My friends tell me I have an intimacy problem. But they don’t really know me.
– Garry Shandling

Stefana Broadbent’s TED talk is called “How the Internet Enables Intimacy.” She shares stories of families setting up a webcam at dinner to share the experience via Skype with family members in another country, and of loved ones who sneak away for a few quiet moments during their work shift so that they can say “good morning” or “good night” via their Blackberry or iPhone. These are lovely sentiments, but I disagree with her use of the word “intimacy.”

It may be my personal bias, since I have never been one to enjoy long chats on the phone, but I have always felt that a phone call was just a tool to stay connected until the next time when I could be with someone. I don’t get much out of weekly calls to my family, but the hours we spend with each other — those are the memories that I treasure and those are the times I feel most seen, heard and understood. Using some form of technology always leaves me feeling like I am being misunderstood or that I am misunderstanding the other person. It’s like finding my way in the fog. I find it rather frustrating.

In the discourse over whether technology is hurting or helping relationships, I think we’re confusing “intimacy” with “connection.” I am an avid user of Twitter, Facebook and LinkedIn, and I enjoy being reconnected with far-away family and old classmates. Now thousands of people may know what blog I am reading or what movie I am watching, that is “connection” — it is not intimacy.

I understand that in some instances, finding your way in the fog is better than nothing. I can’t be with my grandma more than once a year, so a phone call or a handwritten letter is the best we can do to stay connected and to feel some presence in each other’s lives. Yet I wonder how much more meaningful our relationship would be if we were able to spend more time talking over tea, baking together, or doing a puzzle on a rainy afternoon.

And if my husband were overseas in the military, technology could help us stay connected during the long months spent apart. But what I would really want would be to hold his hand, to look into his eyes, to feel his breath on my neck, to smell his chest — to have intimacy.

Perhaps this is more about how I perceive and express love. Words, whether spoken or written, have never meant as much to me as someone’s presence – their ability to be with me physically and emotionally. Or perhaps I am being too persnickety about the semantics. But I worry that people are settling for connection, when what they long for is intimacy. Would you rather have 1000 friends on Facebook who read your status updates, or one true friend who reads your “status” on your face — who can listen to what is said and unsaid, who knows when you’re scared, embarrassed or hurt? Can you have both? Sure. But I wonder how many of us choose to cultivate hundreds of lesser connections because we’re too scared to develop fewer, deeper connections.

If we find that IMs and tweets are enough to fulfill our desire for intimacy — to know and be known on a deep and meaningful level — then I think we are in a heap of trouble when it comes to important relationships. When couples would rather shoot each other IMs from across the house than spend time being intimate with each other, I think there’s a problem. When someone finds more validation in having a thousand followers on Twitter rather then being mindfully present with a friend or lover, then I think we’re settling for less than we know we deserve.

Connection vs. Intimacy –What do you think?

image above by citylight

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UPDATE: 12/03/09

I’ve received a good deal of feedback about this blog post via the comments here, as well as discussions on people’s Facebook walls and on Twitter. Much of it has been critical, which I admit was difficult at first. Still, that’s kind of the point of this whole idea of intimacy — it’s about being more transparent and more of who we really are. So even though a lot of the work I do with people is to help them be comfortable with intimacy, I realize anew how much I have yet to learn. I am also reminded of how much of my own story is showing up in my feelings about the word “intimacy.”

I recently posted a quote from David Richo which began:

Most of us have unrelenting longings for whatever was missing from our childhood. Every intimate bond will resurrect these archaic yearnings, along with the terrors and frustrations that accompany chronically unmet needs.

This is true for me. Just ask my husband. I seldom felt “seen” as a child because of issues going on in my family. My mother has told me straight out that she sees me how she wants to (as a ‘perfect’ child – because it makes her feel good about herself) instead of seeing me for who I really am. She can’t see my mistakes and my hurt because it will require her to acknowledge her part in it.

So I have a deep longing to be seen. But I don’t think I am alone. I know I’m not. I also don’t believe I am the only person who engages in techonology/social media/what-have-you with some degree of reticence. I enjoy the new relationships that have emerged and the ones that have continued in new ways, but I still feel like it is only scratching the surface of the kind of relationships I want.

In my post, when I asked about trading in 1000 Facebook friends for one true friend, some people may have bristled at that and interpreted that to mean I was saying that those 1000 connections aren’t worth much. Honestly, I think that was my own ‘unrelenting longing’ aching aloud. *I* would trade it in. I would. That doesn’t mean everyone else would. And I realize that it doesn’t need to come down to that. We can and should have both. We need many kinds of relationships, with many kinds of connections and bonds.

In his book, The Seven Levels of Intimacy, Matthew Kelly lays it out like this:

• Level 1: Cliches
• Level 2: Facts
• Level 3: Opinions
• Level 4: Hopes and Dreams
• Level 5: Feelings
• Level 6: Faults, Fears, and Failures
• Level 7: Legitimate Needs

That got me thinking. People do share all of this on Twitter, Facebook and the like. They debate politics, confess about screaming at their kids, and some can say “hey, I am feeling lonely. will someone hang out with me tonight?”

So, I’ll agree that people can use technology to be vulnerable and transparent. But I still come back to the fact that for me, I still need to be with someone – to share the space with them, to breathe the same air, to see their body language as they show interest or disinterest – to feel like we have a strong enough connection to call it intimacy.

I also think of a trip I took this summer out to Puget Sound to spend a weekend with nine “Soulsisters.” Most of us had never met before, but we were brought together by Rachelle Mee-Chapman (aka Magpie Girl) because we all read her blog. So technology drew us together and made some sweet connections. Yet, the consensus as we left was that we were sad that we would only be able to communicate online from then on. What we were all longing for was a deeper connection, and we were disappointed to realize that we weren’t going to have it. I want a Soulsister within 20 minutes of me so I can call and say “I had a really shitty day, can we go grab a glass of wine and commiserate?”

So I guess I am back to where I started in this original post. I still think that technology only gets us so far. And I don’t understand the concept of “ambient intimacy.” It just feels like the wrong use of the word. Yet, in Kelly’s book, he describes intimacy as self-revelation and about sharing the journey of becoming our best selves. In that respect, maybe “ambient intimacy” works.

Ugh, is it just me? Am I the only one who sometimes feels more DIS-connected from people the more online connections I try to maintain? What am I missing? Is it me that is mis-using the word “intimacy”?

Oh, and several people have taken issue with my use of the “vs” between connection and intimacy. Honestly, I couldn’t think of a better title and I thought at least that one would get some attention. And I also wasn’t saying connection is bad and intimacy is good, or that all relationships should ultimately lead to deep and profound intimacy. I was just saying that some of them should.

I truly, truly am energized by this discussion and I know it is important because this is part of what I do — I help people create and sustain intimacy with themselves and others. So if you have any feedback to offer, please do.