Embracing Wholeness: The Journey Beyond A Single Enneagram Type

Hidden Keys

Imagine finding an intricate key tucked away in a lesser used drawer. This key, unique and unexpected, fascinates you with its design and craftsmanship. For a moment, it captivates your attention, making you wonder about the lock it opens. However, when you realize it doesn't belong to the main door you use every day, you are tempted to dismiss its value, relegating it back to the shadows of that lesser used drawer. This moment of discovery and subsequent dismissal mirrors a common journey in our exploration of the Enneagram.

It’s a reminder of how easily we overlook aspects of ourselves that don't align with our primary identity.

A House with Many Rooms

The Enneagram serves as a profound guide, offering insights into our deepest motivations, fears, and potentials. Yet, the process of relating to more than one Enneagram type is often met with confusion or doubt. This reaction overlooks the multidimensional nature of our beings, akin to a house with many rooms, each holding different facets of our personality and experiences. While there is a "primary" room where we spend most of our time, the other rooms—those parts of us resonating with different Enneagram types—are no less important.

In my work with Enneagram learners, I've witnessed the struggle many face in pinpointing their "primary" type. They journey around the Enneagram, identifying with traits and qualities of various types, only to set aside these connections when they determine a type isn't their primary. This process can undermine self-trust and diminish the value of personal experiences, as if dismissing that beautifully crafted key because it doesn't fit the front door. This narrative places an abstract model above our lived reality.

My Enneagram Evolution

Here's where my story comes in. Back when both my kids were still in diapers, life was pretty intense, and that's when my understanding of the Enneagram was profoundly challenged, in a good way. For 20 years, I was confident in my identity as a Type 6. Then, a couple of intriguing teachers came along, blending Enneagram insights with ancient Chinese philosophies. They saw me as a primary Type 2. 

It was a curveball that made me pause and really look at myself. I realized I was resonating with Type 2's energetics, especially during that chaotic phase of parenting.

I wasn’t just connecting with Type 2's nurturing side — I was also confronting its stress traits. Underneath the surface, there was this intense need to feel valued and supported by my partner, not just in the day-to-day but in a deeper, more existential way. Even more than a desire to be cared for, my behaviors were a plea for recognition — a silent hope that my partner would understand and respond to my needs without me having to ask.

This period unveiled a complex dance of giving and receiving, so characteristic of Type 2’s approach to relationships.

I Am More Than A Type

For a while, I fully embraced Type 2 as my new “home”, convincing even those closest to me — they saw me as Type 2 as well. But eventually, my familiar Type 6 traits reasserted themselves, illuminating the complexity of our identities. That experience led me to see the Enneagram not just as a way to box ourselves into one type but as a tool to understand the full spectrum of our personalities. It taught me we're more than one type, and that's perfectly okay.

Acknowledging ourselves in multiple Enneagram types does not symbolize confusion but signifies our rich, intricate nature. Every room or type offers unique insights, revealing not only coping mechanisms that limit us but also essential qualities that serve as powerful inner resources.