To me, being needed is like what catnip is to cats—I go just as loopy for it, but without the visible crazy. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been a sucker for a sad story; a moth to the flame, where the flame is a person needing my support. Couple this with control and we’ve upgraded catnip to crack.
A Love That Leaked
I could look into the eyes of my partner and almost feel like I was bleeding into their soul. I could lay next to them in bed and literally become an extension of their being. At times, that is how connected I felt to others. I felt alive because our connection felt deep. I needed them as much as they needed me; a beautiful symbiosis of shared human connection. I would hold them so tightly, so closely, in the silent hope that what I was feeling would never fade. After all, this is connection, right? It’s what we are all programmed to seek. That one person to share life with. A person with whom to share our darkest and deepest selves; to be seen and heard and loved despite our many flaws.
To me, connection was to be alive. It drip-fed a confidence that I could safely navigate life. One way for me to check the connection was still alive was by measuring how much I was needed. Because if I’m not needed, then what use do I have? And if I am useless, then how are we connected?
The Echo That Never Sleeps
But here’s the thing, and it winded me pretty bad when I truly embraced it—
connection is not need.
To you, this may sound like nothing—old news. Maybe you are consciously aware of this fact. I was, too. But just because we are conscious of something doesn’t stop us living it. I can be conscious of the fact refined sugar is bad for me, yet I continue to eat cookies from a deep seated, albeit minor sugar addiction. We may believe we don’t need to be needed, but underneath the surface of this awareness lies the truth—we all like to feel needed and we need others in return. But—
connection through need is addiction control.
Which begs the question: if what I feel with my partner(s) isn’t genuine connection, what does that mean for the relationship(s)?
That feeling in our heart, that high we get from feeling needed, or from needing others and having that met—a high that echos a childhood familiarity—that is what we mistake for connection, and sadly, all it does is perpetuate the addiction to the illusion of connection. For me, this addiction blended into the sexual intimacy I shared with others; if I wasn’t needed, I felt disconnected and thus could not have sex; I began to mistake being needed for emotional and sexual connection. This became so ingrained that it was, and still is, a pre-requisite for sexual intimacy—a pattern I am actively, and at times painfully, working through, asking myself questions like “If I wasn’t needed by this person, would I still be turned-on by them?”
So, after the addiction subsides, what’s left? What does genuine connection actually feel like?
The Moment My Philosophy Came Alive
Leaving this addiction brought deep grief; my bones felt lead-heavy. By delving deeper into my philosophy and facing some of my deepest truths, was I creating permanent disconnection from others? Had I broken my relational architecture for good? I felt isolated and scared.
Until I didn’t.
Everything I believe in and practice came together and brought with it a moment I will never forget. It was stunningly raw and honest; it was independent of others. Instead of the habitual desire to feel needed, I was met by a person who didn’t need me, in that moment, at all. Instead of needing this person to fill something lacking in me, I met them with wholeness, with my vulnerability and allowed myself to just be open because that is who I am—not what I needed to be to gain something. I lay next to them bathed in the safety I have created for myself, from the love that naturally resides within my being—a love not created by or placed in me by anybody else. In that moment, we were two very individual beings, with a very clear existential boundary—yet deeply connected through a shared experience of self-love, self-owned vulnerability and wholeness. What I was feeling was a moment of genuine connection and within this was a feeling I have never, ever felt;
Freedom whilst in connection.
Freedom from need, from ownership, from fear, from loss of self. I felt the expansive and free nature of love—not to be confused with the intense, often possessive, intoxicating feeling we mistake for love. And this? This feeling is attainable by all.
The Depth of Wholeness
I’m no different to anybody else, in that I am human. I have sought connection in ways that have perpetuated needless suffering for all involved. I once thought, not long ago, by bringing it all back to me—self-led living, self-owned emotions, radical self-owned vulnerability, radical acceptance—I was becoming avoidant of the connection I was seeking. What I realised, in the moment I shared earlier, was that in order to connect with others, I needed to do so from an absolute lack of need—I had to become a whole human being. A fact I have been aware of for many years, but embodying it is a different matter entirely.
We talk about being whole all the time. We appear to be doing all the things to become just that: therapy, courses, community. And they are great. Important even. Yet, just like true addicts, we continue to hide—from others, from ourselves—the substance(s) we are addicted to that keep us from our goal of wholeness and genuine connection; we hide these substances in hugs, when we say ‘I love you’, when we have sex, when we support others.
It’s not until we truly face, own and recover from our addiction—not just being consciously aware and still sneaking a hit—that we are able to feel the truth and depth of our wholeness. And we can only get there by being radically honest with ourselves and others. My addiction was to feel needed because, as a child, I learned that my usefulness meant love and connection. I now know the truth; I am love and I am connected in all moments of my life—because I am connected to the truth of who I am.
This doesn’t necessarily mean our existing relationships are doomed. Though once in recovery, they may end. And they might not.
Are you ready to step into recovery to find out? What are you willing to risk for the sake of genuine connection? For authenticity?
As always, my door is open. Reach out. Or not.
No judgement. No Shame.
