I know exactly how confusing we can be when we like someone. And I’m not going to sugarcoat it—we’re absolute disasters at showing romantic interest.
I’ve let three legitimate relationships slip through my fingers because I was too busy “protecting my heart” and waiting for some cosmic sign that never came. I’ve spent entire weekends analyzing a two-minute conversation, convinced myself someone didn’t like me based on zero evidence, and yes—I’ve accidentally liked an Instagram post from 2016 while doing “research” on a crush.
Not my finest moment.
The Myers-Briggs Type Indicator identifies INFPs as one of the four idealist personality types, and our primary cognitive function—introverted feeling (Fi)—means we experience emotions with nuclear-level intensity.
But our inferior extraverted thinking (Te) makes us terrible at actually doing anything about those feelings. It’s like having a Ferrari engine with bicycle brakes.
So if you’re trying to figure out whether an INFP is into you, you’re essentially trying to decode a personality type that’s simultaneously falling head-over-heels for you while also avoiding eye contact and pretending you don’t exist. Fun times.
TL;DR: How to Know if an INFP Likes You
INFPs are horrible at showing they like you directly. Instead, look for these patterns:
- They avoid you but watch you constantly (yes, both at the same time)
- They become either super awkward OR suddenly talkative around you (no middle ground)
- They stalk your social media religiously but never interact with your posts
- They remember tiny details about conversations from months ago
- They share their creative work, favorite books, or deep thoughts with you
- They do small, thoughtful things you never asked for
- They become friends with your friends to learn more about you
- They text you frequently but struggle with in-person conversation
- They ask deep, probing questions about your values and dreams
- Their creative output suddenly reflects themes related to you or love
If you’re seeing 5+ of these signs, there’s a 90% chance that INFP is into you but too terrified to say it. Now, let me break down exactly what’s happening in our chaotic INFP brains.
1. The Avoidance Paradox (We Ignore You Because We Like You)
This is the most maddening sign, and I’m embarrassed to admit how often I’ve done this.
When I developed a crush on a colleague in 2021, I literally changed my walking route through the office to avoid passing his desk.
Meanwhile, I knew his coffee order, his birthday, and that he had a rescue dog named Pepper because I’d memorized his entire LinkedIn profile.
Here’s what’s actually happening: INFPs with crushes experience what I call “emotional overload syndrome.” Our introverted feeling (Fi) is processing feelings so intense that when we’re physically near you, we can barely function. It’s not that we don’t want to talk to you—it’s that we’re terrified our face will betray the fact that we’ve already planned our theoretical wedding in our heads.
Research on INFP behavior patterns from 16Personalities confirms that we’re one of the most conflict-avoidant types, and to us, revealing a crush feels like emotional combat.
So we retreat.
We avoid eye contact.
We suddenly become very interested in our phones when you walk by.
But here’s the tell: While we’re physically avoiding you, we’re also stealing glances constantly. If you catch an INFP looking at you and they immediately look away like they’ve been caught committing a crime—that’s your sign.
I once literally walked out of a room when my crush entered because I “forgot something in my car.” I didn’t forget anything. I just panicked.
2. Social Media Stalking Without Engagement (The Silent Observer)
I’m going to confess something mortifying: I once accidentally liked a Facebook post from 2009 while researching a crush. I unliked it in 0.3 seconds and then didn’t sleep for two days worrying if they got the notification.
INFPs are world-class social media investigators.
We know your favorite band from that concert photo you posted four years ago. We know your sister’s name and that you went to Costa Rica in 2018. We’ve read every book recommendation you’ve ever posted.
But we won’t like, comment, or react to a single thing.
Why? Because engaging would reveal our hand.
To us, clicking “like” might as well be sending a singing telegram that says “I’VE BEEN OBSESSING OVER YOU FOR MONTHS.”
The exception: If an INFP accidentally interacts with your old content, that’s basically a love confession. They were definitely deep-diving your profile.
Pro tip from experience: After I stopped torturing myself with this behavior, I learned that normal, healthy people just… talk to each other. Revolutionary concept. Took me 28 years to figure that out.
3. The Awkwardness Amplifies (Or We Become Suddenly Chatty)
There’s no middle ground with INFP crush behavior.
We either become mute statues who’ve forgotten how human conversation works, or we become hyperactive golden retrievers who won’t shut up about the symbolism in the last movie we watched.
When I had a crush on someone in my book club, I went from thoughtfully contributing to discussions to either saying nothing or launching into ten-minute monologues about completely random topics.
One time I spent fifteen minutes explaining the history of the Oxford comma.
THE OXFORD COMMA😮💨.
What’s happening: Our extraverted intuition (Ne) is either completely offline due to emotional overload, or it’s gone into hyperdrive trying to impress you with how interesting and quirky we are. Neither mode is smooth.
Signs to watch for:
- Stumbling over words that we normally use perfectly
- Nervous laughter at things that aren’t funny
- Suddenly becoming very focused on a random object in the room
- Over-explaining simple concepts because we’re terrified of silence
- Blushing when you say our name (yes, even at 30+ years old)
My experience: I once completely forgot the word “window” while talking to a crush and said “wall glass” instead. I still think about this at 3 AM sometimes.
4. We Ask Deep Questions (The Values Assessment)
Here’s where INFPs diverge from other personality types.
We’re not interested in surface-level attraction.
Our introverted feeling function means we need to know if your values align with ours before we can even consider pursuing something.
So if an INFP likes you, get ready for questions that feel like a job interview for your soul:
- “What’s something you believe in that most people don’t understand?”
- “If you could change one thing about the world, what would it be?”
- “What’s the most meaningful experience you’ve ever had?”
- “What do you think happens when we die?” (yes, really)
This is critical: INFPs don’t date casually. Studies on intuitive feeler traits show we’re seeking genuine connection with depth and meaning. Before we reveal our feelings, we need to ensure there’s real compatibility at the value level.
I spent three months having coffee with someone before I admitted I liked them, because I needed to know their stance on social justice, their relationship with their family, their life philosophy, and whether they believed people could genuinely change. (Yes, I’m aware this is intense.)
If an INFP is interrogating your belief system, they’re not being weird—they’re trying to figure out if you’re worth the emotional risk.
5. Thoughtful Gestures (We Show Love Through Actions)
INFPs speak the language of thoughtful observation.
We won’t buy you expensive gifts, but we will remember that offhand comment you made three months ago about loving a specific type of tea, and suddenly that tea appears on your desk.
Real examples from my INFP life:
- I once made a Spotify playlist for a crush based on a single conversation about their childhood music memories
- I brought someone a specific brand of chocolate they mentioned missing from their hometown (I spent an hour finding it online)
- I sent articles I knew would interest them, with personalized notes about why I thought they’d appreciate them
This connects to love languages and emotional expression patterns. INFPs are notorious for showing affection through acts of service and quality time rather than words or physical touch (at least initially).
The psychology behind this: We’re terrified of rejection, but we’re compelled to show we care. Small, deniable gestures give us plausible deniability. “Oh, I just happened to see this and thought of you” sounds less risky than “I’ve been thinking about you constantly.”
After 2 years of therapy: I now realize this is both sweet and slightly dysfunctional. But hey, we’re working on it.
Read also: INFP Love Language: #5 Things That Make Us Feel Truly Loved
6. We Share Our Creative Work (The Ultimate Trust Signal)
Listen carefully because this is HUGE:
If an INFP shares their poetry, writing, art, music, or any creative project with you, they’re essentially handing you their soul on a silver platter.
INFPs have incredibly rich inner worlds.
Our creative output is often the most honest expression of our feelings.
I write poetry, and I’ve only shown my personal poems to maybe five people in my entire life.
When I shared a piece with someone I was interested in, I was literally trembling.
What this means: Our creative work reveals our authentic selves—our fears, hopes, dreams, and yes, our feelings for you. If you read between the lines of whatever we’re sharing, you’ll often find subtle (or not-so-subtle) references to the person we’re crushing on.
From experience: I once wrote a short story that was painfully obviously about someone I liked. When I shared it with them, they said “this is really good” and completely missed that the main character was literally them. INFPs are screaming through our art while hoping you understand the message without us having to say it directly.
This also applies to:
- Sending you songs with meaningful lyrics
- Recommending books that reflect our worldview
- Sharing philosophical quotes or poetry
- Showing you places that are meaningful to us
If an INFP is opening their inner world to you, that’s them saying “I like you” in INFP language.
7. We Become Friends With Your Friends
This is sneaky, but effective.
INFPs are strategic in the most unassuming way possible.
If we can’t get close to you directly (because anxiety), we’ll become friends with your friends to learn more about you and increase the chances of “randomly” running into you.
I once joined a hiking group because I knew my crush was friends with the organizer. Did I like hiking? Not particularly. Did I endure three months of weekend hikes to potentially see this person? Absolutely.
The INFP crush strategy:
- Identify people in your social circle
- Befriend them authentically (we’re not fake—we actually do want to know them)
- Gather information about your interests, relationship status, and personality
- Engineer “coincidental” encounters
- Hope proximity will eventually force interaction
Real talk: This sounds manipulative written out, but it doesn’t feel that way when you’re doing it. It feels like careful planning to maximize the chances of organic connection while minimizing rejection risk.
8. We Text More Than We Talk
Here’s a pattern you’ll notice: An INFP might be awkward and quiet around you in person, but suddenly becomes Shakespeare when texting.
I’ve had full philosophical debates via text with crushes while barely being able to maintain eye contact in person.
Why texting is easier for INFPs:
- We can edit our thoughts before sending (no word-vomit incidents)
- There’s time to craft the perfect response
- No risk of blushing or nervous laughter giving us away
- We can express emotional depth without the vulnerability of face-to-face interaction
Signs an INFP likes you through text:
- Long, thoughtful messages (not one-word responses)
- Frequent check-ins (“how was your day?” “thinking of you”)
- Sharing random thoughts or observations
- Sending memes or content that made them think of you
- Late-night conversations that go deep
My personal record: A 3-hour text conversation at 2 AM about the nature of consciousness with someone I could barely speak to at work. Introvert behavior at its finest.
9. We Remember Everything
INFPs have an unnerving ability to remember tiny details about people we care about. It’s not intentional—our brains just file away everything about someone we’re interested in.
Things I’ve remembered about crushes:
- Their childhood fear of thunderstorms (mentioned once, casually, 8 months ago)
- Their sister’s birthday
- The name of their favorite teacher in third grade
- That they prefer their coffee with exactly one sugar, no cream
- The specific shade of blue they were wearing the first time we talked
Why this happens: Relationship psychology research shows that when we’re attracted to someone, our brains encode memories about them more deeply. For INFPs with our dominant Fi function, this effect is amplified. Every interaction with someone we like gets stored in our emotional memory bank.
The test: If an INFP references something you said weeks or months ago that you barely remember—they like you. We don’t have photographic memories for everyone, just people we’re emotionally invested in.
10. We Become Protective
INFPs are natural empaths and defenders.
When we like someone, we become quietly protective of them, even if we haven’t expressed our feelings.
How this shows up:
- Defending you in conversations when you’re not around
- Supporting your projects or goals enthusiastically
- Getting upset when someone treats you badly
- Checking in when you seem down or stressed
- Offering help before you ask for it
I once spent an entire lunch break arguing with someone who’d said something dismissive about a person I liked. The person I was defending didn’t even know about the conversation, but I couldn’t let it slide.
This connects to our cognitive functions: Our Fi makes us deeply sensitive to injustice, especially toward people we care about. Our inferior Te might make it hard for us to pursue you directly, but we’ll absolutely go to bat for you behind the scenes.
11. We Want to Spend Quality Time (But Make It Seem Casual)
INFPs value quality time as a primary love language, but we’re terrible at asking for it directly. So we engineer situations where spending time together seems like a natural coincidence rather than a date.
INFP invitation tactics:
- “I’m going to this art exhibit, want to come?” (definitely want you to come)
- “I’m trying this new coffee shop, need company” (please be my company)
- “I’m rewatching this movie, you should watch it too” (watch it with me, please)
- “I found this hiking trail, interested?” (please be interested)
What we’re really doing: Creating low-pressure environments where meaningful conversation can happen. We’re not asking you on a date because that requires acknowledging our feelings. We’re just… suggesting activities we’d enjoy doing together. Totally casual. (Not casual at all.)
My biggest failure: I once invited a crush to a museum and spent the entire time walking through exhibits in painful silence because I couldn’t figure out how to start a conversation. We INFPs are excellent at creating opportunities and terrible at capitalizing on them.
12. Our Creative Output Shifts (Love Becomes Our Muse)
I mentioned sharing creative work earlier, but here’s the deeper pattern: When INFPs have crushes, our entire creative output shifts thematically.
Suddenly we’re writing more poetry.
The stories we write have romantic subplots. Our playlists get mushier.
During one particularly intense crush in 2022, I wrote 47 poems in three months.
My normal output is maybe 5 poems a month. Every single one was about longing, connection, or “someone special” (very subtle, I know).
As the research on idealist personality types notes, INFPs process emotions through creative expression. Love is particularly inspiring because it hits all our core values: authenticity, connection, meaning, and beauty.
If you have access to an INFP’s creative work:
- Look for shifts in themes or tone
- Notice increased productivity in their chosen medium
- Pay attention to recurring symbols or references
- Read between the lines (we’re usually pretty obvious if you’re looking)
Read also: Best Hobbies for INFPs.
13. We Test the Waters
Before fully revealing our feelings, INFPs run small vulnerability experiments.
We’ll drop hints, share something personal, or mention feelings hypothetically to gauge your reaction.
Examples:
- “I read this article about how hard it is for introverts to date… so relatable” (Are you interested in my dating challenges?)
- Sharing a song with lyrics about unrequited love (Can you read these signs?)
- “Someone I know has a crush but is too scared to say anything, what should they do?” (I am someone, you are the crush)
- Mentioning you in contexts that suggest future plans (“We should watch that sequel when it comes out next year”)
Why we do this: Our inferior Te means we’re bad at direct communication about feelings, but our Ne is constantly testing possibilities. These experiments give us data about whether it’s safe to be more open.
The harsh truth I learned: Most people don’t pick up on subtle hints. After years of dropping breadcrumbs and waiting for someone to follow the trail, I finally learned to use my actual words. Game-changing.
14. We Get Jealous (But Hide It Poorly)
INFPs aren’t naturally possessive, but when we like someone, we get quietly jealous—and we’re terrible at hiding it despite our best efforts.
INFP jealousy signs:
- Going quiet when you mention someone else you’re spending time with
- Asking pointed questions about your “friend”
- Becoming slightly distant after seeing you with someone else
- Making self-deprecating comments (“They’re probably more your type anyway”)
- Increased moodiness or withdrawal
I once watched a crush laughing with someone else at a party and spent the next hour pretending to be fascinated by a bookshelf. I wasn’t fooling anyone.
The psychology: Our Fi creates deep emotional bonds, even before relationships are established. When we’re invested in someone, seeing them connect with others triggers our insecurity about whether we’re enough.
From 6 months of therapy: This jealousy usually stems from our fear that we’ll never be brave enough to express our feelings, and someone else will swoop in and do what we couldn’t. It’s less about possessiveness and more about our own inadequacy complex.
15. We Eventually Confess (But Often Too Late)
Here’s the final pattern, and it’s perhaps the most frustrating: INFPs almost always confess eventually—we just usually wait until it’s too late.
Common INFP confession scenarios:
- Confessing after the person has moved on or started dating someone else
- Admitting feelings when it’s “safe” (they’ve moved away, the moment has passed)
- Casual mentions of “I used to like you” years later
- Drunk confessions (liquid courage is real)
- Writing it in a letter or text rather than saying it in person
I confessed to a crush three months after they’d started dating someone else. Did I know they were single for the year and a half before that? Yes. Did I say anything during that window? Absolutely not. INFP logic.
Why this happens: Our inferior Te means decision-making and action are our weakest points. We can feel intensely, but acting on those feelings requires overcoming massive internal resistance. By the time we’ve processed everything and worked up courage, the opportunity has often passed.
The lesson I learned the hard way: Waiting for the “perfect moment” means missing every good moment. After my third missed opportunity, I made a rule: If I like someone, I have 2 weeks to tell them or let it go. This forced me to build my inferior Te and actually communicate like an adult.
What to Do With This Information
Okay, so you’ve read the signs and you think an INFP likes you. Now what?
If you’re interested back:
Make the first move. Seriously. We’re not going to. We’ve spent 47 hours building up the courage to make eye contact, we’re not going to ask you out. If you wait for us to be direct, you’ll be waiting until the heat death of the universe.
Be patient with our awkwardness. We’re not playing games. We’re genuinely struggling with emotional overwhelm and inferior Te dysfunction. When we’re weird around you, it’s because we like you too much, not too little.
Value depth over speed. Don’t expect us to jump into physical intimacy or surface-level dating. We need emotional connection first. Give us time to trust you with our authentic selves.
Appreciate the little things. Those small gestures and thoughtful observations? That’s us loving you in the only way we know how before we’re ready to say it out loud.
If you’re not interested:
Be clear but kind. We’re sensitive as hell. A gentle, direct “I value our friendship but I don’t feel that way” is infinitely better than hints, which we will misinterpret while simultaneously overinterpret for the next six months.
Don’t ghost us. Seriously. The ambiguity will torture us. We’ll replay every interaction and create fifteen different theories about what went wrong. Clean closure is a gift.
If you notice an INFP doing these things for you:
Remember that these behaviors represent significant emotional vulnerability for us. We’re not playing games or trying to manipulate you. We’re just absolutely terrified of rejection and probably working through some childhood attachment wounds (hi, that’s me in therapy talking).
Read also: How to Make an INFP Fall in Love with You (The Complete Guide).
My Final Thoughts as a Recovering INFP Disaster
After 30 years of being an INFP and approximately 8 years of actively trying to get better at relationships, here’s what I wish someone had told me earlier: Your feelings are not a burden, and expressing them is not a crime.
I spent most of my twenties convinced that admitting I liked someone would ruin everything. That if they didn’t feel the same way, I’d die from embarrassment. That waiting and hoping and dropping subtle hints was somehow more noble than just using my words.
Spoiler alert: I was wrong. And I missed out on potential relationships because I was too scared to be direct.
The INFP personality type—with all its depth, creativity, and emotional intelligence—is beautiful. Our capacity for deep connection, our authenticity, our idealism about love? These are strengths, not weaknesses. But our inferior Te is a real limitation that we need to actively develop.
What worked for me:
- Therapy (2 years and counting, highly recommend)
- Setting deadlines for action (the 2-week rule I mentioned)
- Practicing vulnerability with low-stakes relationships first
- Accepting rejection as data, not devastation
- Recognizing that not every connection needs to be “the one” (this was huge for me)
The Myers-Briggs Type Indicator identifies our natural preferences, but it doesn’t determine our fate. We can learn. We can grow. We can develop our inferior functions and become better at direct communication while maintaining our authentic INFP nature.
If you’re an INFP reading this and recognizing yourself in every section (sorry/you’re welcome), here’s my challenge: The next time you like someone, tell them within two weeks. Not with hints. Not with subtle gestures. With actual words.
Will it be uncomfortable? Absolutely. Might they say no? Sure. But you know what’s worse than rejection? Spending years wondering “what if” and writing poetry about people who never knew how you felt.
And if you’re someone trying to decode an INFP’s feelings, I hope this guide helps. We’re not trying to be confusing. We’re just doing our best to navigate emotions that feel bigger than our ability to express them. If you see these signs, throw us a bone and make the first move. We’ll be forever grateful.
About the Author: As a verified INFP-A who’s survived multiple failed crushes, three years of therapy, and countless hours overanalyzing social interactions, I write about the messy reality of being an introverted idealist trying to navigate relationships. I’m not a therapist or relationship expert—just someone who’s made every mistake in this article and lived to write about it.
Read also:

