harm as intimacy

Hello, reader.  How’ve you been?  I’ve been thinking about harm as intimacy for some time now–a few years.  I don’t know a lot about trauma bonding, but maybe they’re related.  When someone loves me but can’t get close to me for whatever reason–I set a boundary, or I’m pulled far away–they can get intimacy with me by harming me.

It’s a selfish, sick kind of intimacy, but sometimes harm is the only way they can reach me.  Not that harming me is their first choice, necessarily.  But harm can wound deeply, and if they want deep access to me, their harm can accomplish that in a dramatic way.

content warning: brief mentions of sexual violence, relationship violence, and a mention of shooters

Some people really are that messed up and selfish, that they consider their need for intimacy more important than my need for freedom or peace.

My rapist was like that.  He put himself first, obviously.  At the beginning, I’m sure he twisted things in his head to justify his behavior and convince himself he was doing nothing wrong.  People go to great lengths to convince themselves that their violence is ok or isn’t violence at all.

But after a point, he had to recognize the pattern of what he was doing to me and others.  At least part of him understood that what he was doing was very wrong.

harm as intimacy example

Here’s a mild example of harm as intimacy that I don’t think will be a problem to share.  It happened between me and my dad when I was a little child.  My mom told me the story a few times over the years.

I was a little child, running around wildly, and my dad was annoyed by my antics.  One of the times I ran by him, he put his hand out to swat my butt and tell me to calm down or stop running in the house.  Unfortunately, he hit me just right such that I flew into the coffee table and hit the corner.  I was injured, and he felt really bad.

He didn’t mean to injure me for sure.  But he did mean to swat me and slightly chastise me.  I wasn’t talking to him or hanging out with him–my behavior was not about him.  His swat was probably affectionate and a way to have contact and a little intimacy.  But it was one-sided and resulted in bloodshed and distress.

Maybe that’s not a good example because the actual harm was accidental.  But maybe you see what I mean.  I wasn’t going to stop to hug or talk.  So he chose a lesser type of contact, and it had bad consequences for both of us.  I was physically harmed, and he felt like a horrible person.  The guilt, shame, pain, and violation of trust were terrible.

more examples

People who harass others, stalk, and probably some shooters are trying to use harm as intimacy.  They can’t get closeness in a skilled, mutual way, so they cross boundaries and do violence as a way to have a big impact on someone.

Rapists often are looking for intimacy, I’m guessing.  Rather than going a caring route within respectful relationship, they are harming people as a shortcut.  Well, I don’t claim to know what’s going through the minds of rapists.  But at least some rapes are probably twisted attempts at intimacy.

sad

Well, this topic is getting me down.  I just thought you might appreciate the concept, reader.  I haven’t heard others talk about it before.

A lawsuit might be an attempt at intimacy.  Someone who loves and hates me can’t reach me, so they battle me in court.  That’s the last place they’re allowed to battle me because I’m legally required to respond.  I blocked their calls and txts and emails long ago, but the justice system remains.

A verbal attack during a breakup process might be an attempt at intimacy.  Many times, words hurt because the person knows me well.  I’m not going to hug or support and hang out with this person anymore.  So if they want intimacy with me, lashing out can be a fucked up way to connect.

I remember a good friend in England who was hurting me too much, so I asked for time off.  He agreed to the time off, then couldn’t help but email me a few times to lash out.  That was the end of that.  His need to criticize me was more important than my need for rest from the relationship.

I asked for time off because I needed it, to recuperate and figure out a better way to be friends with this person.  When he couldn’t abide by our agreement, I felt more certain that he didn’t really care about me.  I existed for his benefit–our friendship wasn’t mutual.  My needs didn’t matter to him.

love

There are so many ways to share intimacy.  Consent is sacred, and we can build our skills to be respectful to one another.  I can’t read minds–well, not consistently.  But I learn how to ask questions to check in, and I proceed with caution when I’m not sure what someone else wants with me, or not sure what I really want.

Life is full of suffering in one way or another–I’m thinking of death and illness, as Ming coughs in creative, chilling ways in the other room.  I don’t need to contribute to the inevitable suffering through mistakes in relationship.

I’m sorry that violence is fetishized in our culture.  I’m sorry some people want to play with boundaries in a non-consent way.  That’s not for me.  I love yes, and I love no.

Thank you for having the difficult conversations.  Thank you for erring on the side of respecting people who ask for space by leaving us alone.