I’m sitting cross-legged on my couch in Austin right now, November rain tapping the window like it’s trying to get my attention, and I’m realizing deep intimacy isn’t the stuff we brag about on dates—it’s the stuff that makes you wanna hide under the blanket afterward.
Like, seriously. Last month I had this moment with my partner where we hadn’t had sex in weeks (life, stress, my brain being a jerk, whatever), and instead of the usual “fix it with bodies” move, we just… talked. Not cute couple-talk either. I cried about how I’m terrified I’m emotionally unavailable even though I’m literally the person who over-shares with baristas. He admitted he still flinches when people say “I love you” because his ex used it like a weapon. We sat there on the kitchen floor—yeah, the floor, because chairs felt too formal—at 1 a.m. eating cold leftover pad thai straight from the container. Zero touching. But I swear that night built more deep intimacy than half the hookups I’ve had combined.
Why Deep Intimacy Feels Scarier Than Getting Naked
Getting naked is easy for me. I’ve got tattoos, I’m loud, I’ll flirt with a lamppost if it’s having a good hair day. But letting someone see the ugly cry? The insecurities I usually drown in tequila? That’s the real striptease.
Here’s the thing nobody says out loud:
- Physical touch is a shortcut. It releases oxytocin, boom, instant “we’re bonded.”
- Deep intimacy without it? That’s manual labor. You’ve gotta dig.
I used to think if we weren’t touching, we were failing. Then I read this study (here, I’ll actually link it because I’m extra today: Greater Good Magazine on non-sexual intimacy) and felt personally attacked in the best way.
The Weird Stuff That Actually Worked for Me
- The 3 a.m. voice-note roulette I started sending unsent voice notes just to hear myself say the scary shit out loud. Then one night I accidentally hit send. He listened at work, cried in the bathroom, sent one back. Now it’s our dumb little ritual. Zero filter. Deep intimacy achieved through shaky breathing and traffic noises in the background.
- Eye-contact chicken (but make it romantic) We set a timer for four minutes (yeah, like that famous 36-questions study) and just… stared. I laughed first because I’m immature. Then I ugly-cried because suddenly I could see how tired he was. No words. Just eyes. Try it, it’s horrifyingly effective. Here’s the study if you’re a nerd like me.
- The “tell me the worst thing” game Over cheap wine we take turns saying the most embarrassing or shameful thing we did that week. Last week I admitted I still sleep with the stuffed elephant I’ve had since I was six when he’s out of town. He admitted he googled “how to know if she likes me” after we’d been dating eight months. We laughed so hard we snorted. That’s the good stuff.
When Deep Intimacy Backfires (Because Of Course It Does)
Sometimes you open the vault and someone goes “whoa, too much” and ghosts. Happened to me last year. I thought we were building something real, spilled my guts about childhood crap, and… poof. Vulnerability hangover is real, y’all. I ate an entire pint of Talenti in my bathtub and texted my best friend “I’m never speaking again.”
But here’s the plot twist: the right people don’t run. They bring you a spoon and climb in the tub with their own pint.
My Current Messy Attempts at This
Right now I’m trying this thing where we leave our phones in the kitchen and just sit on the porch. No agenda. Sometimes we talk, sometimes we don’t. Last night there were like 20 straight minutes of silence while fireflies did their thing and I realized… this is it. This quiet shared air. This is deep intimacy when touch feels too easy or too loaded.
Anyway. I’m still bad at it half the time. I still default to seduction when I’m scared. I still make jokes when things get real. But I’m learning that the goal isn’t to be good at deep intimacy—it’s to keep choosing it even when it’s awkward and snotty and you’re eating cold noodles off someone else’s fork.
So yeah. If you’re out there thinking connection has to be skin on skin to count… try the other stuff. The voice notes. The staring contests. The ugly truths at 2 a.m. It’s messy and terrifying and honestly? Way hotter than anything physical in the long run.
Tell me in the comments the weirdest way you’ve built deep intimacy lately. I read all of them while stress-eating gummy bears, no judgment.
