Intimacy

In the Christian community there is a cute phrase that I've heard numerous "pontificaters" use when talking about intimacy. Intimacy means "into me see". Cute right? Its suppose to have just the right amount of deepness for folks that like the "deep things of God". But when I start to think about intimacy, what it means, the lack of it, the pursuit of it and how little of it really exist, I think that a cutesy phrase doesn't do it justice. Some people are terrified to even think someone might really see into them.

I started thinking about this yesterday. After church I went to see "Confessions of a Shopaholic". The reviews for this movie were not good, and 2 hours of stick thin folks wasn't exactly on the top of my agenda, however I wanted to see it. Having had some shopping/credit card issues of my own, I thought it might be fun viewing. A point was made by the main character in the end that I would summarize like this: her shopping addiction prevented her from having a real relationship with a real person. No, I have not ruined the movie for you. Rent it, go see it, or wait until it hits cable, but as chick flicks go its cute. Then quite by accident I went to another movie right after that. This one was a guy movie called "Hangover". I really wanted to do a post right away while "Shopaholic" was still fresh in my mind, but that wasn't the case. I enjoy his company, so, there I am watching this movie about a bachelor party that to quote Bugs Bunny, took that left turn at "Albuquerque" and went seriously but hilariously wrong. By the end some characters are much closer than you would have expected and others not so much. Take your guy to see it he will enjoy it...but be forewarned there's vulgarity, nudity, sexual innuendo, sex, and the after shots are kinda twisted and definitely not for kids. They EARNED their R rating and then some. But I digress.
I can admit to you that I had tears in my eyes close to the end of "Shopaholic". I had already made the connection and felt the familiar fear and pain of being discovered. It is amazing how creative we can be trying to keep people out of areas in our lives we don't want them. We do all sorts of things. We laugh when we want to cry. We tell jokes to keep the silence from overwhelming us. We find things wrong with someone who starts to get too close. We pick a fight rather than peel another layer off the onion that is our lives. We change who we are rather than let the one we love see who we are. We have an affair to scratch an itch we're afraid of sharing, we hide food to be there for us and keep others from knowing we have another lover. We work late into the night so others don't see the lazy person our parents told us we were. We starve ourselves and drop to unhealthy weights rather than talk about the real issues in our relationships. We distance ourselves from friends rather than let them conclude we really are the failure we think we are. Shall I go on? Billy Joel sings a song, "The Stranger" about people discovering the hidden self in their lovers.
I am no expert, I can't even boast of having a healthy loving relationship, but than again lots of "experts" can't boast of that either :). However in my humble opinion, intimacy is not necessarily allowing someone to see you nude and them accepting you. I think intimacy is the journey two people take together trying to let the other see inside. Reaching the goal is a lifetime thing. Along the way, the trust builds and a piece of each falls away. That is why we love a good chick flick like "Shopaholic" or a funny guy movie like "Hangover". We join the journey as we watch characters build relationships, shed pieces until the climatic moment the characters commit fully to the relationship.
Unfortunately, in real life it takes much longer than two hours and there is no great script writer to make sure we say the right then in response to a shed layer. Have you ever been with someone when they disclose something very personal and you haven't got a clue how to respond? You know you've said the wrong thing when they tell you they like that ugly orange blouse, yes the blouse is ugly. Admit it and we will all feel better for thinking how ugly it is. Again, I digress. Need time to go change? Ok, fine keep it on, but at least put your jacket on over it. If your conversation or your relationship takes a turn like we just took about the orange blouse, you either said the wrong thing, made the wrong face OR more likely you've gotten close to getting someone to drop a layer and they're freaking out about it.
So that I will not be the cause of someone remaining in a dead end relationship, thinking he's taking continual detours to avoid intimacy, go read "He's just not that into you."
What's so scary about intimacy? Hmm I can only speak for me. Top of the list is fear of rejection. If you know me will you walk away shaking your head in disgust? Will you stare in shock and just whisper "I had no idea?" Will knowing me be enough for you? Will you sadly say she's just not someone I want to be around? See at the root of this is the fact that I still have days the old recording in my mind says, your dad didn't find anything really impressive about you, he only ask you to come live with him and his lover because he felt sorry for you. He left your mom and felt sorry for leaving you with her, and you look just like her, so whatever was wrong with her or not good enough for him is the same thing that's wrong with you. You better keep men at arms length or find one you can control, otherwise he's gonna see right through you and find nothing worth staying for.
You've probably heard comedians joke about it, co-workers kid about the difference between Black parenting and White parenting. It really is a cultural thing, but I, think that its not an AFRICAN Black cultural thing. I think its a Black American perverted cultural thing. Stick with me for a moment. See my mom would say typical Black things like, "You better stop that crying, or I'll give you something to cry about." She would say, "I don't know why you're so lazy." On a particularly stressful day, "I don't think you think about things before you do it, do you?". Now these things were said in the heat of battle...if you want to call it that. To lots of Blacks raised in America this sounds normal and just a part of parenting, but I've seen Whites look at sideways at Black parents saying similar things out in public to their children. Don't get me wrong and PLEASE don't get it twisted. I worked in family services with abuse, neglect and sex abuse. Unlike the portrayals on TV, some of the most off the wall parents I've ever seen were White affluent people. Knowing them helped me see how slavery occurred. Speaking of slavery, much of what I think you hear coming out of the mouths of Black parents is a throw back to slavery. What person in their right mind trying to raise a healthy, productive and loving child would intentionally destroy their self-esteem? But what are you doing when you tell a child who trust you explicitly that they are dumb, lazy, a flirt, silly, hard headed, no good, so on, and so on? Only someone needing to undermine, belittle, demean and maybe even dehumanize someone would do that. To cause pain to someone and then deny them the right to cry out in pain is inhumane. It is the act of someone needing to distance them self from what they are doing and to make the person they are doing it to less of a person. Sound familiar? Again don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating for no corporal punishment. I happen to be just crazy enough to believe you must have a severe penalty for all other options to be more appealing and enforceable. I do however, believe it should be a very last resort. I also believe your kids are not as cute to others as you seem to think they are...think orange blouse. Your friends have wanted to tell you for years how out of control your kids are. They said to use "out of control" cause you would not be able to handle it, if I said your kids are BAD! Yep, B-A-D. Yes your carpet crabs, your cookie crumb snatchers, your ankle biters are like the terrorist of the neighborhood on their on personal little Jihad, trying to bring anarchy to the playground. There are Chinese and Russian gangs that fear your kids. All because you think they're cute and want to seem them express whatever is on their minds. Here's one of my favorite slave owner/ Black parent mentality statements. "They still got milk on their breath, what do they know about a mind and expressing it?"
What has all of that got to do with intimacy right?
Well for lots of Blacks, not only do you have the usual junk to overcome, you also have this twisted brand of parenting to deal with, and forget about it if you had a dysfunction like alcoholism or physical abuse going on. Then you grew up watching a television that never reflected your reality. You went to a school where very few in leadership looked like you. From time to time you ran into classmates who verbalized what society was silently saying, "you're black and black is not good enough." I know I threw everything but the kitchen sink in there. For some of us, we joke, don't cry, refuse to dwell on things. We think its strength...and it is sort of. Its also the prison we often lock ourselves in. Coming from behind the wall would mean looking at what we are protecting ourselves from. We have learned there's no use in crying over spilled milk. But that's also a form of protection. You hear it in terms of slavery, "why do we have to talk about it, its over. Why do they always want to be the victim, bringing up slavery?" As with any wound, you have to clean it out before it can heal. Lots of times if you had a break and the bone was not healed properly they will break it again, set it so that it heals properly." I try to think of things that hinder like a bone that was not set the first time and needs to be broken and re-set. Its painful and I really would like to keep limping along, but I'm learning that once true healing happens its like dropping a ton weight (forgive the pun). Intimacy has sooo many hindrances its a wonder that it happens at all, but when it does, oh my gosh those moments are beautiful. Trust me, you are who you are, but if who you are has kinks, badly healed bones, and you know your relationships are not what they could be, get it fixed. If you feel as though no one knows who you really are, chances are, you've backed out of taking the journey with at least one someone. I am on the journey now and I am hoping that along the way I'll shed physical weight, some emotional weight and a layer here and there that hides who I am. And, I hope someone will decide they want to travel along to see what's uncovered.

The race that wasn't a race

Last night I was showering in the gym and realized i was humming sha na na na, goodbye. For a fleeting moment I considered the current situation in my life but quickly dismissed it. Have you ever competed against someone that compared to you they were like the Tiger Woods of that particular sport? It was like no competition, but for a hot second you convinced yourself you had a chance. My gut tells me thats what I've been doing. The funny thing is that I don't even think there was someone I was competing against. I think I was challenging an idea or a state of mind. Recently I shared with someone that I dated a guy who was living a dual lifestyle. I thought I was fighting for his love, and the "opponent" was another woman and....possibly a guy. Yeah, dumb I know. Anyway, I kept thinking he's gonna see what a great person I am. He already says I'm beautiful, he talks marriage all the time. I just need to get him to understand I'm the one he needs. Oh life would be perfect if he could just get that through his head. He'll appreciate me and all I do for him soon. Guess what happened. He got his ex pregnant! Didn't see that coming did you? Well apparently the other shoe dropped on her watch, and life sounds like it has been H-E-double hockey sticks for her.
When I sit back and look at that in the rear view mirror. I can see that he wasn't offering himself to either of us nor the guy, (he got hurt in the process too.) He was caught up in his own stuff with nothing to give. I thought I could love, support and help him out of his stuff. I couldn't and it didn't give me a one up on the female or the male. It just made me a bit player in the drama that was his life. I don't know what he would have told someone else, but he told me, I want you. I want a life with you. Even after the pregnancy the phone calls would come every so often and he actually uttered the epic words, "I know I can't ask you to wait until the baby is 18." WTF?! Can you imagine waiting 18 years for someone only to still not get them, but it sounds romantic as hell though doesn't it?
My gut tells me that's what's happening now. Here's my problem: I haven't got a clue what's normal, when my judgement is being clouded by my fear of commitment, how to step outside my fear of being hurt and take the risk to express what's going on with me and when I need to just take my toys and go home.
This is part one of this post. I'm just venting or getting all the cards out on the table...well not all. I need to hold some until I can sort them out and then I'll put them on the table along with my answers.