Broni Nowicka

I went to the movies by myself this week…and I watched Wuthering Heights – I was expecting romance, and some kinky stuff, but, honestly, whenever they said ‘I love you’ it felt like…they were trying to dirty talk?

I’m not going to criticize THE MOVIE (also, no real spoilers if you watched the trailer), but I’m overthinking the idea that makes that a love story.

I got so desensitized to the regular idea of love that whenever Heathcliff and Catherine were ~~fucking~~ getting intimate – with Catherine putting grass in his mouth at some point – and saying they loved each other, it felt really off instead of being sexy, or even romantic.

But here’s the thing: ‘love’ used to be THE word that made sexual interactions – in a relationship – more magical, more romantic and more special, just by saying or listening to that – not anymore, not for me.

The definition of love that I found recently is from a Bell Hooks book: “the will to extend one’s self for the purpose of nurturing one’s own or another’s spiritual growth.”

That’s an action.

So, ‘love’ as an action of nurturing someone’s ‘spiritual growth’, could be something like:

Loving someone means encouraging them to be their fullest, most alive and unapologetic self.

What that looks like is different for each person.

Love is a feeling of course, but without that action, that will and effort to actually encourage someone to grow into who they most fully are, then…it’s just a word that doesn’t actually mean what people think it means.

From a ‘romantic’ perspective, love is often mistaken by thinking about someone, which turns into hyperfixation and creepy obsession when they’re not around and that… well, that’s not love – there’s another word for that, which is limerence – my favorite sport, by the way.

People say I love you, but what they actually mean could be:

I care about you and I respect you
I think you’re really sexy, I get turned on by you ~~and I wanna have sex with you~~
I feel responsible for you and I want to protect you
I feel more regulated when I’m with you
I want you to be safe
I want you to do things for me
I need you to fill an emptiness/void in me
I enjoy your company
I want to see you smile so I brought this gift
I feel entertained and amused by you
I get dopamine rushes when we’re together
I feel seen when I’m with you

All of those things are great, and the list can go on and on, but none of those things are, in fact, actions that help the other person’s ‘spiritual growth’.

So it was REALLY HARD for me to let this land: I had been cared for, protected, I had received affection…but not encouraged to be my full self, not romantically.

So by definition, love is extremely rare. Most people won’t get to experience that…ever.

Most of the romantic experiences I had, of what I thought love was…actually, wasn’t love.

That hurt.

I had never been loved.

It can start with attraction

I have to admit that I didn’t know what being truly loved felt like until roughly half a year ago.

Let’s call him…Keith, ok? So, I met him randomly at a cool listening bar in my city.

It was the last stop of a ‘girls night out’ with a friend of mine, which had started with ceramics and wine, so by then I was almost ready to call it a night (already in the drinking water stage), and he showed up with a friend.

They both knew my friend, so we sat together – and we ordered more drinks.

Whenever I’m talking to someone for the first time, I mostly listen and ask questions, while opening a bunch of mental tabs.

When I get a sense of what the person is interested in and how their brain works (which is pretty intuitive for me) I share some references I have that the person could be interested in.

You know, content.

Within the first 10 minutes of talking I mentioned the video ‘The Egg’ and I wanted to share that with him.

I remembered I could use the NameDrop thing on the iPhone, so I basically touched his phone with the top of my phone, so we could exchange contacts and I’d send him the link to the video.

He found the video before I could send it to him. But we exchanged contacts.

Well, for some reason men feel that’s highly intimate, touching phones like that.

Anyways. Some minor fun sexual tension while NameDropping.

When he was talking, his earrings would shake a little and reflect the low light in the place. He looked…sexy? I can’t really recall what I thought.

I was curious about him, I wanted to know more and listening to him talking was soothing for my brain, for whatever reason. I could relax around him – that never happens. Ever.

We had a great night talking and bar hopping (totally unexpected) and the four of us ended up at what seemed to me a shady club – that is also a Japanese tattoo place during the day.

It felt a bit like Nick and Nora’s infinite playlist kinda night (have you watched it?), but with less drama and no lost friends.

No making out.

What being fully loved is, for me

After the ‘night out’, I got home, he had been sweet the whole night and it ended up with him holding my jacket so I could put it on before I got my Uber. Micro thoughtful gesture.

I thought I wouldn’t see him again anytime soon – he lived in a different city and was traveling back the next day or something – and I was fine with that.

Yes, he was interesting. Yes we had had a great time. Nothing more than that. Nothing really…special?

Until he texted me the next day.

He had watched The Egg.

Not just watched. He had processed that. And the way he wrote and what he said really tickled my brain.

He could handle depth. He could eloquently and poetically talk about this crazy existence that life is.

That conversation about The Egg escalated to other topics, other stories.

He spent more days in my town so we could have ‘a date’. I wanted that, and I was curious for the plot twist that would mean to my life.

The first date that turned into other dates and the greatest gift I could’ve never have imagined possible: feeling truly and deeply loved.

This is what being loved FEELS like, FOR ME:

I feel like I can be ‘held’ fully (I don’t feel like I’m too much)
I can think and talk as deep as I want, about anything – stream of consciousness is appreciated
I can be myself without the need to edit things – no need to perform or ‘water myself down’
I feel bold, confident, and safe to ‘just exist’
I feel emotionally safe, cared for, listened to…and seen.
I feel cherished, adored, validated
I feel safe to be vulnerable
I can express myself in the way I talk, how I dress, and do the things that bring me joy
I can be creative, in my writing, my drawings, how I do things
I can be sensual, sexual, playful, funny
I feel free and energized
I’m free to overthink, philosophize or simply do nothing – and not feel judged or ashamed by that
I feel powerful, and I don’t need permission to be or do anything – it’s a state of sovereignty
I feel I get to be my most unapologetic effortless self – out loud

Being with him felt like coming home for the first time.

Now, this is what love LOOKS like for me – with Keith – in ACTIONS:

We have deep conversations and it’s a solid exchange of ideas, perspectives and the way he sees the world makes my mind expand and I learn so much from him and the references he shares are relevant for me
It feels like he is genuinely interested in me and the things I have to say, no matter how random the topic is, he listens, he asks deeper questions…he wants to know more
During those conversations, when we don’t agree on something, even if it’s a sensitive topic, he’s able to share his perspective in a loving and respectful way – I listen
When I’m talking, and there is silence as I’m processing things before speaking, he holds the space. He waits. He doesn’t fill in the silence. He is patient.
I feel safe to share all the crazy things I’ve done in life, the things that make me proud of myself, the traumatic ones that make me feel ashamed of, the things that fascinate me – all of that made me who I am, and he can handle all that
Meeting me in another city, at the airport before I travel abroad and bringing small gifts (like chocolate), writing a sweet note and adding his fragrance on it – so I could take it with me
If I share something about a challenge I’m facing, but I’m not so sure if I can handle it, he gives actual sound inputs and motivates me in going after that, it’s like a gentle but hard push and I feel like ‘I got this’
He validates me with words, appreciating the things I do for him, actually verbalizing what’s working for him and what things mean to him – it’s a great feedback loop that keeps me ‘aware’ of how things land with him – he sends voice notes
When I’m excited about something in my life he also gets excited for me, and encourages me to follow what feels right for me – he trusts me with my own life decisions, zero judgement
Oh, and the sex? I feel equally safe and turned on. I can probably experience anything in the range of fornicating in the bathroom of a night club and a 6-hour love making tantric session…It’s wildly sacred.

All of those things (what he did and how I felt) led me to actually grow into what felt like my fullest self, and how I was showing up in life…which led me to skyrocket (in a way) at work, get a nice raise, move into a sick apartment and feel more creative and alive than ever – I was painting, drawing, writing…

It’s a ridiculous understatement to say that I felt like the woman I’d always dreamed of becoming.

I was aware of ‘my potential’, but I didn’t know that living like that was remotely possible.

Becoming me. Fully. Seen. Heard. And being cherished for all that I am.

I felt like I could take the whole world, but…why would I want the world, if I had him?

At some point, during a flight from Brazil to Poland, as I was drinking white wine from a plastic cup, with my earphones on, listening to some of his voice notes, I had a realization: if – hypothetically speaking – I could make a deal, with whatever entity is responsible for people’s death, I’d like to kindly request to die before him.

Not in a suicidal way, like right there and then, but…in some decades, when we’re really old…

…I recently learned there’s an Arabic expression for that: tu’burni, which is dramatically poetic.

Having him in my life made things feel richer, more colorful, more interesting, more possible.

I felt like that baby that was born death but then got to hear for the first time.

Even ordinary life felt somewhat blissful. I wanted to just…live and experience life with him.

I wanted to stay stuck in traffic with him. Being in a freaking long grocery line with him. And having the “privilege” of waking up besides him and think that was just another regular day – maybe getting sick of that at some point.

A normal day, in my perfect life.

If I could choose, I wouldn’t want to stay in this universe if he weren’t in it.

Life on this earth would be dull, colorless and almost unbearable.

Not having him in my life, would be devastating.

And it was. Because he left me.

A short – and painful – lesson about chemistry and compatibility

We did have intimacy in different and important dimensions (for me): emotionally, intellectually, spiritually, sexually…I would say I had safe attachment with him…so, we had great chemistry, right?

Right.

I thought I had met someone who was on the same page as me and I truly wanted him as a life partner.

I couldn’t possibly imagine someone who was a better fit for me –even if we had a somewhat completely incompatible lifestyle (I thought we’d sort that out at some point, I mean…we LOVED each other, right? Disney taught me that ‘love’ conquers all…).

I didn’t ask him to change for me, but I had a belief that if he ‘became’ more himself, the universe would naturally and effortlessly bring us closer together. I could dream, ok?

Now, after all that…I believe that in order for you to love and be fully loved, in a romantic relationship, you have to love yourself.

Or you just won’t be able to afford and sustain whatever ‘love’ comes your way.

You’ll hit a wall – an upper limit, related to what you’re more used to experiencing (and how your attachment/connection to other people works) than what you believe and say you want.

If your body, your nervous system, don’t KNOW what safe ‘attachment’ feels like, it just won’t feel safe when you experience that, it can feel triggering.

There’s no amount of ‘rationalizing’ that can help changing that, especially when you don’t know how your ‘inner system works’, and how to self regulate, then you’ll easily choose a known hell over an unknown heaven.

Hard fact: he didn’t choose me.

I’m not gonna list ‘how’ I loved him and why (not today at least), and yes, partially it was because of how I felt when I was with him, but I still admire him for who he is and how he shows up in the world.

I still believe he’s one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met, and I radically accept him with all of his genius AND his chaos.

Either way…loving someone unconditionally, and feeling deeply loved is one thing – which is colossal in its own right, I don’t take that for granted.

Another thing is building a relationship for life – or even for a period of time.

Ok, hear me out (or, read):

Having a relationship is not an effortless consequence of loving someone. You have to choose and you have to be consistent.

If you want to build a relationship

It’s not simple, but if you want to build a relationship, you’ll need to be intentional, have compatibility and be consistent about that.

Intention

Two people WANTING to have a relationship (it could be more than 2 people, if you’re great at management – I know I’m not).

Compatibility

As in shared and/or complementary values like , lifestyle (things like, doing drugs recreationally or not, maybe working out and taking supplements. Having a routine of sleeping early or being a party person during work days and having a full social calendar. Parenting style…Being monogamous or not. ), future goals like having a family, living as a nomad, intentionally building wealth or just letting the universe handle your personal finances. Things like that…

Consistency

It’s the consistency that will create the foundation for what that connection could turn into. And how consistent something/someone is gives you all the answers you’ll ever need. That’s also equally true for your relationship with yourself.

So, I thought we were on the same page.

And if we weren’t, at any point, I trusted that we had the space, and self awareness/emotional maturity enough to bring that up and sort things out.

I knew it wasn’t gonna be a fairy tale, and maybe our connection, as rare and precious as it felt, just maybe, wouldn’t fit a ‘regular romantic’ relationship.

What I know to be true, for me, is that I wish he could be his full self, in all his potential (whatever that looks like for him), and I wanted to have him, in whatever format, in my life, for as long as I lived.

I mean, what if he decides that being his full self means becoming a monk and living isolated in a mountain cave in Tibet?

I’d miss him deeply, but I’d encourage him and support the hell out of that.

When he left me, well…I’ll spare you – and myself – of that existential period of my life…for now.

The break up was a whole other saga with its own drama – a spoiler, if you will: trying to ‘heal’ felt like Leonid Rogozov performing open body self surgery to remove his appendix…

…and going through that grief gave me a couple of months of situational depression.

I hadn’t just ‘lost him’, it wasn’t just heartbreak…it all felt like I had lost the key to be my full self. I had lost the permission to…be.

What’s important is that I survived it, obviously, and that the break up – and him leaving me – was as valuable as the time we were together. I’ll go deeper about that some other time.

The conclusion for all of that, is that the time we shared completely changed me, forever.

I hadn’t felt that loved before, and that became a clear blueprint for what I want to feel like in this lifetime.

He wasn’t the source of the love, but he was an important catalyst to everything else that followed – my own personal growth, my achievements and how I show up for myself.

Keith was the key to my inner power. He’s not destiny, though. It took me a while to let that land.

Loving him – currently – means letting him go, to whatever he trusts is right for him – even if it means not having him in my life anymore.

Loving him means stopping hoping ‘for us’ and just wishing he gets to live his life as fully as he desires, whatever that means for him – I couldn’t possibly tell, maybe neither could he.

Having met him and experiencing all that led to me a whole path of slowly learning how I could love myself – I wouldn’t say I was fully aware of what that was like for me, and I’m sure as hell I wasn’t consistent with that. It feels like rehab sometimes.

‘I love you’ is ruining my life

Now…I have to admit that what sucks is that knowing all of that completely ruined my experience of romantic love in pop culture.

The movies and the ‘I love yous’ people say just don’t hit the same, love songs don’t sound like LOVE songs anymore, sorry Taylor Swift (oh, besides the ones about Travis, OBVIOUSLY).

At the end of the day, we have to choose what we’d rather regret in life.

We have to choose ourselves and do what feels most truthful and aligned with what’s right for us, each day. That’s love.

You have to choose you, and love yourself so hard, that even if no other person does that – no matter how amazing they seem to be and how divine they make you feel – you still get you.

You still get to be your fullest and most alive self.

And that…that’s the hardest work of a lifetime.

…she touched herself

Saying ‘I love you’ is not dirty talk