INFJs have a reputation for something called the “door slam.”
If you’ve spent any amount of time around personality type discussions, you’ve probably seen the memes.
One of my favorites goes something like this:
“Pardon me, but I do not play games. I detach, dissociate, unfollow, block, forgive, and forget your bloody existence.”
It’s funny because… well, there’s some truth to it.
When someone repeatedly hurts me, drains my energy, or brings unnecessary drama into my life, I don’t usually fight back. I don’t stalk their social media. I don’t gather evidence for a revenge arc. I don’t recruit allies for Team Me.
I simply leave.
Quietly.
But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized something.
The “door slam” isn’t really about punishment.
It’s about acceptance.
Most People Aren’t Trying to Hurt You
This might sound naive, but I’ve always believed that most people are fundamentally good.
Not perfect.
Not wise.
Not emotionally mature.
Just… doing the best they can with the information, experiences, and emotional resources they have at that moment.
Sometimes they make bad decisions.
Sometimes they miscommunicate.
Sometimes they choose themselves when it hurts someone else.
Sometimes they say things they regret.
And yes, sometimes we end up hurt because of it.
But hurt and malice aren’t always the same thing.
The internet often encourages us to assume the worst. Every disagreement becomes manipulation. Every breakup becomes betrayal. Every failed friendship becomes evidence that someone was secretly toxic all along.
Reality is usually messier than that.
Most people aren’t waking up every morning plotting how to ruin someone else’s day.
They’re trying to survive their own.
Why Revenge Never Interested Me
Even when I was younger, I never understood the appeal of getting back at people.
What exactly is the end goal?
If I hurt someone who hurt me, am I happier?
If I win an argument months after a friendship ends, have I actually won anything?
I’ve never found satisfaction in those things.
I remember having a falling out with someone who had been a close friend for years.
After the friendship ended, she spent weeks talking negatively about me to mutual friends.
Meanwhile, I said almost nothing.
Not because I wasn’t hurt.
I was.
Losing a long-term friendship is painful.
But talking badly about her wasn’t going to heal that pain.
At one point, a mutual friend asked how I could stay so calm when so many unkind things were being said about me.
My answer surprised her.
I told her that just because our friendship didn’t work out didn’t mean she was a bad person.
It meant our friendship didn’t work out.
That’s it.
I wasn’t interested in rewriting years of memories just because the ending was disappointing.
Not Everyone Is Your Person
The older I get, the more I realize that compatibility matters.
Some people are wonderful people.
They’re just not my people.
When I don’t vibe with someone, I don’t automatically assume they’re toxic, narcissistic, manipulative, or secretly plotting world domination.
Sometimes our personalities simply don’t fit.
Sometimes our values don’t align.
Sometimes our communication styles clash.
And that’s okay.
Not every relationship is supposed to work.
When I genuinely sense unhealthy behavior, I’ll tell people to be careful and pay attention.
But I try not to turn someone into a monster just because they weren’t the right fit for me.
That’s a dangerous habit.
Friends Can Become Strangers
One of the hardest lessons in life is realizing that relationships change.
The stranger you met can become your best friend.
Your best friend can become someone you barely speak to.
A lover can become a memory.
A family member can become someone you love from a distance.
That’s life.
Not every relationship is meant to last forever.
But just because someone no longer belongs in your present doesn’t mean they deserve a permanent place in your resentment.
I’ve learned that it’s possible to appreciate what a person once meant to you while also accepting that their chapter has ended.
Both things can be true.
A Different Kind of Goodbye
Maybe that’s why I’ve never been interested in revenge.
Life already feels short enough.
I don’t want to spend what little time I have carrying anger toward people who are no longer part of my journey.
I’d rather remember the good moments.
The laughs.
The conversations.
The support they gave when they were still part of my life.
And then let them go.
Not with bitterness.
Not with hatred.
Just with gratitude for what was and acceptance for what isn’t.
We can turn strangers into friends.
We can also turn friends back into strangers.
But they don’t have to become enemies.
Sometimes the most peaceful thing you can do is wish them happiness, wish yourself happiness, and continue walking in different directions.
