Help - I have a fear of intimacy.

In his book The Discipline of Intimacy, Charles Cleverly writes the following:

“The twenty-first-century post-modern, post-Christian world is a place of paradox. Despite more ‘connectivity’ than ever before in history, this is a disconnected word. Isolation abounds. We may have perfectly designed scandi coffee shops and public spaces but the private space of people’s hearts may be crumbling with mental health issues, breakdown or lack of relationships, and geographical disconnection. There is a longing for intimacy - ‘ghosting’ on dating apps, and phobias concerning commitment.”

These words are rather poignant to a single traveller like me. On the one hand, I deeply wish to be seen and understood. I naturally want to relate to others, to share my experiences, hopes, and fears. However, to do that requires vulnerability, something that becomes even more challenging every day I live life as a single person. 

I’ll admit it - I don’t particularly like being vulnerable. I find it difficult to express emotion and I absolutely detest crying in front of people or having someone show pity towards me. I have worked so hard to create an outer shell around myself, and I seek to defend this exterior at any cost.

However, I also know that to live this way prevents me from finding true connection and intimacy with other people. It stops me from taking risks on the off-chance that they might actually pay off in long lasting relationships with others. It creates a perception that I am cold, hard plastic - impenetrable and unapproachable - when all I really want is to be embraced. 

This might sound silly, but for years I made it clear to anyone who would listen that I don’t do hugs. I just wasn’t touchy-feely like that, and it was a waste of time for anyone to try and change me. The truth? There were times when all I wanted was to be held, to know the warmth of another person who cared about me. However, I was so fearful of being seen as ‘too much’ that I thought the best thing to do was to shrug off the desire altogether. Better to be pleasantly surprised than utterly disappointed, after all. 

The irony is that so often I believe that a romantic relationship could be the cure. Yes, all I need is someone to love, to tie my life to intrinsically. That person will instantly relate to me, to all the yearnings in my heart, and my desire to be seen and understood will finally be realised. The shell will fall to pieces and I’ll finally be free.

Allow me to put a couple of pins in that theory. 

Firstly, I would need to overcome my phobia of intimacy and the mere presence of a romantic interest isn’t going to fix that. If anything, unless I deal with the internal fears that I carry, I’ll only be riddled with anxiety and frustration at not being able to give more of myself to that person. I’ll hurt myself and I’ll hurt them too. 

Secondly, I would be placing far too much expectation on another human being to be the one person to completely understand and empathise with me in every way. Unfortunately, the big, small, and tiny screens around us provide the narrative that we will meet someone, fall madly in love, and never be misunderstood again. 

News flash - there is no-one who can walk into your life and instantly ‘get’ you without any form of clunkiness, misunderstanding, or conflict in between. When broken people get together with other broken people, the shards rub against each other, causing damage and friction. Disappointment and confusion are inevitable, and without a healthy perspective, you will struggle. 

Having close friends with partners/spouses often means getting a glimpse into their world behind the carefully curated Instagram posts. That world is hard because human intimacy is hard. The presence of a significant other brings with it many joys and challenges. It is a blessing but it is not the ultimate answer to the intimacy vacuum. 

So what do I feel God is saying in the midst of all this? 

I wish you’d come to me. I wish you’d run into my arms of love and mercy, and know that I see you. I see all your imperfections, all your flaws, the things you’re too ashamed to reveal. I see them all and know them well, and yet I love you. I love you with the fiercest love imaginable. I gave my only Son for every single one of your broken fragments, so that you could know the warmth and intimacy of my embrace. I wish you would let me remove that guard you hold up all the time. Confide in me, not as some cosmic wish-granter, but as your closest friend and companion who you long to visit after a tiring journey. Let me refresh your soul. Let me take your hopes, your dreams, and your fears and carry them within my will and purpose for you. Be as vulnerable as you like and know that it will never change my love for you. 

Until we can experience true intimacy with the God who made us, until we break down our walls and let Him in, we will never deal with our intimacy phobia towards others. We will never be able to hold relationships in their proper place, as beautiful gifts from God made for the overflow of love and connection we have in Him. 

My fellow single pilgrims, don’t let the fear of vulnerability and intimacy hold you back any longer. Run to God, feel his embrace and let your outer shell smash into a thousand pieces.

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Happy Val… Wednesday, everyone!