Rethinking Couple’s Intimacy in Contemporary Society

Rethinking Couple’s Intimacy in Contemporary Society

Introduction

In contemporary society, intimacy between couples has undergone significant transformation, shaped by evolving cultural norms, digital technology, changing gender roles, and shifting expectations around emotional and sexual connection. While traditionally understood in terms of physical closeness and romantic bonding, intimacy today has expanded into a multidimensional concept encompassing emotional vulnerability, digital connection, and personal autonomy. With rising rates of cohabitation without marriage, declining sexual frequency among younger adults, and the increasing normalization of non-monogamous relationships, the framework within which intimacy is understood must be re-evaluated. This blog explores the changing contours of intimacy among couples, identifying how societal changes, technology, and personal identity are reshaping what it means to be close to another person in the 21st century—drawing from historical, anthropological, and psychotherapeutic perspectives.

The Shift in Cultural Norms and Relationship Models

Historically, intimacy – in some cultures – was strongly associated with marriage and family structure, where physical proximity and emotional dependence were central to coupledom. However, the very notion of intimacy in intimate partnerships was not universally conceptualized as it is today. In ancient Greek society, for instance, the ideal of intimacy in heterosexual marriage was relatively limited. Marriages were primarily seen as economic and social arrangements. Emotional and intellectual intimacy were often sought outside the marital relationship, particularly in homoerotic relationships between older and younger men (pederasty), which were highly ritualized and culturally sanctioned.

Similarly, in ancient Rome, marital intimacy was rarely romantic. Roman elites viewed marriage as a civic duty, often arranged for political alliances or inheritance concerns. The Roman poet Ovid, in his Ars Amatoria, highlighted the strategies of seduction and pleasure, but within a framework that often separated love and duty. Romantic or sexual desire, especially for elite men, was frequently satisfied through extramarital affairs, concubines, or courtesans, suggesting that the modern ideal of romantic partnership built on mutual emotional and sexual intimacy is historically recent and culturally specific.

Contemporary relationships, in contrast, often emphasize emotional compatibility, shared values, and personal growth. A growing openness to diverse relationship models—such as long-distance partnerships, polyamory, and consensual non-monogamy—reflects this shift. These arrangements challenge the assumption that intimacy requires exclusivity or physical closeness. Many couples now define their relationships on their own terms, crafting unique arrangements that accommodate both emotional security and individual freedom.

Anthropological studies support this view of intimacy as a culturally constructed phenomenon. Among the Mosuo people of China, often referred to as one of the last matrilineal societies, the concept of “walking marriages” allows women to choose their lovers without cohabitation or economic dependency. Relationships are based on mutual affection, but the emphasis is on personal autonomy rather than co-residence or long-term obligation. In Trobriand Islander society, as studied by Bronisław Malinowski, premarital sex and casual romantic liaisons were culturally accepted and even celebrated, though marriage was tied to kinship and clan alliances more than romantic intimacy. The Na people of China are a non-monogamous, non-cohabiting kinship structure. Within this group there is no expectation of monogamy or exclusive emotional bonds in partnerships. The Na people (closely related to the Mosuo) practice a kinship system in which sexual relationships are casual and non-exclusive, and partners do not cohabit. Maternal uncles, not fathers, raise children. This ethnic group defies the Western emphasis on fatherhood, emotional exclusivity, and the household as the unit of family.

These examples demonstrate that the Western nuclear model of emotionally exclusive, cohabiting, monogamous couples is neither universal nor timeless. Western model is historically recent. Before industrialization, European households often included extended kin, servants, apprentices, and non-relatives. Romantic love and emotional exclusivity were not primary criteria for marriage, which was often an economic or social arrangement. In the West, the emotionally exclusive, romantic, nuclear family model is a relatively modern invention, solidified during the 19th and 20th centuries.

 

 

The Impact of Technology on Intimacy

One of the most significant forces reshaping intimacy today is digital technology. While technology enables couples to stay connected across distances through messaging, video calls, and social media, it also introduces new challenges. Digital communication can enhance connection, but it can also lead to superficial interactions, reduced face-to-face engagement, and a paradoxical sense of isolation even within relationships.

Historically, intimacy had to be cultivated through physical proximity or handwritten correspondence over long distances. In earlier societies, time and space imposed natural limits on communication, which often lent a different rhythm to relational development. In contrast, modern digital culture allows for constant contact, which can blur the boundaries between emotional presence and physical absence.

Dating apps and social media platforms have contributed to the commodification of romantic relationships. The availability of endless options can foster a “grass is greener” mindset, undermining long-term commitment and deep emotional intimacy. Moreover, constant exposure to curated depictions of other relationships on platforms and or social media can lead to unrealistic expectations and dissatisfaction within one’s own partnership.

At the same time, technology offers opportunities for novel forms of intimacy. Couples can share playlists, play games together online, or co-watch shows virtually. For long-distance partners, such digital rituals can become meaningful expressions of closeness. Additionally, technology has enabled more open communication about sex, mental health, and emotions, particularly through platforms that offer educational resources, therapy access, and anonymous forums.

Emotional Intimacy and the Rise of Therapeutic Culture

The rise of mental health awareness and therapeutic culture has significantly influenced how couples engage with emotional intimacy. Emotional expression, once stigmatized or constrained by gender norms, is now seen as essential to healthy relationships. Therapy, both individual and couples-based, has become more normalized, encouraging people to explore attachment styles, communication patterns, and emotional needs.

This emphasis on emotional literacy is a relatively modern development. In many pre-modern societies, emotional intimacy was neither expected nor prioritized within marriage. Anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss, in his structuralist analyses, noted that in many kinship-based societies, marriage was a system for exchanging women between groups to forge alliances—not to satisfy individual romantic desires or emotional needs.

Today’s emphasis on emotional labour—the ability to recognize and respond to a partner’s emotional states—is part of a broader shift toward psychological individualism. This is particularly salient in an age of increasing psychological stress, where partners are often expected to be each other’s primary source of emotional support. While this can deepen connection, it can also place strain on relationships, especially if one or both partners lack the tools or energy to consistently provide this level of support.

Moreover, the language of therapy—terms like “boundaries,” “trauma,” “gaslighting,” and “attachment styles”—has entered everyday discourse, reshaping how people perceive and navigate intimacy. On the one hand, this vocabulary can empower couples to understand and articulate their experiences more effectively. On the other, it can pathologize normal relational tensions or be misused to avoid vulnerability.

Sexual Intimacy in the Age of Anxiety and Liberation

Sexual intimacy, long regarded as a cornerstone of romantic relationships, is also undergoing re-examination. Studies suggest that despite growing sexual openness and access to sexual content, many couples are having less sex than previous generations. Contributing factors include stress, busy lifestyles, mental health issues, and overexposure to digital media.

Looking back, sexual norms across cultures have varied widely. In classical Greece, sexuality was often not restricted by binary ideas of heterosexuality or monogamy. Symposia, or elite male gatherings, frequently included sexual relationships between older and younger men, framed within pedagogical and philosophical traditions. In pre-colonial African societies, such as the Nuer of Sudan, marriage often included sexual expectations, but romantic love was not necessarily a precondition for sexual intimacy or marriage.

At the same time, contemporary society is increasingly inclusive in its understanding of sexual identity and desire. A growing number of individuals identify as asexual, demisexual, or on the LGBTQIA+ spectrum, expanding traditional notions of what sexual intimacy looks like. Couples are more likely to discuss desires, boundaries, and consent openly, leading to more fulfilling and respectful sexual relationships.

Some couples are also re-evaluating the centrality of sex in their relationship, placing more emphasis on non-sexual touch, emotional attunement, and shared experiences. This reflects a broader cultural recognition that intimacy is multifaceted and not limited to sexual expression.

 

Gestalt Therapy and the Reconstruction of Intimacy

Given the profound shifts in how intimacy is conceptualized and practiced, psychotherapy offers important tools for navigating these transitions. Among the many therapeutic modalities, Gestalt therapy provides a particularly relevant framework for addressing modern relational challenges. Rooted in existential philosophy and phenomenology, Gestalt therapy emphasizes awareness, presence, and the integration of experience—elements central to cultivating authentic intimacy.

A Gestalt therapist working with couples focuses on helping each partner increase awareness of their present-moment experiences—emotional, cognitive, and bodily—and explores how unresolved patterns from the past may be interfering with connection in the present. This is especially useful in modern relationships, where emotional language may be abundant, but embodied relational presence is often lacking.

Rather than analysing the relationship abstractly, as Gestalt therapist, I would invite partners into direct, real-time dialogue, exploring how they interrupt closeness, avoid vulnerability, or project unmet needs onto each other. For example, one partner may complain about emotional distance, but as their therapist I may help them notice how they themselves withdraw or close off in moments of potential connection.

Key strategies include:

  • Here-and-Now Processing: Staying with what is happening between partners in the moment, using tools like sentence completions (“When you said that, I felt…”) to deepen awareness.
  • Awareness of Contact and Withdrawal: Helping partners notice how they move toward or away from intimacy—through posture, tone, or silence.
  • Working with Polarities: Exploring inner conflicts, such as the desire for independence versus closeness, and integrating these parts rather than acting them out in the relationship.
  • Dialogical Relationship: Modeling authentic, two-way engagement, which mirrors the mutual respect needed for modern intimacy.
  • Body Awareness: Reconnecting with somatic cues—breath, tension, energy—can help partners move from conceptual understanding to embodied presence.

In a culture where intimacy is often idealized but difficult to sustain, Gestalt therapy offers couples a way to experience one another more fully.

Conclusion: Finding Our Own Paths to Intimacy & Eroticism

At its core, intimacy is not a one‑size‑fits‑all project. Mainstream ideals—monogamy, constant passion, perfect emotional expressiveness—are powerful, but they’re also shaped by culture, media, tradition. For many of us, they can feel inspiring; for others, they feel oppressive or mismatched to our personalities or situations.

Intimacy is not a static achievement—it is a continuous, evolving practice. It asks us to stay curious, to risk vulnerability, to choose connection even when it’s hard. It invites eroticism not as a permanent blaze, but as a vital flame we tend with care, imagination, and freedom.

Your path can be one you build, and rebuild, in ways that feel alive. Your relationship can become not just a refuge—but a space where you grow, explore, surprise one another, and choose love freely.

What seems essential is finding your own way—what feels deeply real, nourishing, erotic, honest.

Simone de Beauvoir affirmed that: “Authentic love must be founded on reciprocal recognition of two freedoms.”
This reminds us that love thrives when both partners retain and respect each other’s autonomy, rather than one subsuming the other.

A relationship grounded in respect and genuine knowledge of the other helps avoid the trap of using love as possession or control.

“If intimacy grows through repetition and familiarity, eroticism is numbed by repetition. It thrives on the mysterious, the novel, and the unexpected. Love is about having; desire is about wanting”, affirms Esther Perel.

Eroticism requires ongoing renewal—curiosity, surprise, mystery—not just comfort and sameness.

What seems important is to define your own values around intimacy and eroticism. What forms of closeness matter to you? What feels dangerous but alive? Talking with your partner about what feels good, what feels missing, what boundaries you need. Negotiate terms that suit both your needs. Keep mystery and novelty alive: surprise, unpredictability, play, small rituals that break routine. Honour both togetherness and separateness. Intimacy often needs space. Recognize that intimacy ebbs and flows: there will be times of closeness and times of distance. Last but not least, the key is willingness to repair, reconnect, and adjust.

This blog has been edited with the support of AI.

How an existential experience of absence can be dealt with in psychotherapy?

I. The Gestalt Approach: Absence as a Presence

Gestalt psychology, which emerged in the early twentieth century, redefined how we understand absence. In contrast to traditional views that frame absence as a mere lack, Gestalt theorists posited that absence is itself a form of presence—a figure that emerges from the ground of our everyday experience. As Perls, Hefferline, and Goodman (1951) argued, the human mind is designed to organize experience into coherent wholes, and this organization includes the recognition of absence as something that shapes our emotional and perceptual worlds.

Absence, in Gestalt terms, is not something purely passive or negative; it is something that appears, shifting between background and foreground as we interact with it. A friend who stops calling, a partner who seems emotionally distant, or even the fading of a dream all come to the forefront of our awareness, becoming the dominant “figure” in our experience. This shift from the unnoticed background to the active foreground allows us to gain insight into how absence impacts our emotional landscape. Yontef (1993) described this phenomenon as the interplay between figure and ground—absence disrupts the habitual flow of experience and forces us to confront the emotional currents that lie beneath the surface.

In therapy, becoming aware of absence and its emotional significance is pivotal. Gestalt therapy helps clients recognize what has emerged from the background of their lives, offering them an opportunity to transform absence into a catalyst for personal growth.

 

II. Absence in Literature and Culture

Absence permeates literature, art, and culture, often providing a window into the human condition. Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar conveys the suffocating experience of emotional absence, as Esther Greenwood describes feeling “in a vacuum, floating, with no one to anchor me.” This metaphor of floating in a void captures the emotional experience of absence—not as an empty space, but as an overwhelming presence that disrupts our sense of self.

Similarly, in Audrey Niffenegger’s The Time Traveler’s Wife, Clare’s longing for her husband—who is physically absent due to the unpredictability of his time travel—reveals how absence becomes filled with memory, anticipation, and sorrow. The longing for what was or could have been reflects a deeper emotional truth: absence is never neutral. It is a site of emotional resonance, filled with potential meaning, hope, and loss.

In Gabriel García Márquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude, the theme of absence runs like a thread through the entire Buendía family saga. The absence of the past, the absence of communication, and the absence of connection all echo through the lives of the characters. A powerful example occurs when the novel’s protagonist, José Arcadio Buendía, becomes obsessed with a pursuit of knowledge that increasingly isolates him from his family and the world. His withdrawal symbolizes an emotional absence that reverberates throughout the novel: “He had become a stranger to the world, an isolated man, with only the distant echo of his own thoughts.”

The repeated cycle of absence in One Hundred Years of Solitude reflects not only the gaps between individuals but also the haunting persistence of what is not present. The isolation and emotional absences of the Buendía family lead to their eventual downfall, highlighting how absence can compound over generations, gradually transforming from a personal absence into a cultural and historical void. As García Márquez writes:

“In that macabre night, she [Remedios the Beauty] had disappeared, a victim of the inescapable absence of all things…She vanished like the silence of a well.”

Márquez’s writing demonstrates that absence is not merely a temporary gap, but a space filled with emotional and existential weight. The novel captures how absence intertwines with memory, fate, and time, reflecting a psychological and philosophical depth.

The cultural interpretations of absence also vary, yet they consistently reveal the emotional impact of what is not present. In Japanese literature, themes of impermanence and the poignancy of lost moments are explored as intrinsic aspects of the human journey. Similarly, in Russian and Latin American literary traditions, absence is often intertwined with themes of existential crisis, political loss, or cultural dislocation. These cultural narratives of absence resonate with psychological theories of loss and identity, where absence signals a rupture in the self that requires healing and meaning-making.

III. Absence and Attachment: The Emotional Brain

James F. Panskepp’s research on the emotional brain further deepens our understanding of absence by showing that it is not just an abstract psychological experience but a biological reality rooted in our emotional brain. Panskepp (1998) identified emotional circuits in the brain that are directly tied to attachment and separation. The separation distress system—which governs our response to the absence of loved ones—activates deep emotional pathways, triggering feelings of loneliness, longing, and sorrow.

Absence, in this sense, is not simply the experience of something missing, but an emotional and physiological response that taps into our fundamental need for connection. When attachment bonds are disrupted, whether through physical loss, emotional neglect, or existential separation, the brain’s separation distress system is activated, and we feel the absence not only in our minds but also in our bodies. This neurobiological understanding of absence emphasizes its deep emotional impact, which can contribute to feelings of grief, anxiety, and depression.

Panskepp’s insights into the neurobiological underpinnings of absence provide therapists with a framework for understanding the profound emotional weight of loss and separation. In clinical settings, recognizing the biological response to absence allows for more compassionate and attuned interventions, as therapists are able to work with both the emotional and physiological aspects of absence.

IV. The Phenomenology of Absence: Husserl and Merleau-Ponty

From a philosophical perspective, absence also plays a crucial role in how we experience the world. Edmund Husserl’s phenomenology offers a lens through which we can examine the subjective experience of absence. For Husserl (1973), absence is not simply the opposite of presence, but a mode of experience that is deeply embedded in the way we perceive the world. Husserl contended that absence, as a non-presence, is a necessary counterpart to presence, and it is through our awareness of what is not present that we come to understand what is. The intentionality of consciousness, for Husserl, means that even in the absence of an object, we remain aware of its potentiality, and this awareness shapes our experience.

Maurice Merleau-Ponty (1962), building on Husserl’s ideas, emphasized the embodied nature of absence. For Merleau-Ponty, absence is not only a mental concept but is also experienced in and through the body. The loss of a loved one, the disappearance of a familiar object, or even the fading of a sensation all involve embodied experiences of absence that affect our perception and interaction with the world. The lived body, as Merleau-Ponty suggests, is always engaged in a dynamic process of becoming, and absence plays a role in shaping that process. Through absence, we are confronted with the fragility and transience of our existence, which invites us to reflect on the meaning we attach to what is missing.

V. Gestalt Therapy and the Exploration of Absence

In Gestalt therapy, the exploration of absence becomes a central therapeutic tool. By becoming aware of what is missing—whether it is emotional connection, meaning, or closure—clients are able to explore the underlying emotional currents that have been shaped by these absences. This process is rooted in the idea of awareness, which is the cornerstone of Gestalt therapy. Through awareness, clients are invited to recognize how absence has shaped their emotional lives, and to reclaim the parts of themselves that have been lost or neglected.

Gestalt therapy helps individuals confront and express the emotional voids in their lives, allowing for personal growth and self-actualization. This process is not about “filling the gap” but about understanding the significance of absence and integrating it into one’s sense of self. By confronting absence, individuals are given the opportunity to redefine their emotional landscapes and create new meanings from the spaces once filled with emptiness.

VI. Understanding Absence Across Disciplines: A Holistic Approach to Healing

The exploration of absence through various fields—psychology, neuroscience, philosophy, literature, and culture—highlights its multifaceted nature. Absence is not only a psychological phenomenon but is also deeply embedded in the body, the brain, and the world around us. For therapists, understanding absence from an interdisciplinary standpoint enhances their ability to work with clients. It allows them to consider not only the emotional and cognitive aspects of absence but also the physiological and existential dimensions that influence how clients experience and respond to loss.

Absence, understood through the lens of physics, complexity theory, and even chemistry, shows that emptiness is not merely a vacuum, but an active and dynamic force that shapes our interactions, our relationships, and our sense of self. In therapeutic settings, recognizing the broader implications of absence—whether through the emotional brain’s response to separation, the philosophical insights into non-presence, or the cultural narratives of loss—can support clients in gaining a deeper understanding of their own emotional experiences.

Through this integrated approach, therapists are better equipped to help clients process their absences in ways that promote healing and self-discovery, allowing for transformation and growth even in the face of loss.

 

VII. Conclusion: The Power of Absence

Absence, in all its forms, challenges us to confront the spaces in our lives that are defined by what is missing. Whether through the Gestalt shift from figure to ground, the emotional brain’s response to separation, or the philosophical reflections of Husserl and Merleau-Ponty, absence reveals itself as a force that shapes both our perception of the world and our emotional reality. It is a presence in disguise—a shadow that illuminates the contours of what we long for, what we have lost, and who we are.

In therapy, understanding absence as an emotional, physiological, and existential experience opens the door for healing. By embracing absence, we do not simply seek to fill the void but to explore and integrate its emotional meaning. Through awareness and self-reflection, absence becomes not a place of emptiness, but a space of potential—a fertile ground where personal growth and transformation can take root.

 

References

  • Bowlby, J. (1988). A Secure Base: Parent-Child Attachment and Healthy Human Development. Routledge.
  • Frankl, V. E. (1984). Man’s Search for Meaning. Beacon Press.
  • García Márquez, G. (1967). One Hundred Years of Solitude. Harper & Row.
  • Hazan, C., & Shaver, P. R. (1987). Romantic love conceptualized as an attachment process. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 52(3), 511-524.
  • Husserl, E. (1973). Experience and Judgment: Investigations in a Phenomenological Philosophy. Northwestern University Press.
  • Kabat-Zinn, J. (1990). Full Catastrophe Living: Using the Wisdom of Your Body and Mind to Face Stress, Pain, and Illness. Delta.
  • Merleau-Ponty, M. (1962). Phenomenology of Perception. Routledge.
  • Mikulincer, M., & Shaver, P. R. (2007). Attachment in Adulthood: Structure, Dynamics, and Change. Guilford Press.
  • Panskepp, J. F. (1998). Affective Neuroscience: The Foundations of Human and Animal Emotions. Oxford University Press.
  • Perls, F., Hefferline, R. F., & Goodman, P. (1951). Gestalt Therapy: Excitement and Growth in the Human Personality. Julian Press.
  • Snyder, C. R. (2008). Handbook of Hope: Theory, Measures, and Applications. Elsevier.
  • Yontef, G. M. (1993). Awareness, Dialogue, and Process: Essays on Gestalt Therapy. The Gestalt Journal Press.

 

Please note that this blog has been written with the support of AI.

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Why is fear so frightening?

Fear is the shadow that flickers just beyond the candle’s reach, ancient and intimate, threading through the marrow of every human soul. It is not merely an emotion—it is a force, a whisper from our deepest past that echoes through the present. Born in the oldest part of the brain, it speaks in the language of instinct, not reason. A sudden noise, a silent stare, the unknown—all summon its presence. And once summoned, fear floods the body with a storm of urgency: heart pounding, breath tight, muscles ready to flee or fight, even if there’s nowhere to run.

What makes fear so terrifying is not just the threat it signals, but the way it transforms the world. It bends time, shrinks reason, and distorts reality. A shadow becomes a predator, a silence becomes judgment, a glance becomes condemnation. Fear is frightening because it doesn’t just visit us—it inhabits us. It wears our skin, thinks with our mind, and for a while, it becomes us. In fear’s grip, we are reminded of how fragile we are, how easily undone.

At its core, fear reveals our vulnerability. It uncovers the soft, undefended places: our longing to belong, our need for love, our fear of loss, of pain, of being forgotten. It isolates us, often silently, as we build walls to protect what we fear others might see: our trembling, our doubt, our humanity.

Yet fear is also a teacher. In its cold gaze, we see what we cherish most. It forces us to ask hard questions—about who we are, what matters, and what we’re willing to risk. And though it may arrive uninvited and stay too long, fear also opens the door to courage—not in its absence, but in its presence.

Fear, though dark and often unwelcome, carries within it a paradox—it is not only a signal of danger but also an invitation to grow. To feel fear is to be human, but to face it, even trembling, is the beginning of transformation. In its rawest form, fear says: this matters. And in that message lies a hidden power.

Resilience is not born from a life without fear, but from walking through fear and emerging changed. The brave are not those who feel no fear, but those who choose to act despite it. Each time we confront what terrifies us—whether it’s a difficult truth, a looming decision, or the risk of heartbreak—we build a kind of emotional muscle. Our boundaries expand. Our confidence deepens. We learn that we are not as fragile as fear would have us believe.

This alchemy—turning fear into strength—begins with awareness. When we name our fear, we loosen its grip. When we examine it gently, without judgment, we see that much of it is built from stories: imagined outcomes, past wounds, unspoken expectations. And stories, once seen clearly, can be rewritten.

Courage does not shout. Often, it is a quiet voice that says: I will try again tomorrow. It’s the moment you speak your truth, even with shaking hands. The day you get out of bed despite the weight of anxiety. The hour you reach for help, or offer it. These small acts of bravery accumulate, creating a foundation stronger than fear itself.

In the end, fear may always walk beside us—but it does not have to lead. When we befriend it, listen to it, and learn from it, we begin to see fear not as the enemy, but as a companion on the road to becoming whole.

Please note that this blog has been written with the support of AI.