Intimacy.  Intimacy is my word for the day.   Not THAT kind of intimacy.  Get your mind out of the gutter……

To me, Intimacy is a pretty word.  Some words are lovely simply because of the way they look and sound.  This is one of them for me.  Plus, it’s also kind of fun to say.  As I speak it, it seems that the letters slowly roll around before spilling out.  Sometimes when I think of a word I imagine what it would look like if someone were to draw it as a picture.  I guess this makes me a visual learner.  I see intimacy as a forehead kiss,   especially on one of my babies’ foreheads.  #jacobnelldylan

It’s no surprise that the typical meaning we ascribe to intimacy is within the context of partner relationships.  This is what most of us typically think of when we talk about intimacy.  But lately, I’ve been thinking about a much more important meaning of this simple and overused word.

Last summer someone said something to me that made me stop and think about my own ability to be intimate with people.  Again, no gutter.  I don’t mean that obvious kind of intimacy but instead, the kind that means that you allow yourself to open up to people who are important to you.  People you love.  And that includes family, friends and, of course, partners.  I am talking about the ease with which we let people in to see our faults, our fears, our weaknesses.  Because as much as we might want to believe that we don’t have any, we most certainly do.  I most certainly do.  And these pieces of us are probably the most important, the most powerful ones to share.  The happiness, joy, laughability are all the easy part.  It is the scary stuff, the things that keep you up at night and scare you in the dark, that are hard, if not impossible, to share.  Why is that?

I think that is easy to answer.  I think because that stuff is what makes people run the other way.  These are the pieces of you that will cause someone to say “Umm.  Yea.  I think that might be a bit too much for me to take.  I’m just looking for someone fun to hang out with.  I can’t be your therapist and don’t want to be your conscience.  That’s far too complicated for me.”  But it is these complex pieces of us that are the hard part of any relationship.  And it is when someone sees them and yet chooses to stick around . . . . well, that is when you know that the person really does see who you are and still wants to be there.

For example, a friend recently saw me shrink away from someone who was trying hard to be kind and supportive.  After that person left she said something like ” You need to get your shit together and recognize that it’s ok to let people support you – it’s ok to let them in.”  At first, I thought “WTF I don’t have a problem with letting people in.”  And then I thought, “Holy shit.  She’s right.  I just pushed that kindness away.”  It seemed too dangerous to let that person see me in a vulnerable state.  A state that might indicate that I am not oh so self-sufficient.  #debklein

I have always thought of myself as a “wear your heart on your sleeve” kind of person.  And by the way that is not always a pretty site.  In fact, it can be pretty ugly at times.  Ask anyone who has seen my #restingbitchface or my #wide-eyedpanicface.  I do still believe that people can get a glimpse of what is going on in my heart and mind pretty easily.  Maybe it’s all in the eyes whether it’s a classic Butz eye-roll or a staring off into space.  What’s funny about this is that, although my heart is usually visible to people, my ability to let people in, to expose who I am on the inside – the good, the bad, and the ugly – remains challenging.  It seems far too scary and too close to asking for help or, God forbid, let someone see that you need help.  This is the intimacy I am talking about.

I have many friends – or I should say I know many people.  Some are true friends and some are on the fringes.  One thing I know is that they all have seen me at my worst, most weak and scared days.  I also know that the people who cannot seem to deal with anything but the fun, pleasant, self-deprecating Karen are also the ones who aren’t really there to stay.  They might try to be true and honest but the visibility of how this truth scares them can be heart-wrenching and saddening to my idea of friendship.  It takes a while to recognize this and the recognition can be painful.  But once you see it, it is a freedom you won’t soon forget.

As I get older I see how so very important it is to have trusted people in which to confide your worst fears.  It’s the joy that is easy to share and be a part of.  But the pain and the self-doubt, that is risky for many people.   You would think that allowing others to see this side of you would bring them closer.  But what I have found, especially recently, is that when intimacy exposes fear or doubt, well, that can cause people to run as far away as fast as possible.  Sharing this part of you can be threatening and can drive away even the most trusted friend.  So, typically I avoid this exposure.  In fact, it’s fair to say the Karen sitting my kitchen table who is always aiming for a laugh is the guard to this exposure.

I’ve been trying to figure out why this is and my conclusion so far is that the fear and pain that people see in me alerts them to the same emotion that might exist within them.  And that is scary and something that many people don’t want to face.

The upshot of this is that at this age and breadth of my life experience, I am ready to let people see the hard stuff and am prepared to let the cards fall where they may.  That is where connections are made and that is where we grow and feel pure and full of gratitude.  It can be scary but, I think, so worth it.

There is a Justin Timberlake song that seems to reference what I am trying to say. Listen to it and maybe you’ll agree.