If you cannot feel me through my written words
Then you will never grasp me in person
For my words are the architecture of my inner most parts.
Secret things hung out to dry in front of you.Scaffold of Words, The Impetaurian


Francesca Woodman

Francesca Woodman, Untitled, New York, 1979-1980. Gelatin silver print. Francesca Woodman page via Artsy https://www.artsy.net/artist/francesca-woodman

I usually keep space2live a secret in the beginning of a romantic relationship. I do this for two reasons:

1. I don’t want the gentleman to zero in on the more sensual posts and see me primarily in a sexual light. I want him to experience all of me first, not just one elegant facet.

2. I don’t want him to know me so deeply… yet. I want to be known externally — the way I move, the tone of my voice, what I have to say, who I am on the outside — before I’m known internally. Internal is so intimate. The equivalent of kissing me on the mouth in the morning or watching me undress.

Within the words of space2live I am naked. I rarely filter my flaws and fears. I unabashedly share my desires. I speak of sensuality, shame and solitude, topics uncommon to daily conversation.

And yet, I have found the reading of my writing to be a litmus test with telling results.

Go deeper now, later or never

Those who delve in, learn and question, are instantly closer to knowing my uncovered curves and inner warmth. If they express an enthusiasm for my written words, I feel erotically understood and lit up. For them, I have shape and depth with or without speaking. My writing is the background to what I say and do in person. I don’t have to succinctly describe my every thought, dream or idea out loud, which is a blessing because big beautiful concepts are so difficult to verbalize. They must be carved from vast blocks of input and meaning. Writing allows for such crafting. Writing allows for edited thought before presentation, an introvert’s dream.

If a man reads my posts and responds with, Interesting or I liked it and nothing more, then I know our connection will remain on the surface. There will be limited penetration of each other’s internal worlds. Our relationship will consist of lively activities (which I do enjoy) and frequent texts but little depth and gratifying growth. We could explore our core differences and similarities but they won’t want to go that far.They will know me but not have an interest in understanding me. They will memorize my information but not relate to me. I will want more. Always looking for that internal combustion. The fiery spark of going deeper and eliminating boundaries.

I realize my written output will turn some off.

I also realize it is unreasonable to expect instant rapport and candid reactions, such vulnerability takes time and courage. I have learned most individuals have walls of protection surrounding their soft inner beings. Those walls provide an architecture antithetical to intimacy. I have found that for some, space2live offers a safe space —a structure of honest words written by someone sensitive — where internal walls come down.

wall-coming-down

Writing gives depth, courage, a personality

Writing gives me depth, richness, a personality even. Before I started writing, I was a flat version of myself. So much unexpressed. Thinking back, I can only recall one person who knew my real internal self prior to my foray into writing. Writing taps something inside of me and gives me a strength I was previously missing.

Writing is a direct translation of my inner voice. It’s my first language.

the-next-chapter-1-470x264Because of my intense self-analyzing through reading and writing, I am more comfortable and expressive verbally with regards to emotional connection. True, I am most eloquent in my head, but in this realm a certain flow of story and sharing is possible. Rather than trickling out slowly with poor formatting, ideas and words gush from my mouth. Relationship talk is easy. It’s an area in my wheelhouse and I adore itIt’s my internal world brought to light first through writing and now through spoken words. Without the support and structure of my written word practice I’m not sure I could be so outwardly intimate.

Do you have an outlet for intimacy? Is it spoken, written, carved, sculpted, painted, sung, delivered through touch? What gives you depth?

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