intimacy

heard this on NPR the other morning and found it interesting. took some effort to track it down, so copied it here to find it more easily in the future...


http://www.wshu.org/news/story.php?ID=5974

Commentary: Intimacy

Betsy Stone
Stamford, CT August 26, 2008

One of the things I have learned after years of doing therapy, and living, is that intimacy cannot happen in relationships without pain. It surprises patients all the time, as they hope for and expect to have perfect intimate relationships. But one of the requirements of intimacy is the openness to pain.

Trust me, I'm not talking about physical pain. There's no place for physical pain in relationships, at least past childbirth. But emotional pain happens in ALL intimate relationships, and I think we should stop pretending it doesn't.

There's pain in the disapproval of a parent, and when your child says I hate you. There's pain in the criticism of your spouse and your best friend's doubts. And there's pain when a relationship ends through death. There's pain when you move for your partner's job and when your sibling says you're dumb.

I don't think there are pain-free relationships, but I don't think that it's pain that distinguishes good relationships. I think that important relationships are the ones where the relationship outweighs the pain. The ones where I nurse you through an illness, or tolerate your idiosyncrasies or visit the in-laws who don't like me...because I value YOU.

Many years ago, I realized that most people in healthy relationships fight, because fighting is simply a way we increase intimacy. The important distinction is between the relationships we return to after fighting and those we leave.

So intimacy demands that I be vulnerable to your criticism, and that you care for my vulnerability. That we honor each other's pain. And that we do as little damage as possible. And that we are willing to tell each other the truth, even when it hurts.

growing pains

faced with challenges, owning up to our limitations, accepting undesired outcomes. in the face of adversity, after a moment of self-pity and fleeting thoughts of resignment, recognizing the choices before me, and acting strongly, capably, maturely. of course, acting is as much a mental game as it is one that manifests itself in the physical world. dwelling not on the negative unknown, but cautiously hopeful for the future. the silver lining, if you will. and eternally grateful for friends, who remind me not of my shortcomings but of my wonderful gifts and powerful potential. loved, i carry on, renewed faith in myself, fragile but present. within and without.

i feel pretty

i never learned how to be pretty.

i'm not fishing for compliments on my physical features, simply commenting on the fact that i was not instructed in ways of beautification as a young girl -- to this day i don't really know how to style my hair, apply make-up, or construct a stylish outfit. i have a vague sense of what looks good and what doesn't, but no solid foundation in beauty, cosmetics, or fashion.

why is this a problem? part of being pretty or beautiful -- and mind you I am speaking of the "only skin-deep" variety -- is the confidence that comes with it. a woman is judged by her appearance, and so feeling good about it engenders a certain confidence. (i'm not saying that men aren't also judged and thus don't also benefit from looking good, but i think either more emphasis is placed on a woman's appearance, or it is more difficult to attain a satisfactory level of beauty as a woman. this is a whole other can of worms i don't intend to delve into...)

my upbringing was imbued with self-doubt and constant questioning of whether i looked OK or not. feeling the critique of my peers like the sun beating down on the back of my neck. hearing the whispers (imaginary or otherwise) like the wind slipping through the trees. fretting over my hair and its styling or lack thereof; stressing over make-up, its selection, purchase, application, and reapplication; agonizing over my clothes, how much designer labels cost (for as much as i would have liked to splurge, the economy of generic brands and sales resonated soundly in my midwestern being), and whether my attempt at fashion would be ridiculed. no, instead of learning to be confident through my outward looks, i learned to critique, doubt, and second-guess my appearance. this spilled over from hair, face, make-up, clothes to body, character, worth, self...

thankfully, today i've found my niche: the athletic academic. not one but two arenas in which "pretty" women are scarce and more emphasis is placed on knowledge and performance. it is the girl with too much mascara that is looked upon with slight bemusement, rather than the girl who thinks her ironman watch is a fashion accessory. the girl who published in Science is regarded with awe, and the one with the designer hand bag is questioned for squandering her paltry stipend. it is there that i am comfortable. it is here that beauty -- and hence the confidence that accompanies it -- is defined more deeply than just the skin and any any products we apply to it.