When Love Is Real—You Make Love Without Touch

How many times does a relationship survive not because two people stayed, but because they chose to understand each other again and again? When everything feels uncertain, what does intimacy look like when no one is watching?

For many, intimacy is still narrowly imagined as something that happens behind closed doors—skin to skin, in silence, in secrecy. It is often equated with sexual relations, assumed to be proven through physical closeness alone. But what if intimacy, in its truest sense, begins long before that? What if it is not something you do, but something you allow—to be seen, known, and held without performance?

Psychologists and relationship practitioners describe intimacy as something far more internal. In therapeutic language, intimacy is often explained through the concept of “into-me-see,” a term used to describe emotional vulnerability: the willingness to let another person truly see one’s inner world. According to Self Space Seattle, a psychology and therapy practice, intimacy is a continuous process built through trust and openness.

Brazilian artist Samantha da Silva wrote in her blog, The Art of Intimacy: Into-Me-See, which explores the concept of into-me-see, a play on words emphasizing true intimacy. She describes it as a deep connection “where individuals allow each other to see into their innermost thoughts, feelings, and vulnerabilities.” This kind of intimacy transcends superficial interactions and nurturestrust, openness, and understanding.

Artwork by Samantha Da Silva from her blog “The Art of Intimacy: Into-Me-See,” exploring emotional vulnerability and connection beyond physical expression.

In relationships, Da Silva explains, into-me-see can manifest through honest communication, emotional sharing, and the willingness to be vulnerable with one another, highlighting the importance of being fully present and engaged. Her artistic and conceptual framing provides a lens to understand intimacy beyond performance, words, or physical closeness.

Eli and Beng, a queer women-loving-women (WLW) couple, shared in an interview with The Communicator, an understanding of intimacy that resonates deeply as their relationship is grounded in care rather than spectacle.

For Eli, intimacy carries warmth and intention—“the heat of love,” as she puts it—found in moments when love and care are actively shown. Beng, on the other hand, describes it as “being accepted and known without putting on a show,” where barriers are lowered, and tenderness, doubts, and quiet thoughts can exist freely. Together, their definitions mirror the into-me-see idea: intimacy as access, not performance.

In their everyday lives, intimacy is built through small, often unnoticed moments. Eli feels loved through acts of service, while Beng experiences it in being truly listened to. These simple gestures quietly communicate care, trust, and connection, forming the foundation of their bond.

Emotional vulnerability is central to how they relate. They make it a point to share thoughts openly and rely on each other for reassurance, especially during stressful moments. In these shared spaces of honesty and support, intimacy grows quietly, without needing to be proven or performed.

When asked to define intimacy, Eli describes it as “future plans, assurance, and making everything feel positively consistent,” while Beng emphasizes emotional safety. Both wish people understood that intimacy without physical affection is not secondary; it is a foundational connection built through trust, consistency, and being genuinely known.

What Eli and Beng describe is a kind of intimacy that feels familiar, almost learned. It resembles the safety we seek as children, the reassurance we offer as adults, and the understanding we hope to receive simply as human beings.

Their story invites us to look beyond romantic definitions and ask how intimacy shows up in our own lives—through presence, trust, and the quiet act of choosing to stay.

Thus, if intimacy were no longer measured by touch, what would love look like?

Would it survive in silence, in care, in staying present when things become difficult?

Sometimes, intimacy isn’t taking your clothes off.

Sometimes, it is choosing to be seen—and choosing to stay.

In the end, intimacy finds its truest home in the constancy of ordinary, gentle moments, in the subtle acts that speak louder than words can ever convey.

Article: Selene Ashlee Vitor

Graphics: Nicole Beverly Maniego