INTP—Born This Way, or Built by My Childhood? (A Quiet Nature vs. Nurture Debate)

I’ve always wondered—was I born an INTP, or did life quietly shape me into one?

The more I think about it, the more I realize… maybe it’s both.

I grew up in a traditionally Chinese household. You know, the kind where silence is obedience, respect means not questioning, and instructions aren’t suggestions—they’re blueprints for how life should go. My grandparents and parents believed that following rules was the path to a good life. That if I just did what I was told, things would turn out fine.

There wasn’t much room for open expression. Emotions? Keep them tucked in. Opinions? Only if they align with what the elders already think. Even conversations were filtered through layers of caution. I wasn’t encouraged to talk freely—so I learned to think quietly. To process everything internally. To become the observer.

At home, I followed instructions. No resistance. No drama. Just quiet compliance. When it came time to join the family business, I didn’t even argue. I didn’t want it. It didn’t excite me. But I went along with it. I still am, technically. Hanging onto a job that doesn’t spark joy because—well, that’s what was expected. And even now, I don’t see much of a future in it. Maybe because it’s never felt like mine.

But here’s the strange part—at school, I was the opposite. In secondary school, I was open, talkative, expressive. I laughed. I joked. I engaged. That side of me existed too. But slowly, as I grew older, it faded. Maybe it was life. Maybe it was pressure. Maybe it was that quiet shift from school freedom to work responsibility. But over time, the words dried up. Especially after entering the working world, I talked less. Shared less. Thought more.

Looking back, I can see both versions of myself clearly:

• The quiet, internal thinker molded by family culture.
• The curious, expressive mind that once had space to speak.

So… am I an INTP because I was born that way? Or because I became that way?

What the Research Says

Turns out, this isn’t just my overthinking talking. Science actually backs up both sides.

📚 Twin studies show that personality is about 30% to 60% heritable, meaning we are partially born with the traits that shape who we become. That includes things like introversion, curiosity, and even our capacity to regulate emotion.

But that leaves a huge chunk—40% or more—to be shaped by environmental factors like parenting, culture, and life experience. In my case? A traditional upbringing that valued control over expression, and a school system that leaned heavily on fear-based obedience. Both reinforced my habit of internal processing over outward expression.

In fact, a recent study on the interplay of nature and nurture found that socio-cultural conditions heavily influence how personality traits manifest, even if the underlying wiring was always there. So yeah—maybe I was born with the INTP template, but it was my environment that filled in the details.

When Being Quiet Becomes a Survival Skill

INTPs are often seen as detached, aloof, or emotionally closed-off. (More on that in Are INTPs Really Emotionally Detached—Or Just Misunderstood?.)

But what if that wasn’t just personality? What if it was something learned?

In families or cultures where speaking up leads to judgment, criticism, or conflict, being reserved isn’t just natural—it’s smart. It’s safe. Over time, you don’t just prefer to keep things inside… you default to it.

And once adulthood hits, especially in a job or role you didn’t choose for yourself, the space to express gets smaller and smaller. You become the quiet one. The dependable one. The one who doesn’t make waves.

But inside? Still curious. Still questioning. Still thinking.

So Who Am I, Really?

I think I was always wired this way. Analytical. Observant. Independent. But my upbringing taught me how to be this way in a way that felt acceptable. The INTP in me may have always existed—but it was shaped, sharpened, and polished by tradition, pressure, and quiet resilience.

And now? I’m here. Blogging. Reflecting. Trying to reclaim that expressive part of me that once had room to speak freely. Trying to rediscover the joy in curiosity, in learning, in building a life I want—not one that was quietly chosen for me.

Maybe that’s why I started this blog. Not to become someone new. But to uncover who I was underneath all the roles and rules.