I've long given up on expecting others (mortal beings that is) to understand me. Because despite the INFJ thingy, us human persons really are walking enigmas, walking mysteries that transcend the totality of comprehension by other mortal beings. After all, no one can really know what it's like to be in your shoes - to feel the particular way you feel, to think your thoughts, experience the way you experience. Despite commonalities, distinctness is always there. We can't even know ourselves totally and completely - we are mysteries unto ourselves (though we may kid ourselves and claim we know ourselves completely), so how on earth can we expect others to understand us?
I've been there - seeking a sense of self-fulfillment and interior security based on the understanding of others. 'Tis a vain venture, and a house of cards, and it places what I call a God-expectation on mortal beings - expecting them to complete oneself or be like a god one can rely and depend on. My relationships have been freer and deeper since letting go of such an expectation to be understood. Respecting the mystery of the other is vital to a relationship built on trust and mutual understanding - an understanding that is based on the premise: "I can't know you fully, but I love that, and respect that." Often articulating this kind of awareness between two or more persons, about the mystery of each person, can help soften attitudes which place a burden on any kind of bond - to not expect to be fully understood by another, nor to fully understand another. It's a journey into the infinite which can never end. Since by mystery I don't mean something that can't be understood, but something which cannot be fully understood - there's always something more.
It is natural to want to be understood, and on some level it's vital for healthy relationships, it's just that a heavy expectation to be understood ironically poisons the well of being understood. Even now, I have that tendency to become upset, as all people do, when one is misunderstood. Yet I remind myself who am I kidding? I should be surprised if anyone ever does understand me. How often do I myself misunderstand others? More than I would be aware of. All in all, I find my sense of being understood elsewhere. I know I'm understood, even if no one else does, or even if I myself don't!