From deprivation to desire.
Posted Feb 08, 2019
Hungering for sexual intimacy? If this hunger exists within you, an innate and known terror can align with your psyche and interrupt the very desire you have. And for good reason. It requires something many people would rather avoid: to actually let yourself be seen and known to another, and, most importantly, to the Self.
This kind of intimacy, the intimacy of internal and external partnerships, the intimacy to be seen As You Are or As I Am, is the trailblazer that primes you for the kind of sexual intimacy you imagine within the core of your soul.
To be loved as you truly are, the part of you that’s vulnerable and can tangle with being transparent needs to come out of the cave. What cave is that, you ask? I think you already know the cave. It’s where you hide, conceal what you know about yourself and rarely invite others to see and be with the real you. What is a real and honest appraisal of the self? Think about the following as part of an intimacy self-assessment and what is hidden from the others and ultimately, the self. Do you disguise…
The you who holds traumatic memories in their hearts.
The you whose temper hides their fear.
The you who laughs yet wants to cry.
Or the you who just wants to be held, but can’t ask for that.
The you who wants more than a hookup, but acts like the hookup is just fine.
The you who is terrified of sexual dysfunction.
The you who never says no, rarely setting boundaries for fear of being left out or cut off.
The you whose desire to please another outweighs their own needs.
The you who is stuck in their sense of loss and grief.
There’s a certain grief, a sense of loss you feel when in the deprivation of intimacy cycle because what you long for creates metaphorical starvation. That is the deprivation. What is deprivation but a sense of scarcity and impoverishment? Here it is the impoverishment of the sexual self.
As the hunger gets louder, sounding rather abrasive, feel it in your body, move with it in the world. It’s knocking, knocking so loudly. Yet, what you’ve done in the past, at least up until now, is ignore it, playing the “this won’t last forever” mind game, mythically believing that some god- or goddess-like creature will rescue you. Unfortunately, there is no Zeus whose hand will come down and make it better for you, nor is there a Demeter who will fight for you. This is your task. Stop the hiding, stop the cogent reasons why cave-life is preferable, stop choosing the pain you know over another kind of pleasure.
Let’s be clear here: This is not a conversation about sex, and it’s very much a conversation about sex. Sex is not intimacy and intimacy is not sex. Yet, the two are very much happy bedfellows. Sex is not the cure for intimacy. Yet, intimacy offers sexual transformations both personally and interpersonally.
What is intimacy? Two short definitions that I love are “into me you see” and “into me I see”—when you combine both of these definitions, there’s less hiding. If you're hiding from the self, how can anyone see you or you them? Perhaps they meet shadows of you, shadows lurking in the dark. When the darkness prevails, it’s hard to get into the rawness and courage that intimacy requires.
The lyrics in the first stanza of Katy Perry’s popular song, “Into Me You See” speak to this hiding:
“I built a wall so high no one could reach
A life of locks, I swallowed all the keys,
I was petrified, only knew how to hide,
They can’t hurt me, if they don’t know me
A full façade, made a mirage out of me.”
One of my favorite quotes about stopping the façade is in the unfunny, yet at times poignant movie, The Love Guru, spoken by the character, Guru Pitka: “I want you to go from nowhere to NOW HERE” because NOW HERE is part of being and knowing the self and the shared self in partnership. It’s another way to intimacy and fulfilling the desire of being truly with another.
Try it. What do you have to lose? That sense of deprivation and dismantling the cave!
I'd like to leave you with this last quote:
“Intimacy is the capacity to be rather weird with someone—and finding that that's ok with them.”
―Alain de Botton