Intimacy means deeply knowing another person and in return feeling deeply known. This does not occur in a quick conversation in a bar or even during sex. Sometimes feeling deeply known does not correlate with being understood either. However, the willingness to actively listen to the other person to ensure the other person feels deeply known is a start towards personal and emotional intimacy.
What does this look like you ask? Great question! I can mostly explain and describe what it looks like on a superficial level, AND what I’ve done and what I’m continuing to do moving forward to be deeper and more meaningfully intimate. After careful consideration and processing there are a few historical events that I’m going to share, which significantly contribute to my being guarded and fearful of commitment as intimacy.
When I was a child I was sexually abused. This trauma created a mistrust in adults. Not only a mistrust, but a belief that (because they were relatives) this was “love.” I won’t get into the details of that part of my life, but I will say, this was during an impressionable time of developing attachments and learning who I can trust and not trust to provide structure and security. This also left me feeling a sense of worthlessness.
A couple years after my last memory of being abused, I learned what infidelity was and that when it happens, there is screaming, crying, and lies. (Who the hell wants that???) But that’s fixed itself and all was better after a short time…fast forward through years of angry emotions, miles and distance separating loved ones, ultimately another betrayal, then divorce. Which led to the feelings of being unwanted and unlovable.
Seeing this happen in my immediate and close outer circles of my life, in addition to my abuse, I knew when I was fourteen, marriage and children were not in my life plan. Boyfriends were kept secret, and if they got too close or said the word “love” (which, who says that after a week?) Who in their right mind would love me? I would find negative things about them to focus on, like their hair, they were “too nice,” they didn’t fit a mold(which was completely unattainable). Then I’d ignore them and be passive aggressive (gosh, I was a bitch).
Walls were a part of my life since I was under five years old. By the time I was fifteen, they weren’t just walls. They were five foot wide and twelve foot tall steel reinforced concrete walls that had barbed wire electric fence as an ornament. Some of this changed when I was turning seventeen. Sweet goes a long way. But it turned out to be more sour than sweet. About this time I was physically accosted by a “friend” who denied the intent to rape…
But I was fully aware of his intentions. He was going to have sex with me without consent, then turn it around on me that I teased him and changed my mind. He told me no one would believe me and I may as well do it. I almost considered doing it, then quickly kicked him so hard I’m surprised he has kids. My reputation still became tarnished. He and his family were unkind and spread hurtful gossip that left my “sweet” relationship broken. After that reinforcement I was done. DONE.
The next few years flew by with meaningless relationships (except my girls). I only connected on a sexual level with partners to protect myself. It was fine for awhile. Then it was time to find a husband. Ugh. The best thing that came from marriage one, his two kiddos. The divorce was barely in the works and husband number two was in the making. I realize now I that kept each relationship at arms length. Completely disconnected from what real intimacy was.
I tried. However, it was superficial at its best but I’m guessing enough for them to be happy some. I felt love beyond measure and suffering that cannot be described when it was time for having babies. Then heartache from infidelity, yet again. I stayed. I reinforced walls. This time they were wider and taller and had a dam surrounding the wall.
Then the unimaginable happened. Years later a single and intense interaction ignited a new fear and excitement in me. Fear and excitement for so many reasons. The most being, that during that time, my situation was such that something was unattainable. Not because I couldn’t, but because I wouldn’t. Then just like that the “I couldn’t” changed to I could, but “still won’t.”
In the past I would have. Easily. But I am not the same person I was then. I don’t want to build a wall or guard from irrational fears. I want real. I want sincere. No games. No guessing. No passive aggressiveness. I do feel tremendous guilt for this happening…but I know there is nothing I can do about my past. Moving forward it’s going to be different. I am slowly learning and I am practicing what I learn.
Writing this today has left me feeling guilty and raw and honestly, being able to see that I’m still pushing people away. Unconsciously and deliberately. Who wants to feel pain on purpose besides Christian Grey? It’s tormenting. I hate it. I smile today because I asked myself what “is going on with me, right now?” Then I challenge the negative with neutral and positive statements. They work most of the time.
Today is a slight exception. I’ll go and exercise and then have a glass of whiskey (maybe), but I’ll still suffer through my grief and smile knowing that this will be my past someday. I know someday I’ll be ready for something different and when it comes it will be real.
Whiskey Momma 