Unveiling the Essence of True Connection

Real and true connections/relationships are NOT built on perfection, but on trust, vulnerability, honesty and the willingness to grow together...I wish I learnt this earlier...

I've spent a lot of time wondering why I've never had any deep and real meaningful connections with anyone, and the more I reflect, the more I realized that there are many layers to this question, some more difficult to face than others.

At first, I thought it was simply a matter of timing or circumstances—life just didn't align in a way that allowed me to forge the kinds of bonds I longed for. But as I began to look inward, I started to see that the absence of deep connections was not just about external factors. It was about something within me, something I hadn't fully acknowledged or understood until now.

The truth is, part of me was afraid of what it would mean to truly connect with someone. Deep connections require vulnerability, and for a long time, I kept myself hidden behind walls of protection. I convinced myself that I was fine on my own, that I didn't need anyone else to feel complete. But that was a defense mechanism, a way to shield myself from the discomfort of being seen—of exposing the parts of me that I felt weren't enough, or worthy, or lovable. So I held people at arm's length, never letting anyone get too close, never giving anyone the chance to see the real me.

I feared rejection, the idea that if someone saw who I truly was, they might not stick around. This fear wasn't just about romantic relationships, but every relationship. I built a kind of emotional fortress around myself, and the harder I tried to protect my heart, the more isolated I became. I thought I was keeping myself safe, but in reality, I was distancing myself from the very thing I wanted most: real, genuine connection.

Another layer of this is the way I learned to cope with emotions. I grew up in an environment where emotional expression wasn't always encouraged. I learned to mask my feelings, to suppress them, and to keep them inside rather than share them openly. This was a survival tactic, but over time it became a habit, a way of operating in the world. It was easier to be “fine” than to acknowledge the complexity of my emotions. And when I couldn't express myself fully, I couldn't connect with others in a way that felt authentic. I became so accustomed to carrying my feelings alone that I didn't know how to share them with others, even when I wanted to.

In addition to my own emotional walls, there was a part of me that just didn't know how to create space for others. I think I often got caught up in the idea that connections had to be perfect or had to look a certain way. I wanted the kind of bond that was always harmonious, never messy, never challenging. ALWAYS PERFECT. I didn't realize that true connection isn't about perfection—it's about showing up, flaws and all, and allowing space for both growth and conflict. I didn't know how to navigate the messiness of relationships, and as a result, I often sabotaged connections before they could deepen.

I also came to understand that, in some ways, I hadn't allowed myself to be vulnerable enough to let others in. Vulnerability is the key to true intimacy, but it's also the scariest part. If you've been hurt before, it can feel like you're gambling with your heart every time you open up. I've often held back, telling myself that I didn't want to risk getting hurt again, but by doing so, I shut out the very thing that could heal me: real, unguarded connection with others.

I learnt that relationships requires a deeper kind of presence. It's about being there for someone when they need you most, even if you don't have the perfect solution or words of comfort to offer. It's about listening deeply, holding space for another person's emotions without trying to fix or change them. It's about honoring each other's growth, even when that means moving in different directions. There is a freedom in these connections, where both people can grow as individuals without the fear of being abandoned or misunderstood. You realise that love is not about possession, but about two people walking alongside each other, each carving their own path but always choosing to return to each other.

He taught me that love is not always grand declarations or sweeping gestures, but the quiet, everyday acts of care—checking in when someone is going through a tough time, offering support even when it's inconvenient, and showing up with a presence that speaks louder than words. It is built on a foundation of understanding and acceptance, not perfection. He has taught me that it's okay to not always have everything figured out, and that asking for help is a sign of strength, not weakness.

He taught me that deep and real relationships is about trust—trust that someone will be there for you when you need them most, trust that they will hold your heart gently even when it's broken, and trust that you can be imperfect and still be loved. It means having people in your life who remind you of who you are when you forget, who encourage you when you feel lost, and who challenge you when you need to grow. It's about the people who don't just tell you what you want to hear, but who tell you what you need to hear, even when it's difficult, because they have your best interest at heart.

He gave me a sense of belonging—not the kind that comes from fitting in, but the kind that comes from being seen and accepted by all that I am. There is a profound freedom in knowing that someone truly sees you—not just the version you present to the world, but the raw, unpolished, sometimes messy version.  I've learned the most about myself, about love, and about what it means to truly be connected to another through these years with him but I was too arrogant to acknowledge it.

I've learned that true and real connections are not about needing someone to complete you, but about two people coming together to share the journey of life. They are built on mutual growth, mutual care, and mutual respect. They are about being willing to go through the highs and lows of life together, and knowing that, no matter what, you will always find a way back to each other.

In essence, after alot of unlearning about relationship and relearning with my husband I am reminded that we are not meant to do this life alone. I learnt that true connection isn't about proximity or quantity, but about the depth and authenticity of the bond. And as I navigate the ebb and flow of life,  it took a long time but I realized that there's so much I need to work on and I am not even half way there...