The good parts

I remember the day when I knew, without a doubt, that my firstborn son had a melancholy personality. It was a beautiful summer day and we’d spent it doing all of C.’s favorite things — visiting grandmothers, riding bikes, eating ice cream, playing at the park. It was a 5-year-old’s perfect day.

As we drove home, I asked him, “C., wasn’t today wonderful?”

After a pause, he replied, “Well, I guess so. But tomorrow will probably be bad.”

Yep, that’s a melancholy, all right. We may not run around screaming that the sky is falling, but we are highly attuned to the fact that things could (and probably will) take a turn for the worse at any moment. As a fellow melancholy, I knew where C. was coming from. Though I did my best to convince him to try to look at the bright side, count his blessings, focus on what was going right, I could still relate to his tendency toward pessimism.

In the 4+ years since that day, C. has come to understand a little bit about his own personality, as well as others’ personalities. In fact, it’s a favorite topic of conversation in our house. We’ve read The Treasure Tree together and talked about how we fit in to its four-animal framework. Chad and I have shared insights we’ve gotten from books on temperament and learning styles. And we’ve all watched L. run wildly around the house, wondering aloud what kind of personality he’s developing. (Which of the temperaments has a tendency toward destruction, black eyes, and throwing fits? Oh wait, I think that’s Standard Two-Year-Old.)

One thing I’ve noticed, though, is how easy it is for C. to look at his melancholy temperament as a curse. He’s been known to say things like, “I want to think positive, but I can’t; I’m a melancholy.” Or, “I know, I shouldn’t be so hard on myself, but I guess I’m just stuck being a melancholy.” It’s as if he sees it as a life sentence: Sorry C., other people get to have happy, optimistic personalities, but you’re stuck with the melancholy one. Better get used to it.

In fact, it had gotten to the point where he couldn’t think of a single, positive aspect about this whole Melancholy Thing.

So the other night, I dug out Personality Plus for Parents and read him the list of melancholy strengths.

A Melancholy child is characterized by these things:

* thinks deeply
* talented
* musical
* true friend
* perfectionist (in a good way — high standards)
* dutiful and responsible
* conscientious
* organized and purposeful

He was surprised — he honestly hadn’t realized that there were so many good things inherent in being Mr. Melancholy. Maybe it’s the cultural connotations that go along with the word “melancholy”: we picture a depressed, mopey individual when we hear that word. Or maybe it’s that the naturally pessimistic melancholy is the temperament most likely to see the negative in his own personality type.

But hearing the other side of things — hearing about the good parts — brought a smile to his face. Even as I read the list, I could see that he saw some of those things in himself. He couldn’t argue with them; he just hadn’t acknowledged them as being an inherent part of who he is before.

Maybe you’re a happy-go-lucky Sanguine. Or a take-charge Choleric. Or possibly a laid-back Phlegmatic. Or perhaps, like C. and I, you are a perfectionist Melancholy. No matter what your natural temperament, there are definitely weaknesses that go along with it. But there are also the good parts. And it’s good to have a grasp of both of them.

For further reading on temperaments and personality types, check out these books:

The Treasure Tree (to read with your young kids)
Personality Plus
Personality Plus for Parents
Nurture by Nature
Different Children, Different Needs
Please Understand Me II (definitely a heavier, more “academic” style)