I haven’t been keeping up with the rational male but I caught his last post on intimacy and as usual it was very interesting. I really love to hear a man’s take on these things. Often I don’t “get” exactly what he’s saying but it’s fun to think about. He included “weekend discussion questions” that I am going to tackle here in my own rambling, meandering way.
How do you define intimacy?
Do you think men and women share the same concept and definition of intimacy?
Is ‘true’ intimacy only achievable when you have nothing to lose and nothing invested in a woman?
I guess I’ll start by answering the last question first, and my answer is: no, that has not been my experience. In fact “true intimacy” only happened when I became aware of just how much they did invest in me. I am going to share a story here that I have shared before because it really was the first time I ever experienced the “weight” of a man’s emotional investment.
Once upon a time, long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away, I was in an old fashioned king size bed with this really interesting guy who mesmerized me. We had just made love. I was sprawled on my back on the mattress, wrecked and utterly drained. He was kneeling at the foot of the bed, lifting my leg. The beautiful picture was illuminated by the streetlights just below the windows. He was kissing my instep. This was the guy who had terrified me already fifty times, kissing the instep of my foot.
In that moment I saw something that until then had gone unnoticed. I held this big butch guy’s heart in my hand. He held my foot. I held his heart. Yes, he had a cold exterior. Yes, he was amazingly independent. Yes, he was a self-centered, often thoughtless, even mean son of a bitch. And yet here he was, at the foot of the bed, really naked, I mean REALLY naked. I wasn’t even “really” in love with him yet. I was infatuated. That can look and feel and smell and taste like love, but it isn’t. It wasn’t even really “him” I valued, but my experience of him. It was more holistic than just “him”, it was who I was when I was with him, how the world looked through his eyes, how his creativity influenced my activities, how his limitations did. That experience was intoxicating and it did indeed enslave me. But I saw in that moment that he was in love with me and I KNEW that it was a tremendous emotional risk for a man like him. That was the beginning for me in learning how to be responsible to a man. I will always be grateful to Billy for that, for teaching me how to love.
As for the other questions…
How do I define intimacy and do men and women share the same concept of intimacy… hmmmmmm. I am going to tackle this not from the perspective of “a woman” but from the perspective of a kinky person. I don’t think I share the same general experience of either men or women when it comes to this topic.
It’s funny because I just finished reading a discussion about fetishes a few hours ago and thinking about this on the heels of that dialogue makes me realize how very much we fetishize intimacy these days. The internet is like some big lonely hearts club where people are absolutely starved for it. The desperate need for closeness can be just as sterile as jerking off in a high heel while someone watches and smokes a cigarette. The babble babble babble, negotiate, check lists, tell you all my secrets, talk talk talk, transparency, know everything about me, be mine only mine, don’t even THINK about someone else because that interferes with MY need for intimacy and my feeling of possessiveness and closeness and I have to have complete access to you every minute of every day is equally as objectifying as any fetish the old Psychopathia Sexualis may have listed.
Learning to navigate distance, being willing to achieve a different point of view of your partner, allowing room, space, freedom can all be extremely rewarding and allow a relationship to flourish. The manner in which I see people talk about relationships online and even in person gives me great insight into why they don’t last very long. You get so damned sick of one another. Fuck, that neediness for infantile security would make me leave with no forwarding address too.
That’s what attracted me to BDSM in the first place! Rituals, kinky sex, the six-foot distance the whip creates between our bodies, him being unbound by monogamy, lowered expectations, all these things provide a variety in my diet of relating experiences. The intense focus on total disclosure, complete honesty, “intimacy” and making sure our own needs get met every minute of every day is so incredibly self-centered that just like a fetish, there is no room in the experience for the other person to actually BE a person, one who might change or need time or space or some type of stimulation other than being a need meeter and a security provider.
I must be in a storytelling mood because I’m going to share another one…
Once upon a time long long ago in another galaxy far far away, I bounded out of bed one morning just bursting with happiness and passionate love and made a big breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and french toast and brought it along with some coffee and freshly squeezed orange juice to the really interesting guy who was still lounging in bed. He stirred, glancing over sleepily and then sitting up a little, eyebrows raised as I arranged my offerings on the nightstand. I knelt by the bed and gave him a dazzling smile. “What are we going to do today? It’s so beautiful out there! The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and YOU are the most wonderful man in the world. I love you. Is there anything I can do for you? Name it and it’s yours. Fame, money, power, whatever it is you want I’ll get it for you. I’ll gladly walk to New York City just to buy you another pack of cigarettes. Anything you want, just tell me.”
He pondered this for about ten seconds as he reached for his cigarettes and lighter at the foot of the mattress. He lit one, took a drag, exhaled. Finally he scratched his chin and looked at me and said, “Why don’t you do that?” I asked, “Do what?” He lifted his nearly empty pack of cigarettes. “Walk to New York City and get me more of these. That way you’ll get what you want, and I’ll get some space.”
Was that a cruel thing to say? Yes it was. Funny, but cruel. Did it hurt my feelings? Well, it happened ten years ago and I still remember it with crystal clarity so it must have. That doesn’t make him any less right. We did need some distance from each other. Saying something like “I need space” to another person might be insulting or even hurtful, the implication being that one is a kudzu vine that is strangling the one requesting distance, but you know, sometimes it has nothing to do with the other person at all. I know this because I am one of these people who needs an incredible amount of time to myself. My need for space is reflected in my voracious reading, long walks, writing, cooking, staring at the internet and hitting refresh a lot, and occassionaly days on end of utter silence other than courtesies, you know, “Good morning”, “I love you”, “Have a nice day” and “Goodnight.”
When it does have something to do with the other person as it did on that morning ten years ago? It doesn’t have to mean that the person requesting space is not “into” you and wants to break it off. In fact the need for space can be the direct result of being too “into” each other! Recognizing any of the “toos” — too into you, too dependent, too lazy, too quiet, too demanding — is in my once again not even remotely humble opinion how two people responsibly manage a relationship. If any of the “toos” is “too much” then tone it down.
Distance is not the nemesis of relating nor even of intimacy, it is in fact an integral part of the dance. Watch any choreography, if the dancers were all tangled up for the whole number you would ask for your money back.
One of the aspects of being in love that I have noticed is that you have to actually be able to “see” each other, from a distance, so you can gasp with awe from across the room and fall in love all over again, feel that longing for something you do not “have”. When I have gone through phases of being “all over each other” in my relationships with men I have found that the quality of both our feelings and our interaction begins to wane. It is through creating a fluid dynamic in which distance is controlled, sometimes up close and personal, sometimes eons apart, that we get all perspectives of each other. When he is right on top of me I can experience “wow, what a nice patch of chest hair” but it isn’t until he is further away that I can see the complete picture. Allowing movement between extreme closeness and extreme distance creates an environment in which both parties can be seen and known in many contexts rather than me always on his lap cringing in fear and him indulging it so he can have at least ONE friend to show off for.
“Intimacy” — the no secrets kind, the total vulnerability one to the other, no pretences, no walls between you, being able to be 100% fully yourself without fear or insecurity — well, in my experience it just causes a wall of resentment. Of course I have secrets, secrets even from myself, and so does a man I am in a relationship with. Human beings are dangerous creatures, total vulnerability is foolish. To be fully me without fear or insecurity is an insult to him. I’m not free to foist myself upon others in entirety. I’ve often wondered why with the most important person in our world we feel free to let it all hang out, to be uncareful and unreserved and save our party manners and good behaviour for acquaintances. I’d rather have boundaries and walls built on purpose, complete with all kinds of doors and windows so we can gain access to one another when we need or want to.
That’s where the dominance and submission come in with all their formulas and rituals and even the Sm with its objectification, even dehumanization of us into “hunter and prey”. They are tools we use to create and manage distance. He’s “up there” and I’m “down here”. Formal speech and titles like “Master” and “slave” are also about creating distance. What is so funny to me is how this got switched in the minds of so many Americans who are into BDSM. Frequently I see that people won’t use “Sir” or other honorifics until they know that they respect the person or they reserve it for “the One”. It’s a sign of how “intimate” and “close” they are. Pardon me but isn’t that ass backwards? By calling someone “Sir” one is not communicating familiarity and intimacy but formality and distance.
This is why many people don’t like protocol, even on a societal level. To be right in someone’s face all the time gives the illusion of control… “I control how much of me you see”. When a distancer is in place, rut roh, I might see more of you eh? And rut roh again, I might see things I don’t like. In retrospect I can see that’s why formal speech and formal settings squicked me at first. It wasn’t intimacy that I feared with people, but rather distance. If I wasn’t free to just ramble along blathering away casually to people they might not see how wonderful I am and might not understand me or love me or take care of me or protect me or be nice to me etc. If there was distance, oh my goodness, they might be free to think of me however they pleased without the illusion that my interference was controlling their opinions!
Now that I am more formal in my presentation and (usually) only speak when spoken to in a public setting I see just how controlling I was, and that by implied intimacy I was actually kind of blackmailing people into being nice to me. It is difficult to be mean to someone who is just bobbing over to you in a friendly fashion.
Now that I experience distance from people socially it is familiarity with me that is earned. I do not (usually) respond to people in a casual fashion until they are in my “inner circle”. They have to watch me over a period of time to “get” who I am, and I them.
Edited to add: After thinking about this some more I wonder if perhaps another way to maintain the necessary distance, boundaries and safety while also being “absorbed” is to treat the relationship itself as a third party, the most powerful in the triad. The trick is that I don’t get absorbed into HIM, I am absorbed and owned by the RELATIONSHIP. Most people seem to just face each other, just the two of them head on. Picture that in your mind’s eye, two people standing face to face. Now open them up to allow a third person to stand there. Because they are at a more open angle to each other there is room for not only “relationship” to stand in that available spot, but when they need them, new ideas, new people, their children, or the freedom to look at the horizon together and just plan or dream. Do they have to turn face to face to dance, make love, fight etc? Of course, but remembering to open back up and become humble again to the influences OUTSIDE themselves as individuals may be thing that saves them again and again.
I think in my relationships that’s what happened. The relationship acted as a “pen” of sorts for me. Within the boundaries of the relationship I could get some distance, feel some safety and yes, turn around, look at him, gasp and swoon all over again, which I did repeatedly. When I needed safety, which I often did with these guys, there were places within the “pen” that I could hide to lick my wounds, rest, dream, be angry but I did not leave the confines of the relationship to do that, just as I didn’t leave the confines of the relationship to get the distance required to be able to get a full visual of him so I could fall in love with him all over again.
Protocols and rituals and rhythms and formalities and even Sm provide both the distancers and the safe spots, while simultaneously providing the external boundaries that I require in order to be an individuated human being who is safe in the outside world. Did I lower my personal boundaries substantially so that emotionally I was amoeba like and could by osmosis join him in his psyche or allow him into mine? Yes, but when I needed or wanted to be separated or he needed me to be, I had these external boundaries to keep me together.
