Sexless in Seattle: The Fruit We’re Hungry For
We often assume that sharing space creates intimacy and that intimacy creates connection.
But neither is guaranteed.
In this essay, I explore vulnerability, intimacy, receptivity, reciprocity, and the connection many of us may be seeking beneath our longing, loneliness, and desire.
🌉 The Space Between Us
🌿 Intimacy Isn’t One Thing
💕 What Creates Connection?
🌳 The Connection Tree
🍎 The Fruit We Hunger For
🌉 The Space Between Us
One of the most lonely experiences we can have is feeling disconnected from our significant others.
Living together.
Sleeping together.
Sharing life.
And feeling miles apart.
Many of us assume:
together = connected
married = intimate
sex = intimacy
But none of those equations are necessarily true.
We can be together and feel disconnected.
We can be married without it feeling intimate.
And we can have sex without experiencing intimacy.
We often use “sex” and “intimacy” interchangeably.
And we often confuse proximity—living together, sharing time and space—with intimacy.
Just because we live together doesn't mean we have intimacy.
And just because we have intimacy doesn't mean we have connection.
🌿 Intimacy Isn't One Thing
There are five main types of intimacy.
Physical intimacy: physical touch, such as holding hands, kissing, intercourse, cuddling, hugging.
Intellectual intimacy: communicating ideas, beliefs, and perspectives in a way that fosters curiosity, interest, and acceptance.
Emotional intimacy: sharing thoughts, feelings, emotions, hopes, dreams, fears while feeling heard and understood.
Spiritual intimacy: shared moments of wonder, awe, or acknowledgement with something bigger than yourself (yes, shared plant medicine experiences count)
Experiential intimacy: shared experience and teamwork toward a shared goal.
Many of us crave intimacy, and I suspect we're not simply talking about our genitals coming together. 😉
But as I read through these descriptions, something stands out.
Some forms of intimacy seem designed to foster connection.
Intellectual intimacy invites curiosity, interest, and acceptance.
Emotional intimacy invites sharing while feeling heard and understood.
These are qualities of connection.
Other forms of intimacy seem less like connection itself and more like opportunities for connection.
Physical intimacy creates the possibility of connection, but doesn't guarantee it. We can share our bodies and still feel disconnected.
Spiritual intimacy creates the possibility of connection, but we can sit beside someone in an ayahuasca ceremony and feel no connection to them at all.
Although we may feel profoundly connected to the plant spirit.
Experiential intimacy can also foster connection, but we can share an experience without feeling particularly connected to one another.
Perhaps what we're seeking is connection.
And perhaps intimacy is one of the ways we cultivate it.
💕 What Creates Connection?
Of course, intimacy doesn't emerge from nowhere.
It often begins with vulnerability.
Sharing ourselves honestly.
Our thoughts.
Our feelings.
Our fears.
Our hopes.
Our desires.
Our longings.
But vulnerability alone does not create intimacy.
One person can share openly and still feel alone.
Because intimacy also requires receptivity.
Someone willing to receive what is shared.
Someone willing to stay present.
And it requires reciprocity.
Someone willing to meet us there.
To share themselves in return.
Without receptivity, vulnerability can feel lonely.
Without reciprocity, vulnerability can feel exhausting.
We've probably all experienced this.
Sharing something vulnerable only to be met with advice.
Defensiveness.
Silence.
A change of subject.
A glance toward a phone.
Perhaps intimacy is created in the space between two people willing to share, receive, and respond.
And perhaps connection is what emerges when they do.
🌳 The Connection Tree
Perhaps we can think of vulnerability as the ground.
The foundation.
The place where things are planted.
The willingness to reveal ourselves.
Without soil, nothing grows.
Without vulnerability, intimacy has nowhere to take root.
Then perhaps we can think about intimacy as a tree.
The living structure.
The relationship itself.
The branches through which connection can move.
Different branches:
emotional intimacy
intellectual intimacy
physical intimacy
spiritual intimacy
experiential intimacy
All growing from the same trunk.
And then perhaps we can see connection as the fruit.
It isn't something we can force.
It’s something we cultivate.
Something that emerges.
Through vulnerability and intimacy.
A felt sense of:
being met
being understood
belonging
acceptance
aliveness
The thing many of us are actually seeking.
Connection.
Perhaps this is why connection feels so nourishing.
It doesn't simply help us feel close.
It helps us feel alive.
Like fruit from a healthy tree.
The fruit is what we're hungry for.
It nourishes us.
It feeds our relationships.
It helps keep our relationship ecosystem alive.
The tree is how we get there.
The soil makes the tree possible.
And connection is the fruit.
🍎 The Fruit We Hunger For
Proximity may place us beside one another.
Vulnerability may invite us toward one another.
Intimacy may help us know one another.
But connection is the living thing that emerges between us.
And perhaps that’s what we've been hungry for all along.
🍎
Love,
Heidi
🍎 What fruit are you hungry for?
Perhaps connection looks different for each of us.
If you feel open to sharing, I'd love to hear what helps you feel met, understood, and alive.
And if you'd like future essays, moon phase reflections, and other things I'm currently unraveling, you can join Field Notes here:
