Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 10
There was a time when I believed that intimacy was something instinctual, a force that either existed between two people or didn’t. But over time, I came to understand that intimacy is not simply a given; it is something that must be nurtured through honest and vulnerable conversations, each revealing the heart of what we need, fear, and desire.

I learned that the foundation of connection lies in acknowledging my deepest longings; those desires that go beyond physicality. It required me to unravel the layers of what I want, to express the complexities of attraction, and to embrace the discomfort of speaking my truth. Only by facing these unspoken needs could I truly invite another into the depth of my intimacy.

I also had to confront the tension between pleasure and discomfort. There’s an art in balancing these two forces, in recognizing that not every touch, every moment, will be perfect. It became clear to me that boundaries are essential, that knowing when to say ‘yes’ and when to say ‘no’ is as much a part of intimacy as the act of coming together. The body speaks in these moments, revealing both joy and hesitation, and I had to learn to listen.

Trust, I realized, is the heartbeat of connection. It is not enough to want intimacy; it must be built on a foundation where vulnerability can flourish. This is a trust that goes beyond words; it requires action, consistency, and the courage to be fully seen. In moments of doubt, I had to open myself further, revealing my flaws and insecurities, knowing that trust isn’t something to be passively given, but actively cultivated.

And then there’s the rhythm of how we communicate; the delicate balance of speaking and listening. I found that the most profound conversations are often those that leave space for silence, for reflection. Patience became my ally, as I learned that empathy in communication creates a shared experience, one that allows both of us to feel understood without the need for constant resolution.

But perhaps the most transformative realization was understanding that intimacy is not static. It evolves, just as we do. My body, my desires, and the way I seek connection have changed over time, and I’ve come to accept this as part of the journey. Rather than clinging to past versions of ourselves, I found a certain grace in adapting, in continually exploring new ways to nurture both trust and pleasure.

In the end, these realizations became more than lessons. They became a practice; an ongoing commitment to creating space for intimacy that is as rich emotionally as it is physically. It’s a space where love deepens, where empathy and passion intertwine, and where both partners are given the freedom to grow alongside each other.



It’s in the breath between words,
A place where we meet,
Beyond the edge of touch,
Where skin is not a barrier, but a bridge.

It’s in the slow unraveling of the heart,
Our truest selves,
Waiting to be seen,
waiting to be held.

Intimacy is the courage to stay,
Where bodies bend,
Not just for the warmth of another,
But for the release of what we carry alone.

The eyes that undress what words cannot,
The trust that grows
Not from promises spoken,
But from the weight of presence of being whole.

Where love is not just felt,
But understood
In the way we share our breath,
Our silence,
Our fears,
And our fire.

— Sincerely, Boris
Boris Cho
Written by
Boris Cho  41/M/Toronto, Ontario
(41/M/Toronto, Ontario)   
342
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems