thinking out loud: on intimacy / part one
So I did one of those personality tests the other day. You know the kind, Which relationship type are you? Which dietary lifestyle suits you best? Are you a psychopath? As if you didn’t know these things already. These tests are fantastic for procrastinating and for confirming things about yourself you already knew. Under the guise of providing a manual for your precious and rare self, these tests are also fantastic for companies to collect data. I love them.
Okay, so this particular one was What is your attachment style? It asked a few questions about upbringing, relationships to primary caregivers and romantic partners and about two minutes later it had you all figured out and you were emailed your results.
My results for attachment style were ‘Dismissive-Avoidant’, the characteristics of which are being dismissive (duh) and avoidant (duh) of emotional intimacy. I thought that was interesting, considering I built a whole business around providing emotional intimacy.
I like to think I am an open book. But I also know it’s a book only I get to write and edit so I’m not sure. I also know my openness is organised in layers. Like an onion. Some friends tell me I am reserved and closed off. Warm and attentive, always a listening ear, extroverted blabla but not giving much access into myself. “Hm, maybe,” I say in reply and immediately feel guilty as if access should always be given at all times and I failed.
It’s true, I don’t let people in easily. But why would I? I love it in here! My inner world is my comfort zone, funnest place on earth. Safest too. Excess is highly restricted and I enjoy it that way. I am the opposite of lonely.
I have noticed something over the years working as a companion: I share deeper emotional intimacy with some of my clients than I share with some of my friends. Coincidence? Maybe. A consequence of sharing sexual intimacy? Possibly. Although I don’t buy into the rhetoric that sex always equals or is followed by emotional bonding. This wouldn’t be the right profession if I did.
There’s a term that has become quite popular in all things personal development, sexuality, people: holding space. I always cringe when I hear that term. I cringe now writing it. But for better or worse, holding space is a pretty accurate term for what we do: we hold space for others to escape, to explore their sexuality, live out phantasies, desires and ideal versions of themselves. We hold space for truth, authenticity, or for the opposite. For experiments and identities. For joy. And intimacy, or versions of it. In the safety of a professional setting, we create and hold this space. For our clients, or is it?
I adore my work. I adore creating these spaces and when people begin to float in them and be free and themselves that makes me happy. It gives me the greatest pleasure. But I doubt this is only an altruistic gesture. Is anything really?
Maybe it is actually quite a selfish pursuit. After all I am in this regulated framework too. I am not on the outside. I too am within this space, floating freely.
The best thing you can do for someone to let their guards down and be themselves is to also let your guards down and be yourself. It is regulated intimacy for both of us. And confinement can be so liberating!
