I am Rabbit

How the Enneagram saved my marriage and wrecked some other stuff

The image showed nine Winnie the Pooh characters around the edge of a circle, each one at the tip of a nine-pointed figure in the center. They represented, I read, the nine personality types as described and explained by, well, many different authors, teachers, and online coaches.

I first read about the Enneagram, like many others, in Ian Morgan Crane’s book, The Road Back to You. Then I read about it everywhere.

It is fascinating. By reading descriptions of the nine personalities (or taking a simple online test) you are brought to an acute, and sometimes painful, point of self-awareness. Your strengths and weaknesses are laid out in excruciating detail.

It’s currently the most popular personality test out there, it seems, with books, online quizzes, websites, Instagram “coaches” and some hilarious memes that help us really lock into our type. And lock everyone else into theirs.

After reading that first book about the Enneagram, I delved deeper into a thick workbook that fleshed out my particular tendencies. It was all very captivating because it was all about me.

The Winnie the Pooh version of the diagram showed up in my Pinterest feed, with Owl representing the introverted, studious type 5, Piglet the fearful but loyal type 6, and Tigger the adventurous and enthusiastic type 7. Unfortunately, the least-liked Pooh character, grumpy Rabbit, represented the Enneagram type 1. And that was me.

It was funny-not-funny; the similarities were frighteningly accurate. Rabbit characterizes the Type 1’s tendency to zoom in on details with a critical eye, to be easily irritated, and to want to do everything by the book. But the arrow to my heart came when I shared it with my husband Jim.

“Look, hon, this is so funny, all the 100 Acre Woods characters line up with the Enneagram!”

Jim had not studied the Enneagram one bit, but he was familiar with Winnie the Pooh. He didn’t know a type 1 from a type 24, but before I could show him the cute diagram, he half-laughed and said, “Oh, you are so Rabbit.”

I laughed over the lump in my throat. He was spot on.

As I learned more about the various types, their “wings,” what number they went to “in strength” and “in stress”, I picked out what type I thought Jim was (a 5, or Owl). I had him take a quick, generalized test. Yep. Spot on.

I won’t break down all the type descriptions for you here, but they can be eerily accurate. It’s been said that when you read them, you’ll know which one you are because you will laugh in recognition. Then you will cry.

At first this knowledge brought me a sense of peace. The peg hole I had been placed in felt comfortable, secure. Affirming, almost. For years I had walked around with Rabbit’s wrinkled-up nose toward those who didn’t see things the way I did, those not disturbed by the one plate that didn’t match the others in the cupboard, or the rules that weren’t being followed.

Now my attitude was legitimized. I had honestly thought there was something wrong with other people – especially my husband of 27ish years – who did not respond to things the way I did or see them from the same perspective. I discovered I was part of an elite group, The Perfectionists (or better – The Reformers). But I was also suddenly made aware of the ways that attitude can hurt others and strain relationships.

Please be assured, the Enneagram didn’t need to save Jim and I from dissolving our marriage; we weren’t really on the edge of that cliff. But it helped us - a lot. Learning more about the way Jim approaches life (a mystery to be researched) or people (the fewer the better), opened my eyes to our differences. I developed a new appreciation for the way he encouraged me to slow down and to let go. I was able to see how I came across to him as well – tightly wound, nit-picky.

Looking through the Enneagram Lens

The Enneagram began to bubble up in conversations everywhere, even at church. A group of us who had read through The Road Back to You got together a few times to talk about it. Without a clear purpose other than to commiserate over our failings and giggle at memes, it really didn’t accomplish much.

I noticed, however, that condescending comments like, “Spoken like a true Type 3” and “He’s such an 8!” crept into conversations more and more – including my own. My critical nature became even more annoyed with the other types, and I found myself rolling my eyes at the melodramatic Type 4 and the exhausting Type 7. I felt as though I was slowly growing yellow fur, long ears, and whiskers; the Enneagram seemed to become the only lens through which we saw each other.

Rather than remaining united in Christ, we had become segregated by nine numbers. All of this took place just before the pandemic of 2020 struck, which brought a whole new dynamic to church, friendships, and life in general. Sadly, several friendships disintegrated in the wake of this combination of Enneagram, Covid, and politics.

Looking Through the Lens of Scripture

After a time of healing, I stepped back from my obsession with the Enneagram and pondered the pages of Scripture instead.

I began to see that I have a little of each Enneagram type in me – many of the personality quirks show up in my actions and thoughts, not just the Type 1 delineation. And when held up next to the truth – God’s word – I realize the undesirable traits are all manifestations of my sinful flesh.

Scripture tells me that I was knit together lovingly in my mother’s womb by a creative God, with certain bents already in place. My flesh rears its head every chance it gets, and sometimes those behaviors follow a pattern, yes. But the truth is, I am a flawed human, a sinner in need of a Savior. Though the Enneagram may point out some of those sin patterns for me, it doesn’t provide a solution. Only the cross does that.

God saw the sin that separated me from Him and made a way to bridge the gap through His Son, Jesus Christ. Any good in me is not me at all, but a direct display of the Holy Spirit, who causes the Imago Dei to shine through my cracks.

And because of Christ, God doesn’t see me as “Rabbit.” He sees me as His child.

When my eyes zero in on only me and my pedantic personality, I forget this truth. So while the Enneagram can be interesting, and may even help some relationships, I encourage you to remember: You are not a number. You are His child.