You Might Call It Love

My Universal Theory of Love has to do not with how people fall into love -- that seems pretty obvious, but why. Also, I can't write about how or why people fall out of love because I do not understand that part.

What I think I understand and therefore can theorize about is the why. There's nothing original in my theory -- people fall in love because they need to. They seek intimacy, security, company, partnership, friendship and sex, not necessarily in that order.

The only part that interests me here is intimacy. So maybe what I have created is a Universal Theory of Intimacy. Here's how it goes:

Our expectations of intimacy form in childhood. If our parents are warm and loving toward us, regardless of their other flaws, we grow up expecting to experience that same intimacy as adults. We seek it in others, and a match occurs when the right balance of intimacy and individuality is found.

But if our parents neglected us emotionally, or worse yet, abandoned us, it's possible that as adults we will flee from intimacy when someone gets too close to us, because it begins to feel claustrophobic.

Adults can and do change their fate when it comes to intimacy. Besides therapy, which really can help, self-awareness is a tool for change. Sometimes, one amazingly loving partner can help to heal the wounds of a childhood bereft of intimacy. I've seen couples like this.

The intimacy question may remain invisible to many people; they just do not think in those terms; if so, they are likely to repeat patterns in relationships throughout their lives. They start new relationships much easier than those whose intimacy quotient is higher, and they break up much easier as well.

The pattern is to start and end relationships over intimacy. They tell other stories, some of which are compelling, but my Theory has merit. Once someone becomes "too close," they flee.

The problem here is that opposites attract. Sames attract too but those relationships often are doomed for different reasons. Opposites can form terrific relationships in intimacy, because they each have something vital to offer one another.

The deeply intimate person needs to learn how to be a strong individual on his or her own, to not let the quest for intimacy turn into neediness. Nobody long appreciates a partner who appears to not be able to make it on his own -- at least not in this culture.

The trick is to learn how to strike this balance while giving the gift of greater intimacy to the person accustomed to fleeing from it. Assuming self-awareness, everyone involved can calibrate their roles so that a true couple emerges.

Couples that last, I believe, solve this intimacy riddle. They are capable of cyclical adjustments -- both pulling apart for a while and then growing much closer again. An intimately balanced life supports both yin and yang.

The person seeking deep intimacy has to flee sometimes; the one who usually leave when things get too hot has to come back sometimes. People make mistakes, but our hearts tell us when we do.

There's a lot more to this Theory; it's complex stuff, and I am not a psychologist or a psychiatrist. I do fall in love, however, and in various relationships I've played both roles described above.

That's because all of this is relative. There are no absolutes. And it all changes as we age, and grow emotionally.

Admitting a mistake about intimacy is much harder than admitting an affair. The latter does not necessarily spell the end of a marriage -- sometimes it even brings people closer. But pinpointing a different in intimate needs often sounds and feels like blame, because we cannot fundamentally alter who we are in this respect.

The odd and beautiful thing, though, is we can learn how to balance one another. When she needs distance, he can provide it, without guilt-ripping. When she needs intimacy, he can provide that too.

No blame games. No tricks. Just working together to stay in balance.

You might cal that love.

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