The attraction of intimacy

I’m basically a 38 year old teenager.

Not because I am immature or naive. It’s because I am inexperienced.

And I say this with a giant grain of salt. Sure, I know how to drive car. File taxes. Cook spaghetti. Console a friend. I am a fully functioning adult who can vote and buy a lotto ticket. If I’m feeling stressed, maybe even order a margarita. You know, important stuff. What I am inexperienced with is regulating healthy emotions. And how that inexperience has morphed a lot of my identity, my relationships, and my self worth into things I can’t quite explain. I am inexperienced in healthy relationships. I am inexperienced with loss and how to cope. I am inexperienced in not attaching my value to peoples opinions of me. I am inexperienced in a healthy romantic dynamics. I mean, I’m not awful at all these things. There’s varying degrees of success. But fulfillment has been much harder to come by. I’ve been thinking a lot about the struggles I’ve endured in the last year. It sometimes felt like God was punishing me or pushing me towards something but honestly, I couldn’t even glance up from the constant downpour of misery that kept overwhelming me. I would feel embarrassed and ashamed and FOR WHAT? Most of these trials were things outside of my immediate control. But I began to close myself off. I began to see myself as the problem. I began to think that maybe, I was just a bad omen and if I shared my misery with anyone, they would either pity me or avoid me on the chance it would rub off on them.

You already know what happened. In typical selfish fashion, I kind of shouldered it all. Then, I began to be sad. Lonely. Tired. Aches. Pains. Tears. I would revisit old, dead relationships for attention and short lived fulfillment. I would look up articles that basically confirmed what I already thought of myself:

YOU ARE THE PROBLEM.

Guys, you know what I have discovered what I was really afraid of? Intimacy.

The intimacy that grows in relationships with people who love and care about you. Intimacy that blooms when you are able to grow from being heard. Trusted. Understood. When you share your burdens with someone else and they help you to carry them.

I still struggle with these things, even now. I like to think of myself as a good friend. I am caring and motivational and committed and not jealous. I am encouraging and compassionate and forgiving. But I always felt like I never deserved any of these things from my friends. It’s trauma, I know. Doesn’t make it easier to work through. Sort of gives it a name to describe it though, which actually helps.

I began to realize that I am this way when I would trauma dump on my girlfriend and she would ask me “why didn’t you ever say anything?”. And I would use comedy or some sharp wit to excuse my lack of transparency. I would laugh and make a self deprecating joke. And she would shake her head and tell me I didn’t need to be this way. I would tell my friends at the coffee shop about struggles I’m enduring as a parent and they would give me solid advice and paths to follow that terrified me. So, instead of heeding their advice, I just stopped sharing. It made it less awkward for me when they would be good friends and follow up with questions about it and I didn’t have to use some vague answer to nullify their curiosity. I didn’t have to admit I was afraid.

Recently, within the last few months, I stated seeing a very nice guy. From the beginning, our interactions felt different. There was purpose to his interest. There was curiosity. There was actual plans to see me, and talk to me, and pursue me. And it’s so crazy for me to admit, OUT LOUD, that I was surprised at his interest. Not because I think I am unworthy, I just didn’t know that this level of interest existed. Not to be too self deprecating, I mean I’m relatively sane, I have a full time job, no baby daddy drama and I can read and write and do arithmetic. A total package, right? And initially, it started the same as most new things with a boy do. There’s always the texting and the planning and the kiss at the end of the night. What felt different with him was the gravity with which he pursued me. There was never a gap of silence to fill me with anxiety. There was no shady stories that are told with a shrug and a shake of his head. There was transparency from literally day 1. Usually I would play it cool, and be like “yeah, whenever you have time, let’s get together.” And his response was “what about today?” And that was everyday. What started to happen was that he showed me that my heart was worth pursuing. He showed me that there’s enough space within him for me to just be. He is caring and wise and patient enough to learn the dirty bits of my life and hold them like things to be cherished, like holding tadpoles in your hand while wading in shallow water. A treasure to seek. That’s how he makes me feel. And while he’s been pursuing me, it’s allowed me to let my guard down to be curious. To ask him questions about his life. It has made me slow down and allowed me to seek the feeling of freedom to not be tight lipped with my questions because he likes to share those parts of himself with me. And I am desperate to learn more about him. The pull he has created in me to seek out information about his life is very fun. In me, he sees something worth pursuing, the same as I see in him. It has revealed to me the awesome power of intimacy. The attractive power of intimacy. All of a sudden, I want to share the parts of myself that I keep hidden. I want to lessen my grip on the hurt parts of my heart. I want him to ask deeper questions about me because those parts of me were suddenly wagging their tails like excited puppies, seeking attention.

Through his pursuit, it has allowed me to see that even me, the train wreck that I see as myself, has value. Value that is worthy to be pursued and heard and sung about. And through the intimacy he has been catering in me, I now want to be softer and more open to those around me. To my kids. To my friends. To him. And also, to myself. To gain experience in the things I feel like I have fallen so short of.

To see my short comings and allow those who I have trusted to be aware of my heart and my mind and allow them to be there for me, as I would gladly be there for them. It’s so crazy to me to think about having an open and trusting and intimate feeling, FOR MYSELF. To squish down, like grapes into wine, the frightening idea of others learning the not so great things about me.

Those hurt and unglamorous parts are still worthy. It’s taken basically my entire life to learn that even those parts of me have value. I am inexperienced in the intimate parts of relationships. Maybe what I really have is a trust issue. I think what I lack is trust in others to be okay with the less than stellar parts of me. It’s some scary shit. And I’m not sure why I’m so terrified of it cause their scary shit is part of the reasons I love them. It helps to fill out the hollow parts of all of us.

I’m reading a book by a great author, Donald Miller, called Scary Close. He makes a point about grace. He says grace only sticks to our imperfections. If you’re perfect, what need of grace do you have? I have no problems giving grace to others, especially about the parts they prob want to hide. Why do I deny those things to those who love me? Why do I deny them the chance to show me grace? Why have I been parading around like I have no needs and no wants and I’m content to just receive the trickle of attention and affection and information provided by those around me, like wisps of smoke from a cigarette, cause I don’t trust them to be willing to show the same grace to me? It makes me feel a tad ashamed that I think I am big enough to handle them and all their blunders and boohoos and withhold them to opportunity to show the same grace to me. I feel ashamed that I may be setting a bad example to my kids to hide their mistakes and sorrows away and try to patch them up yourself. I feel ashamed that a man I met has been chipping away at my stone heart and I have the audacity to try to convince him that he may not like what he finds? I have decided to allow others the see my less than stellar parts. I have decided to include those I love into my troubles and worries and thoughts and failures. I also want them to be part of my victories. I want to give them the opportunities to take care of me just as I would gladly take care of them. Intimacy is something I have learned is not a far away feeling to read about. It’s happening. Right here, right now, in my life. And oh, what a glorious thing it is.