“The security gap is severe. And it's scary and it feels dangerous. But it's not as hard, scary or dangerous as coming to the end of our lives and having to ask ourselves, "What if I showed up?" ~ Brené Brown
January – 2012
I remember sitting in a small, dark room waiting for the surgeon to arrive.
My son had just undergone major surgery to treat a complex disease that had cost him his small intestine and it had taken much longer than expected.
My stomach felt tense as the surgeon sat in the chair across from us.
He looked at the floor when he started to speak.
"It's not good news," he said.
"We think he still has a week to live."
Then my mind turned off. I felt my wife's head on my shoulder and heard her tears.
Was it a bad dream?
June – 2017
My feet feel heavy as I nervously go to the divorce court.
Twelve years have ended and it is time to let them go.
We lived under extreme stress every night with our son for five years, constantly in the hospital. I think the only thing worse than being in a war zone is being in intensive care for twelve months and watching kids die next to you.
I know I did my best, but somehow we got lost. Both were in our own pain, and I didn't want to be vulnerable or let them in completely.
As I stand in a small, smelly room in front of the court and wait for the hearing, my thoughts drift back.
May – 1988
I'm in the hallway after school, surrounded by three tall men.
They laugh at me and push me. I know what's coming and I can feel my heartbeat increase and my stomach feel tight.
I wish I could be anywhere but here, but there is no way out. I am surrounded.
I feel the kick in my chest as I fall to the ground and have difficulty breathing. A few more blows and I hear their voices fade as they walk away.
I get up embarrassed and in pain, but I pretend to be okay. I remember what I learned. Never show weakness …
August – 1998
That reminds me of something that I experienced before. I'm in a harbor surrounded by three tall men with tattoos on their arms and necks.
I don't see the guy who circled me and suddenly I feel the slap in my ear. I let myself fall on the floor.
I get up slowly and say: "Are we finished?"
I get kicked in the stomach and fly backwards.
I get up slowly and ask: "Are we finished?"
And another round.
I shouldn't show any emotions. That's how I survive. I know this game …
June – 2017
I hear a voice and snap out of my thoughts.
It is the lady-in-waiting and she says the hearing has been canceled.
When I get on the London Underground, I close my eyes and drift off again …
March – 2014
It started here.
He is an upbeat, energetic Italian scientist that I found online while researching leading experts around the world, and he is my only hope.
I tell him the story of my son and that only regenerative medicine that he is researching can save my boy.
He tells me we need to raise $ 7.5 million to do the research.
He looks at me in disbelief when I say, "Okay, I'll get this."
Whatever it takes to save my little boy …
June – 2017
I finally got home from divorce court.
I look out the window and despite everything I have achieved, I feel empty.
My son is still here five years later and we managed to raise $ 8 million. I have a lot of friends and had a business that I built from the ground up with fifty employees.
Why do I feel so empty?
I know the answer, but I'm afraid to admit it because I'm a man. I am strong and I don't need anyone.
I survived violent clashes, built a business from scratch, saved my boy when he wasn't given a chance, I help innovate medical science, and I fought and won litigation against our national health service …
]
I know I am strong, but I feel alone. Separated from others.
Suddenly I realize that I've made myself alone. Because I've learned to only count on myself and never show vulnerability.
I google the vulnerability and find Brené Brown's TED talk. All of a sudden, I realize that I've lived in fear all my life. In survival mode.
While survival is essential and has served me at one time in life, it doesn't actually live.
But somehow it's more scary than a fist fight to be vulnerable and dependent on others. More scary than death.
So I know what to do. I have to let go of my protective angle because it is no longer needed and keeps me from living.
I'm signing up for a class over the summer and jumping on a plane to San Francisco.
All of these hippies are scary. You are so relaxed with touch. It makes me feel uncomfortable.
They share things and cry, which makes my stomach twitch because I'm scared of having to do the same.
I want everyone to see how strong and manly I am.
It is Kreiszeit. Oh i hate this. And this time we have to share the vulnerability with the group.
I pray that someone will burst through the door and shoot me. After all, it's America. But to my desperation nothing happens.
When it is my turn, I am still alive. F…
I can feel myself shaking.
I tell the group about my son and the long, dark nights when I would stand in the living room and cry, and I am deeply afraid that the next day he would no longer be alive.
I never let anyone see me cry because they thought I had everything together. But I was scared, so scared.
I finally break down and cry in front of the group. I cry like a baby
You all look at me with love and compassion. They even seem more connected to me and I feel more connected to them.
Something happened that I have never seen before. I don't even know these people, but they know me better now than my ex-wife, family, or childhood friends.
I feel that I can finally be myself. Strong and vulnerable.
I get a friend of mine who is a masseuse to give me a gentle massage on my stomach and chest because I know how much I don't like being touched there.
I don't know why, but I can feel my body tense and resisting.
I close my eyes and slowly let go. When I let go of the tension, I can feel a hurt and hurt little child inside of me crying, and I let it go. I'm in hippie country now, why now?
Something extraordinary happens. I enjoy the touch. Yeah i really like it
It no longer feels irritating. As I leave the course, I realize that touch is one of my love languages and I can't get enough.
Who knew that summer would change my life?
My friendships, my relationships, everything has changed since I came home.
I feel better seen and accepted now that I am more open, and I can see and accept the people around me better, which helps them to be more open too.
I found the missing formula for intimacy and love for myself and others.
And it's not complicated. It just takes courage.
Just as a plant needs air, water and sun to grow, love needs security, vulnerability and acceptance.
I have found the strength. May the force be with you.
About Thomas Westenholz
Thomas is the founder of Zensensa.com, the leading institute for relationship intimacy. He is the author of two books on intimacy and sexuality. Training in somatic relationships and sexuality in San Francisco. Developed the 3-step framework for intimacy and love for couples. Check out his podcast on Apple Podcasts and Spotify and follow him on Instagram here.
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