That’s a -37 on the emotional productivity index.

At work, instead of brainstorming creative marketing ideas, you’re slogging through spreadsheets that analyze the optimal color of the office stapler for productivity. The world is black and white, except for the red and green of Excel spreadsheets.

And the ultimate horror? Poetry is replaced by instruction manuals. Your favorite bookstore now sells only user manuals for appliances, where a sweet sonnet once stood, now rests the riveting, “How to assemble your flat-pack furniture”.

The horror doesn’t stop there. You go to an open mic night, expecting soulful tunes but the performer on stage reads aloud from the operating instructions for a microwave. The audience snaps their fingers in appreciation. “Oh, the section on setting the timer… so deep, so profound!”

As a final blow, at the end of the day, when you reach out to your loved ones to share your feelings, all you hear is, “Error 404, sentiment not found.” Take a bow, INFP, welcome to your worst nightmare!

Discover more about INFPs: 7 Ways That INFPs Make an Impact

The INTP

Oh, INTPs, the knowledgeable philosophers of the typology world, who thrive on solitude and in-depth analyses. Let’s take a moment to indulge in your worst nightmare: a world where solitude is a crime and everything is decided based on feelings rather than logic. In this dystopia, you wake up and the first horror hits you – the quietness of your own room, your sanctuary, is broken by a law enforcement drone floating outside your window, blaring: “Your alone time is up! Social interaction in 3…2…1…”

Suddenly, your room fills up with people, all eager to engage in the most dreaded activity known to your species – small talk. You’re pelted with a barrage of “Nice weather, huh?” and “How about that local sports team?” There’s no escape, and the concept of personal space has mysteriously evaporated. You try to dive into a deep conversation about string theory, but the room falls silent, the drone blares “Violation! Independent thinking detected!” and everyone quickly returns to discussing the importance of avocado toast in their brunch routine.

In a desperate attempt to escape, you retreat to work hoping for some semblance of reason. But horror of horrors, all decisions are now made based on feelings, not facts. The new project isn’t assigned based on a comprehensive analysis of skill sets, but on who feels like they can do it. Your suggestions of logical reasoning are met with confused stares and then promptly ignored. The drone buzzes over your head, reminding you, “Remember, feelings first!”

And the final nail in your nightmare coffin? Your cherished library of textbooks and scientific journals is replaced with self-help books, all of which have ‘feelings’ in the title. You pick one up and flip through the pages, hoping for a hint of scientific reasoning but all you get is “10 steps to validate your feelings”, “Your feelings are your superpower”, and “Feel your way to success”.

You sit in a corner, clutching your head as your world crumbles around you. You’re stuck in a never-ending loop of small talk, emotions, and drones warning you of your violations. Brace yourselves, INTPs! This is a bad dream you’ll never forget.

Discover more about INTPs: Understanding INTP Thinking

The ENFJ

Alright, ENFJs, grab your comfort blankets and buckle in. Let’s plunge into the depths of your nightmare: entering a world where personal connection is outlawed and empathy is a dirty word. You, the empathetic mentor, are thrown into a dystopia where everyone communicates solely through written memos, void of any emotional context. In this frightful reality, you wake up to find your loved ones replaced by emotionless androids who respond to your morning greetings with, “Processing…processing…response: Morning acknowledged.”

At work, team building activities and collaboration are replaced with solitary confinement in cubicles. You’re left yearning for the camaraderie of a lunch break with friends, but all you get are endless power-point presentations with too many bullet points and not enough personal anecdotes. The colorful notes of appreciation you used to leave on your coworkers’ desks have been replaced by anonymous performance evaluations, delivered by emotionless drones.

Social gatherings are no better – they’re replaced by synchronized solitary activities. Picture this: you reach the park, ready for your weekly community service, but all you find are people in separate sectioned-off squares, each picking up one piece of trash at a time. When you try to strike up a conversation, they respond, “Communication not necessary for task completion.”

The ultimate horror unfolds when you return home, hoping to share your day with your family. Instead of engaging in warm, heartfelt chats about each other’s days, everyone is plugged into their individual screens, watching separate videos and responding to your heartfelt stories with automated messages: “Acknowledged. Proceeding with pre-scheduled activities.”

Your world of personal connection and empathy has been replaced by isolation and impassiveness. Welcome to your worst nightmare, ENFJs! This is your personal House of Mirrors, where every reflection is a cold, emotionless stare.

Discover more about ENFJs: Understanding ENFJ Feeling

The ENTJ

Brace yourselves, ENTJs, we’re taking a dive into your worst dream imaginable: a world where hard work is a myth, competition is as outdated as dial-up internet, and productivity is a crime. In this Kafkaesque alternate reality, you, the Captain of Industry, wake up one day to find that your alarm clock doesn’t ring because it’s not fair to the other clocks that can’t ring.

Your day starts with a meeting, but it’s no ordinary meeting. Here, there is no agenda, no targets, and no deadlines. Why you ask? Because everyone’s efforts are equally appreciated, irrespective of their contribution. The person who spent hours formulating the perfect plan is equated with the one who only showed up for the free donuts. The room erupts in applause, not for an innovative idea, but for the person who just located the lost remote for the presentation screen.

At work, there are no promotions, no accolades, no recognition. Your hard-earned projects? They’re now group assignments where your meticulous work is buried under the haphazard contributions of your team members. Team members who spend more time deciding what to order for lunch, than actually working on the project. You try to take charge, but you’re met with, “Whoa, easy there, tiger. We’re all winners here.”

The end of the day doesn’t bring any respite. You reach home, hoping to wind down, only to find that your favorite show, Shark Tank, has been replaced by a telecast of collective farming. You tune into the news, expecting some semblance of serious world affairs, only to find the headline, “World Peace Achieved: Everyone Agrees to Disagree.”

And the cherry on top of your nightmare cake? The constant, self-righteous lectures on your supposed lack of empathy. They tell you that your objective approach to problem-solving is cold and unfeeling. They look at you with pity when you don’t tear up at the emotional manipulation of a commercial. And when you try to defend yourself, you’re silenced with a condescending, “Shhh! You might hurt someone’s feelings.”

Welcome to the dystopia of your mind, ENTJs: a world where your strengths are viewed as weaknesses, achievement is a four-letter word, and efficiency is as extinct as the T-Rex. Enjoy the ride!

Discover more about ENTJs: 10 Things That Terrify ENTJs

The ENFP

Prepare for a shudder, ENFPs, as we dive into your Worst. Nightmare. Ever: a world where free-spirited exploration is exchanged for mind-numbing conformity. Try envisioning this: you, the champion of creativity, wake up in a dystopian world that treats new ideas like they’re chewed-up bubblegum.

Your day begins with a calendar notification on your phone: “9:00 am – Protocol Council Meeting.” You’re half-tempted to toss the phone out – you’d rather have a root canal, thank you very much – but you bravely soldier on. At the meeting, your every suggestion is met with a condescending smile, and a patronizing voice intones, “That’s not how we’ve always done it, honey.”

Lunch breaks are spent, not in lively debates or sharing quirky and interesting trivia, but in the company of colleagues monotonously rehearsing company history. They look at you with quirked eyebrows when you pull out your punk rock lunch box, a sly reminder of your refusal to conform.

You try to insert a bit of individuality into your work, but the Compliance Police are always hovering. The moment you brainstorm a fresh idea, sirens blare, and a voice booms over the loudspeakers, “Conformity Violation! Return to the Traditional Method Immediately!”

Evening activities are no better. You head to the park, hoping for a lively game of Frisbee, but all you find are hordes of people in gray uniforms, symmetrically arranged, meticulously raking leaves in unison. You shout a friendly hello, hoping to disrupt the monotony, but the only response you get is a drone hovering above, flashing a sign that reads, “Keep calm and conform.”

Your best friend, once a bubbling spring of diverse ideas and heated debates, is now an echo-bot, repeating the same sentence, “The weather is nice today.” Desperate for some semblance of profound conversation, you try to steer the chat towards existentialism. “Don’t you ever wonder about our purpose in life, or if there’s a parallel universe where we’re both potatoes?” But all you get in return is the dreaded, “The weather is nice today.”

You then try to discuss the latest episode of ‘Black Mirror,’ only to watch in horror as your friend pulls out a literal black mirror, staring at it with a robotic, “The weather is nice today.” Even your attempts to reminisce about your crazy college days – the impromptu road trips, the midnight philosophical debates – fail miserably, as your friend responds with a glazed look and the ever-repetitive, “The weather is nice today.”

Welcome, ENFPs, to a world where your vibrant technicolor has been replaced with grayscale monotony. This is your very own dystopian world, where every corner you turn, you’re met with the droning chorus of, “But that’s the way we’ve always done it.”

Find out more about ENFPs: 7 Reasons Why You Need an ENFP Friend in Your Life

The ENTP

Steel your nerves, ENTPs, as we descend into your personal nightmare: a world where debate is considered a deadly sin, and innovation is as welcome as a skunk at an outdoor wedding. Picture this: you, the devil’s advocate, wake up to discover that any form of argument is considered a breach of civil conduct.

Your morning coffee is replaced by a cup of ‘Consensus Tea’ and the daily newspaper is just a series of agreeable headlines without the hint of controversy. “World Leaders Agree: No More Disagreements” screams the front-page headline. You choke on your tea.

At work, brainstorming sessions are replaced by ‘Harmony Huddles’, where everyone is busy agreeing with each other. The mere suggestion of a different perspective is met with gasps of horror and a chorus of, “Can’t we all just get along?”

Lunch breaks, once your battlefield of wit and repartee, are now ‘Peaceful Picnics’. The only challenge you face is deciding between the bland chicken sandwich or the equally bland tuna salad. You try to start a lively debate on the merits of each, but all you get are blank stares and a mumbled, “Can’t we just enjoy our meal?”

Your attempts at ingenuity at work are thwarted by the ‘Innovation Inspectors’. As soon as you think of a novel approach, a blaring siren goes off and a voice announces, “Overthinking Alert! Please return to the pre-approved method.”

Evening activities don’t fare much better: all competitive sports are replaced with cooperative games where everyone wins. You watch in horror as soccer games end in a 0-0 draw with both teams jumping for joy because, “We all played together!”

And the final blow? Every time you propose a new project or idea, you’re met with a patronizing lesson from the past. Welcome to you unsettling dreamscape, ENTPs. Steel yourself for the monotony!

Find out more about ENTPs: 5 Ways to Annoy an ENTP

The ISFJ

Grab your earplugs and brace yourself, ISFJs, as we embark on a journey to your personal hell: a world where tranquility is an extinct species, surprises lurk around every corner, and your beloved family members are perpetually at odds.

Imagine this utterly un-peaceful scenario: you, the guardian of harmony, wake up to the cacophonous sound of a marching band outside your window. The shrill notes of the trumpet replace the sweet chirping of the birds and the drumbeats rattle your morning coffee cup.

Your much-cherished morning routine, once a calming routine of gentle yoga and quiet reflection, is replaced by a Surprise Workout Challenge that involves learning a new aerobic routine daily. You nearly drop your dumbbells in shock the first time the instructor yells, “Surprise! Today, we’re doing aerial silk yoga!”

At breakfast, your family members, usually peaceful as a summer’s day, now mimic a scene from a reality TV show. The air is thick with tension as they argue about everything from the superiority of Cheerios over Wheaties to the correct method of buttering toast. You try to mediate, only to be met with raised voices and flying spoonfuls of scrambled eggs.

Work is no better. Instead of your well-organized desk and predictable tasks, you’re greeted with a Surprise Assignment Roulette. Each spin of the wheel determines a random task that you must immediately complete, regardless of your current workload. The constant uncertainty sends your stress levels through the roof.

Upon your return home, you hope for a quiet dinner to soothe your frayed nerves. But, oh the horror, your family has decided to host an impromptu neighborhood potluck. You smile through gritted teeth as the once tranquil house is filled with the sounds of clattering dishes, overlapping conversations and, yes, even more disagreements over inane subjects.

Welcome to your worst nightmare, ISFJs: a world where peace and predictability are as rare as a a dinosaur sighting and your sanctuary of harmony resembles a rock concert. Brace yourself for the mayhem!

Find out more about ISFJs: 24 Signs That You’re an ISFJ, the Protector Personality Type

The ISTJ

Hold on to your logic caps, ISTJs, as we dive into the depths of your personal horror show: a world where reliability is frowned upon, and people have traded their sensible shoes for cloud-walking boots. Picture yourself, the pillar of pragmatism, waking up to find that the sun has decided to rise in the West, just for a change of scenery.

Your morning coffee curdles because the milk has decided to identify as orange juice, and the newspaper is filled with articles such as, “Scientists Agree: Gravity is Just a State of Mind” and “Why We Should Relocate to Mars: An Argument for Unrealistic Daydreams.”

Your office, once a haven of order and efficiency, is now a chaotic circus of whimsy. The computers have stopped operating logically and now respond to interpretive dance commands rather than keystrokes. Meetings are transformed into ‘Imagination Infusions’, where graphs and spreadsheets are replaced by finger-painting sessions and everyone brainstorms on how to turn the company into a safe space for people who have been oppressed by structure and rules.

Lunch breaks are now ‘Unreality Recesses’, where employees eat floating sandwiches and the water cooler dispenses hot chocolate mixed with rainbow sprinkles. Attempts to organize and make sense of this madness are met with bemused chuckles and an airy, “Oh, you’re so grounded in reality!”

After work, you head to the bank only to find out that currency has been replaced by imaginary gold coins and fairy dust. You try to argue the irrationality of it, but the teller simply shrugs and says, “In dreams, we trust.”

And just when you think your day can’t get any more chaotic, you return home to find your living room turned into an indoor jungle because your family wanted to “feel closer to nature”.

Welcome to your worst nightmare, ISTJs: a world where your steadfast realism is as valued as a chocolate thermos and your need for order is drowned in a sea of fantastical chaos. Strap in for a rough, reality-defying ride!

Find out more about ISTJs: Are ISTJs Rare? A Look at the Detective Personality Type

The ESFJ

Fasten your empathy belts, ESFJs, because we’re about to traverse through your personal house of horrors: a world where your loving nature is met with cold silence, your efforts end in accidental family tragedies, and your adorable puppy is the newest star of a horror flick. Picture yourself, the paragon of people pleasing, waking up to find your family members engaged in a championship of the Silent Game with you as the unwitting target.

Your cheery “Good morning!” is met with frosty silence. Your attempts at cooking breakfast end in disaster as you accidentally pour orange juice into the cereal bowls and spill hot coffee on your spouse’s favorite shirt. The horrified gasps and the immediate evacuation of the kitchen make you feel like you just unleashed a culinary apocalypse.

Your day at work, usually filled with friendly chatter and teamwork, is replaced with a chilling quietude. Your colleagues stare at you as if you’ve sprouted a second head, and your attempts at conversation are met with icy silence. You begin to feel like the main character of a pantomime show gone wrong. Every time you look down at yourself, you realize an unfortunate article of clothing is mysteriously absent.

At home, things take a turn for the worse. Your well-intentioned attempts to fix the broken TV result in a small explosion and your family fleeing the living room in terror; your little sister’s hair caught on fire. Your favorite potted plant wilts instantly when you water it, and even the lasagna you baked for dinner somehow burns. The family eats it in a way that would, at best, be described as “passive-aggressive.”

And then, the coup de grace: your adorable pet puppy Max, usually wagging his tail and eager for cuddles, has now morphed into a snarling beast with beady red eyes and a scythe for a tail. Every time you approach, he growls menacingly, sending a shiver down your spine.

Welcome to your worst nightmare, ESFJs: a world where your warmth is met with the cold shoulder, your caring gestures result in sitcom-worthy disasters, and your pet pooch is auditioning for “Pet Sematary”.

Find out more about ESFJs: 7 Things That ESFJs Experience as Children

The ESTJ

Sharpen your sense of absurdity, my dear ESTJs, because you’re about to embark on a terror tour of your least favorite emotional theme park: Feelingsville. Be prepared, for this is an alternate universe where logic is laughed off, business decisions are made using emotional compasses, and ‘unpacking your feelings’ is the new Monday morning meeting.

Welcome to your day, the acme of practicality, where you wake up to find that your alarm clock has skipped its job in favor of having a ‘personal day’. Your coffee maker refuses to brew your favorite blend, stating that it’s ‘just not feeling it today’. Your toast pops out half done because the toaster believes in ‘doing what feels right’.

Your drive to work is no better – stoplights have decided to follow their hearts instead of standard color codes. Green means ‘Go if you feel like it’, Red is ‘Stop, unless you’re feeling particularly rebellious’, and Yellow… well, Yellow is having an identity crisis.

The office, once your fortress of productivity, is now a symposium of sentimentality. Business decisions are now made following ’emotional forecasts’ and instead of data-driven reports, your team presents you with artful collages of their feelings about the upcoming project. The boardroom has been renamed the ‘Heartroom’, and strategy sessions are now ‘Sensitivity Circles’ where everyone speaks their truth, however inconvenient it may be for the company’s bottom line.

Your lunch break is an ‘Empathy Eat-In’, where colleagues share their deepest insecurities while munching on kale salads. You come back to your desk to find your computer requesting a day off because it’s ‘feeling a bit overwhelmed’.

Returning home, you find your family engaged in an intense debate about whether the house ‘feels’ happy with its current paint color. The consensus is ‘a change of scenery might do the house some good’. Your attempts to argue the impracticality of it all are met with ‘Dad, you really need to sit with your feelings about this.’

Welcome to the most frustrating dream world possible, ESTJs: a world run by the whims of feelings, where rationality is as useful as diet water and your much-loved order has been replaced by emotional chaos.

The ISFP

I’m sorry, ISFPs, but you knew your turn would have to arrive eventually. Your nightmare unfolds as your alarm clock rudely rouses you from your dream, where you were swimming in the Havasu Falls of the grand canyon while a family of adorable gray foxes frolicked nearby.

Instead of your usual attire of vintage jeans and band tees, your wardrobe is replaced with identical gray suits and ties. You look like you’re about to attend a conference for ‘Accountants Anonymous.’ You’re horrified to find that your favorite art supplies have been replaced with spreadsheets and pie charts. Your soulful guitar? Traded in for an abacus.

Off to work, where you’re not the resident graffiti artist but the office drone in cubicle 23B. You’re surrounded not by vibrant murals and abstract sculptures but by stacks of paperwork and a buzzing fluorescent light overhead. Creativity is not encouraged; it’s replaced by cold precision and the sterile logic of numbers.

Your lunch break, usually your oasis of calm, is now a mandatory ‘Team Building Exercise’ with a relentlessly cheerful facilitator named Chad. Chad insists on trust falls and group hugs. You’ve never yearned for solitude more.

Back home, instead of your peaceful sanctuary, you find your living room transformed into an ‘Open House Party.’ Your quiet reading nook is now the epicenter of a raucous game of charades, and your tranquil garden is hosting a yodeling competition.

Welcome to your worst nightmare, ISFPs: a world where your artistic expression is replaced by the dreariness of conformity, your individuality is swallowed by a sea of gray suits, and your peaceful solitude is overrun by extremely shallow, yodeling strangers. Keep calm and brace for impact!

Find out more about ISFPs: 10 Things That Excite the ISFP Personality Type

The ISTP

Grab your safety helmet, ISTPs, because you’re about to plunge headfirst into a terrifying abyss of your personal horror: an existence where your independence is shackled, your toolbox is empty, and micro-management is the new normal. Imagine waking up to find your beloved motorcycle replaced by a minivan with automatic transmission and a “Baby on Board” sticker. Your jaw drops as you find your garage – once a sanctuary brimming with tools and unfinished projects – morphed into a yoga studio, complete with soothing pan flute music and a lavender scent wafting through the air.

Your job, formerly a hands-on job filled with variety and metal, is now a never-ending string of Zoom meetings with people whose names you can’t remember. There’s no dirt under your nails, no sweat on your brow – instead, you’re forced to make small talk about the weather and nod empathetically at Janice’s toenail fungus woes. Lunchtime rolls around and instead of your usual on-the-go sandwich, you’re expected to sit through a virtual ‘Mindful Eating’ seminar, where everyone chews in sync and discusses the texture of their quinoa.

Coming home, you’re greeted by a “Honey-Do” list longer than the Nile, and for every task you tick off, two more miraculously appear. Your attempts to escape to your private workshop are thwarted when you realize it’s been converted into a shared family space for ‘Quality Time’. Each night ends with a horror you never envisioned – mandatory group cuddles and a movie night featuring nothing but romantic comedies.

Yes, ISTPs, get ready to face the terror of the overbearing “we” in every aspect of life.

Find out more about ISTPs: The Top 25 Favorite ISTP Movies

The ESTP

Prepare for a whirlwind of frustration, ESTPs, as we dive headfirst into your personal dystopia: a world populated by slowpokes, impracticality, and an inexplicably large number of micro-managers. It’s like being stuck in a marathon where everyone else is walking, but you’re not allowed to break into a run. Hold steady, you’re in for a bumpy ride.

Imagine this: you, the embodiment of quick wit and practical action, wake up in a world where everyone moves at a snail’s pace. Your morning run is thwarted by pedestrians who seem to have all the time in the world, strolling leisurely in the middle of the paths, oblivious to your desperate pleas of “Excuse me!”

Work is no better. Instead of quick decision-making and active problem-solving, every tiny task is dissected into a dozen different theories and examined under a metaphorical microscope. You feel like screaming each time someone says, “Let’s theorize on this a bit more” when there’s a perfectly practical solution staring them in the face.

Lunch breaks, your oasis of deliciously straight-forward choices, turn into a nightmare as the menu is replaced by a convoluted food theory. You just want a simple burger, but the waiter insists on discussing the socio-cultural implications of choosing beef over tofu. You swallow a groan along with your over-analyzed lunch.

The afternoon is a circus of micro-management. Your every move is scrutinized and you’re constantly reminded to “slow down” and “take it easy”. You nearly explode when your boss, with an irritatingly placid smile, asks you to dial back your efficiency to match the team’s pace. It feels like being a Ferrari stuck in a traffic jam of tractors.

Evening activities, your go-to for adrenaline rushes, are replaced by contemplative theory-discussion groups. Instead of hitting the gym or the basketball court, you’re expected to sit in a circle and discuss the philosophical implications of not emotionally reacting to every single emotion the minute you feel it. You begin to wish for a power outage.

Welcome to your worst nightmare, ESTPs: A world where speed and practicality are treated as vices, and theoretical discussions are the order of the day.

Find out more about ESTPs: 24 Signs That You’re an ESTP, the Daredevil Personality Type

The ESFP

Cover your favorite stuffed animals eyes, ESFPs, because we’re about to journey through your own private circle of hell: a world devoid of spontaneity, devoid of excitement, and jam-packed full of rules and regulations. Picture waking up in a world where every minute of your day is meticulously planned out, from the brand of toothpaste you use, to the number of chews per bite during breakfast. Your colorful wardrobe has been replaced with gray, unappealing, velour pant suits, and your charismatic personality is expected to be replaced with bland professionalism.

At work, instead of being the life of the party, you’re cornered into a drab 9-to-5 desk job. Forget about impromptu dance-offs or karaoke sessions, welcome to the land of paperwork, deadlines, and never-ending meetings about customer satisfaction metrics. Your creative ideas are frowned upon, replaced by standard procedures and ‘by the book’ methodologies.

Lunch breaks, previously an opportunity to explore the newest food truck or dine at the hippest café, have been replaced with a pre-packed, nutritionally balanced, color-coded meal plan. You feel like you’ve been sentenced to a lifetime of eating cardboard and slime when you bite into your egg salad and kale wrap.

Your evenings, once filled with spontaneous trips, random adventures, and lively parties, are now blocked off for ‘productive leisure activities’ like knitting and cataloging your stamp collection. Even your beloved music festivals have been replaced with symposiums on 17th century Baroque music, where you’re expected to ponder and discuss the existential implications of a half-step modulation in Bach’s fugues.

Welcome to your worst nightmare, ESFPs: a world where spontaneity is considered reckless, parties are replaced with symposiums, and your vibrant life is drained of color, replaced by a monotonous grayscale. Keep your chin up and your party hat at the ready, this may get rough!

Discover more about ESFPs: 10 Things You Should Never Say to an ESFP

What Are Your Thoughts?

Do you agree with these descriptions, or do you have your own unique ideas about what would constitute a personal hell for each of the personality types? Whether you found this read horrifying, hilarious, or somewhat relatable, be sure to leave your comments below.

If these glimpses into the humorous hells of the 16 personality types sparked your curiosity, then buckle up, because we’re just scratching the surface. For a deeper dive, check out my eBooks, Discovering You: Unlocking the Power of Personality Type, The INFJ: Understanding the Mystic, The INFP: Understanding the Dreamer, and The INTJ: Understanding the Strategist. Each book offers an immersive journey into understanding the unique quirks, strengths and challenges of these personality types. Keep in mind, these books are not humor books, so if you’re looking for laughs, you may be disappointed.