The eroticism of being seen
Being seen is deeply terrifying.
And it’s also fucking hot.
And what we sometimes miss in the desire to be seen is that the appeal of it actually comes from your willingness to feel all of the sensations.
We LOVE feeling terror.
There is something so tingly, so exciting, so ALIVE about letting somebody all the way in.
Opening yourself fully.
Really we don’t do it because we are afraid of feeling that amount of sensation in our bodies.
When I started dating Jordan I wanted to contract, tighten up, pull away every time I sensed he was seeing me more deeply than I had ever been seen before.
It’s a lot to hold – and we have to trust ourselves fully to hold it.
This has been an ongoing practice of mine, this year. Now not just with Jordan, but with strangers – to open, to let them see me. To share the deeper pieces that I usually try to hide.
It’s my biggest edge still in friendship. In friendship I want to stay in my mind, tell the stories of my pain, talk about my analysis of my desires, rather than dropping into letting another person see me feel it in my body.
But opening – allowing another person to see you fully – is magnetic.
We come up with all these excuses why we can’t allow another person to see us.
We say, I’m too much, they won’t be able to hold me, they might say xyz, they won’t like it.
But that’s not really what we’re afraid of.
We are just unwilling to feel the delicious, electrifying sensation that runs through our bodies when we open.
We love the terror. We love the discomfort. We love the wash of erotic sensation that comes from letting somebody witness us fully.
You aren’t craving the RESULT of people seeing you.
You are craving that sensation. That level of turn on. In your life.
And you can begin that today. Just by opening.
If you liked this piece, you might also enjoy:
– You desire the things that secretly disgust you
– We crave the things that are bad for us
– Watch the stories your mind creates
– Feeling & naming your full desire: Jordan pays for our lives and this is what that looks like
– The erotic nature of disgust