The Depths of True Intimacy: A Soul’s Longing
In a world so fixated on fleeting moments and physical desires, I often feel like my understanding of intimacy is vastly different from what society portrays. When people talk about sex or relationships, they seem to reduce something so profound to mere physicality—an act, a transaction, a temporary connection. But for me, intimacy has always been about something much deeper, something that transcends the physical and touches the very core of who we are.
What I truly desire is not someone who merely shares my bed but someone who shares my soul. I long for a connection that feels eternal, unbreakable—a bond so sacred and profound that it defines what it means to truly know and be known by another. I yearn for someone who is mine completely and irrevocably, just as I would be theirs, someone who belongs to me in every sense, not just for a moment or a phase, but for a lifetime.
To me, intimacy is not about taking off clothes; it’s about taking off masks. It’s about baring your soul to someone—revealing the truest, rawest, and most vulnerable version of yourself—and knowing that they won’t flinch or turn away. Removing clothes is easy, almost mechanical, but removing the layers of fear, insecurity, and pretense that we hide behind? That is rare. That is sacred.
What I seek is not just a physical connection but a soulful one. I want someone who sees me for who I am, not just the person I present to the world but the person I am when no one else is looking. I want someone who understands me—not just my words but the emotions behind them, the unspoken fears and dreams that I struggle to articulate. I want someone who listens, truly listens, and doesn’t dismiss my thoughts as trivial or childish.
Too often, I feel like people don’t really hear me. They smile, they nod, but their eyes betray their disinterest. Even when I try to share my deepest thoughts, my most profound feelings, they’re brushed aside, laughed off, or dismissed as unimportant. It’s exhausting to constantly feel like I have to explain myself to people who don’t really care to understand.
Even my parents, as much as I love them, don’t always understand me. They come from a different generation, a different world, where vulnerability and emotional depth weren’t as openly discussed or valued. They have their own theories about life and relationships, theories that often feel distant and outdated to me. When I try to express my thoughts and feelings to them, they dismiss them as youthful idealism or naivety. “You’ll understand when you’re older,” they say. But I don’t think they realize that what I’m talking about isn’t some fleeting phase or silly fantasy. It’s a deep, unshakable longing for something real, something meaningful.
Their laughter stings. Their inability to take me seriously feels like a rejection of who I am. But I don’t blame them. They’re a product of their time, their experiences, their upbringing. They love me in their own way, and I know that. But still, it leaves me yearning for someone who will truly understand me.
I dream of a soulmate—someone who doesn’t just tolerate my quirks and complexities but celebrates them. Someone who looks at me and thinks, “I’ve never met anyone like you, and I never want to lose you.” I want someone who sees the cracks in my soul and doesn’t try to fix them but instead loves me because of them. Someone who holds me in my most broken moments and still sees beauty. And I want to be that for them too.
I want to be the person they can turn to when the world feels overwhelming, their safe haven, their anchor, their home. I want to hold their heart in my hands and protect it with everything I have. I want to see their scars, their wounds, their pain, and love them all the more for it.
But where is this person? Are they out there somewhere, waiting for me as much as I’m waiting for them? Or are they just a figment of my imagination, a dream I’ve created to fill the emptiness in my heart? Sometimes, it feels like they’re so far away, like they don’t even exist. And that thought terrifies me.
Still, I hold on to hope. I have to believe that they’re out there, that one day, our paths will cross, and everything will finally make sense. Until then, I’ll keep dreaming, keep searching, and keep holding on to the belief that true love is worth waiting for.
Intimacy, to me, is about vulnerability. It’s about trusting someone enough to show them the parts of yourself that you usually keep hidden—the fears, the insecurities, the dreams that you’re too afraid to share with anyone else. It’s about saying, “This is who I am, in all my flawed, messy, imperfect glory,” and having them look at you with nothing but love and acceptance.
It’s about feeling safe enough to let down your walls and take off your masks. It’s about knowing that even in your weakest, most broken moments, they’ll be there, holding you, loving you, healing you. And it’s about being that for them too.
I believe that true intimacy is a two-way street. It’s not just about being seen and understood; it’s about seeing and understanding the other person as well. It’s about holding space for their pain, their joy, their fears, and their dreams. It’s about being willing to do the hard work of loving someone completely, even when it’s difficult, even when it hurts.
I want a partner who doesn’t just see the surface of who I am but who looks deeper, who sees my soul. I want someone who understands that love isn’t just a feeling; it’s a choice. It’s a commitment to stay, even when things get tough. It’s a promise to keep showing up, day after day, no matter what.
And yet, in a world that seems obsessed with shallow, surface-level connections, I sometimes wonder if the kind of love I’m looking for even exists. Everywhere I look, people seem content with fleeting pleasures and temporary bonds. They settle for relationships that lack depth, that lack meaning. But that’s not enough for me. I want something lasting, something real.
Love, to me, is sacred. It’s not something you can throw away or walk away from when things get difficult. True love is about staying, even when it’s hard. It’s about choosing each other every single day, even when life makes it difficult.
I dream of finding someone who understands this, who values connection over convenience, depth over surface, and meaning over mediocrity. Someone who will walk through life with me, hand in hand, through every high and every low. Someone who will make me feel like I’ve finally found my place in the world.
Until then, I’ll keep dreaming. I’ll keep longing for that connection, that depth, that love. Because even though it feels so far away, even though it sometimes feels impossible, I know it’s worth waiting for.
Loving Myself While I Wait: A Journey of Self-Acceptance and Inner Strength
Of course, I will keep waiting for the person I’ve always dreamed of—the one who will see me, understand me, and love me for who I am. But waiting doesn’t mean standing still. It doesn’t mean putting my life on hold or leaving my happiness in the hands of someone else. Because if there’s one thing I’ve come to realize, it’s that love isn’t just something you receive from another person. Love is something you cultivate within yourself.
Yes, I long for a connection with another soul, someone who will share life’s joys and sorrows with me. But if they don’t come, or if they don’t exist, that doesn’t mean I’m incomplete. It doesn’t mean I’m unworthy or incapable of experiencing love. It simply means that the love I have to give—so deep, so boundless—can be directed inward. I am more than capable of loving myself, of being my own source of comfort and strength.
And honestly, I’m good at it. I’ve always been someone who loves deeply, who gives freely. So imagine how much love I can pour into myself. That’s not to say it’s always easy. There are days when it feels impossibly hard, when the weight of my own emotions threatens to crush me. On those days, I feel like I don’t even understand myself, like the person I see in the mirror is a stranger. But it’s in those moments of confusion and pain that I remind myself of something important: I am here for me.
I have to be my own pillar, my own anchor. Because no one else can truly understand my heart the way I do. And while I wait for that person who might one day come into my life, I know that I have to hold myself steady. God is here for me, always watching over me, always guiding me. But beyond that, I am here for me. I am my own refuge, my own safe haven.
Of course, I dream of love. It seems so beautiful, so magical. But the self-love I nurture within myself? That is a beauty all its own. It’s the foundation of everything I am and everything I hope to be. If I can’t love myself, how can I expect anyone else to? That’s what I believe. Self-love is the starting point, the core from which all other love grows.
Life is hard for everyone. We all face challenges, heartbreaks, and moments of doubt. And yes, in those moments, it’s natural to wish for someone to lean on, someone to share the burden with. But even when those people aren’t there, I know I have myself. I love myself so much—so much that I place my own well-being above the expectations and judgments of others.
Self-love is a declaration. It’s saying, “I am worthy, just as I am.” And for me, that includes embracing every part of who I am, even the parts that others might not understand or accept. I am part of the LGBTQ+ community, and that’s something I’m proud of. I don’t see people as their gender or their sexuality. I don’t judge them based on their religion or where they come from. What matters to me is who they are—their essence, their spirit, their depth.
That’s what I look for in people: the truth of who they are beneath the surface. I look into their eyes and try to see their soul—their pain, their joy, their stories. I want to understand them, to truly know them. That’s something I love about myself: my ability to empathize, to connect, to see beyond the superficial and into the heart of another person.
It saddens me that so many people still struggle to accept others for who they are. The LGBTQ+ community, in particular, faces so much misunderstanding and prejudice. But to me, there’s nothing wrong with being who you are, whether you’re gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, or anything else. I’m who I am, and I refuse to let anyone make me feel ashamed of that and I embrace it fully.
Being open-minded is another thing I love about myself. I don’t see the world in black and white. I see its complexities, its nuances, its infinite shades of color. I don’t judge people for their differences; I celebrate them. Because our differences are what make us beautiful, what make us human.
And so, while I wait for that person who might one day come into my life, I’ll keep loving myself. I’ll keep respecting myself and everyone around me, no matter who they are or where they come from. Because love isn’t just about finding someone else. It’s about finding yourself. It’s about accepting yourself and others for who they are.
I am proud of the person I’ve become. I am proud of my ability to love, to understand, to empathize. And I know that whether or not someone else comes into my life, I’ll be okay. Because I have me. I have God. And I have the endless, boundless love that lives within me.
Being True to Myself Amidst a World of Judgment
And of course, anyone who truly knows me understands how free-spirited I am. I live unapologetically, refusing to be confined by societal expectations or the ever-watchful eyes of those who thrive on judgment. I’ve learned something invaluable about people: no matter what you do, no matter how righteous, kind, or intentional your actions are, they will judge you. It’s almost as if judgment is ingrained in their nature. Do something bad, and they’ll condemn you. Do something good, and they’ll still find reasons to criticize.
So, I’ve made a choice—a liberating, transformative choice. I choose to be myself. Irrespective of judgment, irrespective of opinions, I embrace who I am with open arms. I’ve realized that living authentically is the most powerful act of rebellion against a world that constantly tries to box us in. Why should I waste my life trying to appease people who will never be satisfied? Why should I hide parts of myself to make others comfortable? The truth is, I won’t.
Yes, I am a deeply sensual person. Sensual in the way I feel, in the way I experience the world, in the way I seek connections that go beyond the surface. My sensuality is not confined to physicality; it’s a part of how I view life itself. It’s in the way I touch, the way I listen, the way I immerse myself fully in the moment. But my sensuality doesn’t mean recklessness. It’s not about indulging every fleeting desire or being consumed by passion without thought. For me, sensuality is intertwined with soulfulness.
I crave something deeper than surface-level connections. I crave the soul. I crave understanding, resonance, and vulnerability. In a world that often seems obsessed with appearances, fleeting pleasures, and superficial bonds, I yearn for the kind of connection that touches the depths of my being. I want to look into someone’s eyes and feel as though I’m peering into their soul. I want to hear their stories, feel their pain, and celebrate their joy. I want to know them—not the version they present to the world, but the raw, unfiltered truth of who they are.
Being true to myself is not always easy, though. It takes courage to walk your own path, especially when that path doesn’t align with society’s expectations. People have called me bold, rebellious, even defiant. But those labels don’t bother me. If being myself means challenging norms and breaking boundaries, then so be it. I would rather be true to who I am than live a life of quiet conformity.
I’ve noticed that the more I embrace my authenticity, the freer I feel. There’s something incredibly empowering about letting go of the need for approval. It’s like shedding a heavy weight that you didn’t even realize you were carrying. When you stop caring about what others think, you open yourself up to a world of possibilities. You become the author of your own story, the creator of your own destiny.
That doesn’t mean I’m immune to doubt or insecurity. There are moments when the judgment of others gets to me, when their words sting more than I’d like to admit. But in those moments, I remind myself of my truth. I remind myself that their judgment says more about them than it does about me. People often judge what they don’t understand, what challenges their worldview, or what reminds them of their own insecurities.
My sensuality, my soulfulness, my open-mindedness—these are not flaws to be hidden but strengths to be celebrated. They are a testament to my willingness to live fully, to love deeply, and to experience life in all its complexity. I won’t apologize for being who I am, for wanting what I want, or for feeling what I feel.
The world needs more people who are unafraid to be themselves. It needs more people who are willing to embrace their sensuality, their vulnerability, their humanity. I want to be one of those people. I want to live a life that is true to my values, my desires, and my soul.
At the end of the day, the only person I need to answer to is myself. As long as I can look in the mirror and feel proud of the person staring back at me, I know I’m on the right path. Let the world judge me. Let them talk. Their opinions don’t define me. I define me.
And yes, I lead my own life. I make my own choices. I follow my own heart. Because if I don’t, who will? This is my journey, my story, and I refuse to let anyone else dictate how it unfolds. My freedom, my authenticity, and my soul are mine to protect and nurture.
So, while I may crave the soul of another, while I may dream of a connection that feels like coming home, I will never compromise who I am to find it. The right person will see me for who I am—unapologetic, free, and deeply, irrevocably me. Until then, I will keep living, loving, and embracing the beautiful, messy, imperfect truth of who I am.
Lessons on Love, Self-Worth, and True Connections
Yes, I was in a relationship previously with a boy. And yes, I still love him, maybe somewhere deep in my heart. Why? Because people can’t unlove someone completely. That love remains in the heart, even if it changes form. That’s the reality. If you think you can totally forget about someone you once loved, then I’d say it’s not very realistic. Love, once given, leaves an imprint. It doesn’t just vanish.
You see, emotions and memories have a way of resurfacing. It could be a moment, a word, or even a scent that takes you back. Something I read once—maybe an article—said that women, in particular, have this tendency to relive emotions when memories come flooding in. It’s like reliving the past in vivid detail. The pain, the love, the laughter, the sadness—it all comes rushing back, filling you up with all those feelings again. That’s how love works; it’s not something you can turn off or delete.
Now, I do want to be in a relationship again, to find that connection with someone. But here’s where it gets tricky—there’s always a “but.” What if the person I want doesn’t feel the same way? Maybe they see me as just a friend, a neighbor, or even less—a fleeting presence in their life. Maybe they don’t value me the way I value them.
This is where the complications begin. I started questioning myself: Is it right to keep loving someone who doesn’t feel the same way? Is it wrong to hope for a deeper connection when the signs say otherwise? Am I being used in this dynamic? These questions haunted me because I realized that no matter how much love I poured into this person, their bucket seemed to have a hole in it—a metaphorical leak that prevented it from ever being full.
I kept pouring and pouring from my own bucket, giving them my time, my care, my energy—my love. And yet, it was never enough. Their well was always dry. It made me wonder: is this how love is supposed to feel? Unbalanced? Unreciprocated? Why was I the one always giving 80%, or even 100%, while they barely gave back a fraction? I’m not saying love has to be a perfect 50-50 split all the time, but why was I the one carrying the emotional load?
I even tried to express these feelings to them, hoping for some clarity. But their response? “I don’t love you, but I do like you. I like talking to you.” That stung. Not because they didn’t feel the same way, but because their words felt so detached, so empty. It was like they were okay with receiving my love without ever intending to return it.
It wasn’t just about the words, though. Their actions spoke volumes too. They didn’t crave my touch, but they were fine with a kiss. They didn’t love me, but they were okay with taking what I offered. It felt transactional, one-sided, and, most painfully, fake.
I could sense it—their fakeness. I could feel that their affection was superficial, that they weren’t truly invested in me. They were pretending, and I hated it. I hate when people fake their feelings, when they take without giving back, when they pretend to care but don’t actually mean it.
Yes, I do love them. I won’t deny that. But will they ever understand the depth of my love? Probably not. And that’s okay. It’s okay because I’ve learned something valuable: I know how to love myself.
Being there for yourself is one of the most empowering things you can do. It’s about learning to be your own support system, to fill your own well, and to keep it from running dry. Until someone comes along who values and loves you as much as you love yourself, you must wait. Wait for the right person.
Don’t keep pouring yourself into someone else’s bucket if theirs has a hole in it. One day, you’ll look into your own well and find it empty—depleted from giving so much without receiving anything in return. Be mindful. Love them, yes, but know your limits. Not everyone deserves your love, and that’s okay. Instead of pouring all your energy into someone else, redirect those efforts into building yourself. Work on your dreams, your goals, your passions. Focus on becoming the best version of you.
When someone truly values you, you’ll know. They’ll prioritize you, not just in words but in actions. They’ll ask about your day, genuinely curious about your thoughts, feelings, and experiences. They’ll respect your decisions, involve you in theirs, and cherish your presence in their life.
That’s the kind of love worth waiting for—the kind where the connection goes beyond the physical. It’s about soul connections, about two people coming together as equals, respecting and supporting each other through life’s ups and downs. It’s about finding someone who makes you feel whole, not because you need them to complete you, but because they complement the love you already have for yourself.
So, yes, self-love comes first. Love others as you love the sky, the river, the air, or the ants—things you can’t hold forever, but can cherish deeply. It’s about recognizing that love is not something you can possess or control, but something you can feel and appreciate. When you love others as you love these elements—free, expansive, and with an understanding of their fleeting nature—you love them without the need to cling, possess, or define.
I chose this analogy because it reflects a profound truth about love: it should be liberating, not suffocating. True love is not about needing to fill someone else’s cup at the expense of your own. It’s about loving them in a way that allows them to grow, to be themselves, and to come to you not because they have to, but because they want to. It’s loving them as you love the sky, for its vastness and beauty, even when you can’t touch it, and appreciating the way it brings life to everything around it. It’s about recognizing that love, like the sky or the river, is always present, always providing, and always there to nurture and sustain, regardless of whether you can see or hold it.
When I wrote that, I was trying to capture the essence of love that isn’t about possession or dependency. It’s about the kind of love that allows you to thrive, to be your best self, to feel seen and valued, without losing yourself in the process. It’s the love that is not bound by physical closeness or constant validation, but rather by a shared understanding and respect for each other’s independence and individuality.
Loving others in this way means not pouring yourself out to the point of depletion. It means giving love freely, without strings attached, but also knowing when to hold back, to protect yourself, and to nurture your own emotional well-being. This kind of love is not about being selfless to the point of losing yourself, but about being self-aware, about loving yourself first.
This experience taught me about self-worth and the importance of self-love. Yes, I do love them, but maybe I should not have loved them that much. Loving someone is beautiful, but not to the point where it depletes you. It’s about understanding that your own happiness and emotional well-being should come first. True love isn’t about exhausting yourself for someone else’s approval. It’s about finding a balance where you give love freely but also protect your heart, knowing that loving yourself first ensures you have enough to give to others.
Self-love is about recognizing your own worth and not allowing anyone to diminish it. It’s about maintaining your emotional and mental health, and protecting your heart from being overextended by giving too much to someone who may not be able to reciprocate. True love is not about sacrificing yourself, but about building a healthy, balanced relationship where both parties contribute equally. It’s about loving someone for who they are, for their essence and their soul, not just for their physical presence.
The analogy of loving others as you love the sky, the river, or the air captures this perfectly. It’s about loving freely, without expectation or demand, but with an awareness of the beauty and impermanence of love. It’s about finding someone who enhances your life, makes you feel seen, heard, and valued for the person you are. It’s about finding someone who loves you not just for what you give them, but for who you are, with all your flaws and strengths.
This is why I revised my earlier statement. It wasn’t just about loving someone without giving too much; it was about recognizing that self-love comes first. I used to think that love meant giving everything to another person, thinking that would make them stay or make them love me back. But now I realize that love isn’t about giving everything away; it’s about giving what’s healthy and sustainable, knowing when to hold back for the sake of your own well-being.
Loving someone should never come at the cost of your own happiness. This is a hard lesson I’ve learned through past experiences. In my earlier relationships, I gave so much of myself, thinking it would be enough, only to find myself empty and wondering if my love was real. I was pouring everything into someone else, thinking that would make them stay, but it wasn’t enough. True love is about finding someone who values and respects you as much as you value and respect them.
Now, I know better. Self-love is foundational. It’s the first step. Only when you love and respect yourself can you truly give and receive love from others. It’s about being the one who fills your own cup first, before pouring into someone else’s. Loving someone should enhance your life, not deplete it. It’s about finding a balance, knowing your limits, and protecting your heart from being overextended.
So, self-love comes first.
The Profound Magic of True Love
When someone truly understands you for who you are and starts loving you in return, it’s as though the universe itself conspires to bring magic into your life. This is no ordinary connection—it’s a deep and soulful bond that awakens something extraordinary in both people involved. It transcends the superficial, moving into a realm of emotional and spiritual intimacy that makes everything else pale in comparison.
Imagine a love where the other person genuinely cares about your well-being, not out of obligation but because their heartaches in your absence. When they feel the pang of longing when you’re not around, it’s a sign that your presence holds immense value in their life. It’s more than a fleeting sentiment—it’s an unspoken understanding that their world feels incomplete without you.
This kind of love isn’t about grand gestures or dramatic proclamations. It’s found in the quiet moments, the subtle actions that speak volumes. It’s when they ask, “How was your day?” with genuine curiosity, not just as a formality but because they truly care about your experiences, your joys, and your struggles. It’s when they want to know your thoughts, your feelings, and the little details that make you uniquely you.
True love goes beyond physical attraction. While physical connection is a natural and beautiful part of any romantic relationship, it’s not the foundation. What sets this love apart is the soul-deep connection that binds two people together. It’s the way they see you—not just the surface but the essence of who you are. They cherish your quirks, your flaws, and your dreams. They respect your individuality and honor your boundaries, never trying to mold you into someone else.
Respect becomes a cornerstone of this love. It’s shown when they listen to your opinions, even when they differ from their own. It’s in the way they value your input in their life decisions, inviting you into their world not as an outsider but as an integral part of their journey. This mutual respect fosters a partnership built on trust and understanding, where both individuals feel empowered to grow together.
When they care for you in these profound ways, something magical begins to unfold. You’ll notice how their actions align with their words, how their love is evident not just in what they say but in how they treat you. They’ll make you feel seen—not just for what you do but for who you are at your core. They’ll make you feel heard, valuing your voice and your perspective in every conversation. And most importantly, they’ll make you feel valued, as though your presence in their life is a treasure they hold close to their heart.
This kind of love isn’t just about giving; it’s about reciprocity. It’s about two people pouring into each other’s lives, creating a reservoir of love that never runs dry. It’s about finding someone who lifts you up, who stands by you in your struggles, and who celebrates your victories as if they were their own. It’s a love where both individuals grow together, constantly striving to be better for themselves and for each other.
When you find this connection, hold onto it with both hands. Nurture it, cherish it, and let it flourish. Because this is the kind of love that aligns with your self-worth. It’s the kind of love that reaffirms your belief in the beauty of mutual respect, understanding, and deep emotional connection.
Milta Hai Woh Mushkil Se
Aisa Jo Koi Kahin Hai
Bas Vahi Sabse Hasin Hai'
~"One who loves you whole-heartedly
It is difficult find such a person
If there is someone like that somewhere
That person is the most beautiful"
'Us Haath Ko Tum Thaam Lo
Woh Meherbaan Kal Ho Naa Ho
Har Pal Yahan
Jee Bhar Jiyo
Jo Hai Sama
Kal Ho Naa Ho'
~"Grab onto that person's hand
That well-wisher may not be there tomorrow
Every moment here,
Live to your heart’s content
No matter what the season
There may be no tomorrow"
This love is worth waiting for. It’s worth every moment of self-discovery, every instance of self-care, and every decision to prioritize your own well-being. It’s the love we all deserve—the love that reminds us that we are not just enough but truly extraordinary. And when you find it, you’ll realize that all the waiting, all the struggles, and all the lessons were leading you to this beautiful, magical moment.
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