The Dangers of Being An ENFP Digital Nomad
By: Iris Leung
Tags: Psychology, Travel, Mbti, Commitment, Digital Nomads

While living abroad and traveling for the past six years, I began noticing a pattern. I have this tendency to get bored with a place, and then quickly change locations.

I went from living as an expat in Hong Kong, Singapore, and Vietnam, to spending months at a time in Spain, and somewhere in between — changing cities every week as a digital nomad.

And it always starts and ends in the same way:

At the beginning, I would be raring to go — incredibly enthusiastic, energized, and excited in my new environment. I’d put all this energy into making new friends and having novel experiences. Then some time would pass, and I would tire of my environment. So I’d pack up and go.

When it’s time to go, you know.

And over the years, it got easier and easier. I got better at minimalist thinking, learning to own less and travel light. I also applied the same concept to connecting with people in the places I was in. Learning to feel less perhaps.

And after so many years of packing up and moving on, I would always end up in the same place — back home, burnt out, laying low to plot the next move. But a few weeks to two months would pass and I would always recuperate, bounce back, and go back out into the world in search of the next thing — hopeful as ever before.

This is, in a nutshell, what an ENFP is:

They are easily bored by details and repetition and seek out situations that offer an escape from the mundane. Novelty is attractive to ENFPs and they perceive the world as a place of endless possibility.

Which makes not just travel, but non-stop, full-time, unbridled, unrestricted travel perhaps one of the most undeniably attractive, but also dangerous activities for the ENFP. If it isn’t done right.

Exciting because: Well it’s obvious. With no one stopping you from changing your location as often as you want, life never has to be mundane and novel experiences are just around every corner

Dangerous because: With no way to ground themselves, the ENFP’s lifestyle can become destructive fairly quickly. As much as freedom is on the table (which is core to the value system of the ENFP), so are a myriad of choices. And we all know that too many options can lead to chronic dissatisfaction.

Portugal’s stunning coastline from above.

My perspective was —isn’t new always better than old? Novelty brings such an exhilarating rush of dopamine, and every time I stepped off an airplane or a train into a new location, I get a tremendous hit of dopamine. It is like nothing else and is extremely addictive. ENFPs are in fact, big fans of the dopamine rush.

So I became intoxicated by the feeling of always changing locations when the initial rush of excitement of a new place wore off.

And that’s why the nomad life appealed to me so much, because it presented a very cutting edge idea: What if I could live life hopping from place to place, always feeling that exquisite rush of dopamine? What if the honeymoon never ended?

After all, isn’t those first few months in a new relationship the most exciting? Falling in love is the best part, when your lover can’t be anything but perfect. Try as you might, you can’t see a single flaw in them, and your mind races with desire and unbridled joy at the idea of a new learning opportunity. The world around you glows a little brighter, because you’re completely and irrevocably chemically unbalanced for a brief moment.

Spending a week in the Bernese Alps can lead to unhealthy fantasies about bailing on city life and heading to the hills. Completely unrealistic but hey, you’re in love!

But then reality settles in, and you start to notice the cracks in the pavement. You begin getting annoyed when they always forget to leave the toilet seat down. You stop appreciating the sunset.

Lately I’ve been digging deep down inside to try to maximize the joy in my life, and I realize that the happiest moments in my life were always either with people I loved, or losing myself in a moment at the piano or on a canvas. And what do these two things have in common? They require commitment.

The undeniable truth remains: All beautiful and worthwhile things take time to build.

It turns out, that there actually is more joy to be found when you build something, give it time to breathe, and watch it grow and progress.

Commitment of course, for your average ENFP, is difficult. We are notorious for being unable to follow through on projects. We are idea generating machines, but hardly any good at execution.

A pianist in Nice. You have to chain yourself to the piano to have the freedom to really play.

Commitment requires time, energy, routine, and face time. It demands that you stay put and invest. And most importantly, it expects you to follow through — something that is exceptionally difficult for the ENFP.

But if they can find some way to follow through, something very beautiful can happen.

I learned this firsthand when I committed to learning Spanish and how to dance salsa. I started learning both last year on the road in Barcelona, and quickly realized the importance of paying your dues to learning a new craft.

The highs and lows of the initial skyrocketing stages (which fills you with too much confidence), then reaching a plateau, fighting tooth and nail to push past the plateau (zaps most of your confidence) > only to reach another plateau.

I feel it is similar to climbing a large dune in the desert, only to be faced with a larger dune in the distance when you get to the top.

The largest dune in sight in the Sahara.

This cycle, as it seems, appears to be central to learning any new skill. And it is a beautifully trying, all-consuming, frustrating experience, requiring all the patience in the world as you wait for muscle memory to do its thing.

There is no rushing this process. It’s not a race but a journey.

With these invaluable lessons learned, I’m turning again to face the road. And I’m really excited because I think it’ll be different this time in the very best way.