I’ve been pondering the word “intimacy” a lot lately, because it’s constantly being misused. If I had a nickel for every time I’ve seen a lube marketed as “intimacy gel,” for example, I’d have… enough money to buy a lube that proudly calls itself lube instead!
Intimacy, to my mind, is a mental and emotional thing, not a physical or directly sexual thing – although certainly it pairs beautifully with sex for many of us, the way a fine wine pairs with a fine cheese.
I see intimacy as the ability to be psychologically vulnerable with someone – or “emotionally nude,” as Ricken Hale might say – and to hold their vulnerability in return. I also see it as the ability to be fully yourself with someone, and the knowledge (or at least the hope and belief) that they will adore and accept you, just as you are. It’s a difficult thing for many of us to find, not only because it’s rare to meet someone cool/hot/nice/smart/funny enough that you want to open up to them, but also because intimacy itself requires a certain level of soul-baring that can be uncomfortable at times – although I think it can also be revelatory and soul-nourishing, when it’s good, so it’s usually worth the gamble. (Hey, wasn’t that the whole point of my heart dice tattoo?!)
To that end, there’s something I find to be just as intimate as sex, and sometimes even more intimate. I’m talking about feeling deeply in someone’s presence.
Granted, yes, sex definitely falls into that category – at least, any sex I’d be excited to have. Ditto some sex-adjacent activities like hanging out at a strip club, casually watching porn with a friend, or jerking off with a stranger on a sex cam site like Chaturbate. But also within that category are things like: Watching a great movie together. Attending live music or comedy. Seeing gorgeous sights together while traveling. Conquering a difficult co-op video game or board game together. Working together on a high-stakes work project or creative performance. Hell, even just having a fantastic conversation can make you both feel strong feelings around each other, reaching soaring heights of intimacy that plenty of sex doesn’t even touch.
As a demisexual person, I find that some measure of emotional intimacy is required before I’ll be able to feel sexually attracted to someone. There will usually be a moment where something clicks and I suddenly think, “Ohhhh. I think I want to fuck you! How’d I never notice it before?!“
I’m sure it’s no coincidence that many such moments have occurred while my crush and I were diving to emotional depths together, whether we were laughing our asses off in the front row of a comedy show, mashing controller buttons side-by-side in a hyper-competitive Mario-off, or catching a rom-com at the local multiplex. I loved seeing a window into their most vulnerable self, much earlier in the get-to-know-ya process than I’d normally get to, whether that manifested more like childlike joy or the willingness to break down in tears.
Before that, at my arts high school full of weirdos, my most intense crushes tended to be on people I collaborated with: improv teammates, Shakespeare scene-study buddies, even the guy I co-wrote a fake Simpsons spec script with in Writer’s Craft class. I’ve always liked seeing people cracked open emotionally, spilling out a little; it’s so much more interesting than the staid small talk you’re usually limited to when first getting to know someone.
Sometimes I’ll even choose a date location/activity with this in mind, especially when I’m trying to discern if a budding connection has staying power. Are they comfortable laughing their ass off in front of me, in a borderline-unflattering way, and do I likewise feel I can laugh that hard in front of them without giving them “the ick”? If the movie we’re watching is sad, are they gonna be weird about me crying on their shoulder, or will they hand me a tissue and tug me closer? If a really hot sex scene on TV makes us want to hit pause and jump each other’s bones, will we let ourselves get swept away like lusty young lovers? These examples may seem pretty different – happy, sad, horny – but the point is the intensity of the feeling, not its identification. I think I’d make out with a hottie just as enthusiastically after Fight Club as I would after Secretary, y’know?
I always feel like I know someone better after we’ve felt strong feelings together, whether we’ve watched a tearjerker or a jerk off cam. Knowing someone deeply, and being known deeply, is the very definition of intimacy to me – so I suppose it’s no coincidence that it’s the hottest thing in the world to me, too.
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