Have you ever noticed how much of our lives is built around the idea that we need someone in order to feel alive? That there is this “other” who is supposed to activate us, awaken us, fill us, confirm that we are okay. Well, I have! I feel it all the time! It is due to my design and I can not escape this! Knowing it and not listening to those "voices" are two different ways to live. 

And we live inside that idea that we "need someone in order to feel alive" without even questioning it. Until one day we find ourselves alone. 

Sometimes it comes from loss, and sometimes it doesn’t. And when it doesn’t, something shifts… you’re no longer reacting, you’re choosing. Truly choosing. The voices don’t disappear. They’re still there, whispering, “try one more time, maybe now they’ll see you,” or “what if this time it’s real?” But the choice no longer lives in those voices. It lives in the body. And even when the mind tightens with the fear of missing out or loosing, something deeper keeps moving inside... and it is steady! "My eyes may be afraid… but my hands still move forward." as we say back home. 

And something subtle begins to unfold. At first, the familiar anxiety rises. Where is the one who brings warmth, touch, reflection? The system reaches outward, almost automatically.

And then… silence. In that silence, something unexpected appears. You start to feel yourself. Not as a lack, not as someone waiting, but as something already whole. I’m okay. More than okay… I’m actually in harmony with this world. There is less fighting with life, less demanding that it delivers what the mind insists on having. The mind still wants, of course. It keeps offering desires, stories, urgencies. And I let it. I let it want, I let it speak, I even let it get upset. But I no longer confuse what it wants with what is truly needed. Because what “we” think "we" want is not always aligned with what serves "us" as a whole being. 

I felt this in a very physical way. When I consciously stepped into a kind of abstinence from anything physical with a man, when I removed it from my everyday reality, something inside me stopped scattering. I could actually feel my energy returning (even though my mind was whispering its own horror stories). Back into my body, back into my boundaries, back into a contained, held space. It was no longer leaking through waiting, through reacting, through that constant in-between… through those cycles of drama and quiet suffering. It took everything in me to stay with that discomfort, to not run back into what felt familiar (and familiar for my mind was all that uncomfortable comfort). Only now do I understand why. More than understand… I feel the difference. And it’s undeniable. At some point, I had to make a clear decision to stop feeding those patterns, to stop obeying those inner programs that kept pulling me back. Not by fighting them, but by no longer giving them authority over my actions.

Not that long ago I repeated one practice called "test on your relationship with yourself". A year ago I would start crying... It is a simple practice. Looking into my own eyes. Touching myself the way you would want to be touched by a lover. Kissing my own hands as if I were the beloved... kissing your hands with hunger... Saying words to myself that I would normally wait to hear from someone else. And unexpectedly, it didn’t feel strange. It felt… good. Alive. Real. Without tension, without trying to perform, without that inner question of “am I enough?” 

And this is where something becomes clear that is rarely spoken about honestly. The nervous system does not operate in categories like “man” or “no man.” It operates in categories of safety, touch, stimulation, regulation. Yes, sexual contact, with a partner or alone,  activates the same reward systems. The body responds to stimulus, not to a social construct. But something else matters even more. 

Oxytocin, so often romanticized as the “love hormone,” is far more stable when it is linked to a sense of safety. To simple physical contact without threat. To closeness, warmth, presence. And this is where things become very real and practical, because for a woman, “threat” is not always something obvious. It is not only danger in the physical sense. Very often, it is inconsistency. Emotional or physical or psychological swings. Being pulled closer and then pushed away or even deleted from someone's life. Not being chosen… over and over again... and then almost being chosen again... That kind of dynamic exhausts the nervous system. The body starts living in constant hypervigilance, in a low-grade stress that never fully resolves. And over time, it turns into something even deeper...  a silent effort to prove your worth... To be enough.... To  be seen.... to finally be the one who is chosen. But a body in that state cannot fully open. It cannot relax into TRUE pleasure (I am discovering more layers of it now), into softness, into trust. Because it is too busy scanning, adapting, surviving. 

And this is why safety matters more than the role of a partner. Because oxytocin rises not where there is intensity, but where there is steadiness. Where there is no need to "brace for impact!"

Sometimes, that safety comes in the simplest forms. I notice it when I am with my doggy. When I touch her and she is looking straight into my eyes with so much tenderness... something in me softens immediately. There is warmth, tenderness, a quiet affection that does not ask anything in return. And what’s interesting… I can feel attachment forming there too. Not because she plays a “role,” but because the body recognizes safety, predictability, and true connection. That dog loves me no matter what. She can't fake it. 

The nervous system does not care about titles, roles, promises that are said in words, promises of guarantees... It responds to what is real... and the body knows. Always knows! 

And this is where a question appears that is not easy to ask. Is the person next to you a source of that safety? Or have relationships themselves become a place of chronic tention? Because when there is chronic stress in the system, the body does not open. Cortisol blocks access to real pleasure. The system shifts into survival mode. And you can be in a relationship, have sex, and still feel empty. I imagine it shows up a bit differently for men, but even there, physical sensation may still be present on a purely mechanical level (orgasm after reteated smitulation), while deeper, full-body pleasure remains out of reach.

During perimenopause, this becomes even more visible. Hormones shift. Estrogen no longer buffers stress the way it used to. The system becomes more sensitive and... more honest. What you once could tolerate begins to feel like overload. And this is where a woman arrives at a point of choice. She either begins to reorganize her life around this new sensitivity: through the body, through movement, through rest, through safe forms of contact. Or she tries to hold onto the old model: “I need a man,” increasing internal pressure and, as a result, stress. And very often, during this same period, the body begins to change. Weight gain appears, something many women immediately try to fix, to correct, to reverse. But if you look deeper, it becomes clear that this is not just about age or food or diet or more workouts... Old patterns of “endure,” “push through,” “force it” continue to operate in the psyche, and a woman begins to override herself in an attempt to maintain a previous version of her life, her role and her attractiveness in that role, her masks. To support all of it takes a lot of efforts! And the body responds. Weight can become not a mistake, but a form of protection. A way to reduce the intensity of external attention, to become less exposed to evaluation, expectations, and the very dynamic she once had to participate in. As if the body is saying: if you don’t stop, I will create the boundary for you. I will reduce the pressure from the outside. I WILL STOP YOU from my destruction! And in this place, it matters not to go to war with yourself, but to listen to what exactly you are being protected from. Because sometimes this is not about “losing weight.” Sometimes it is about no longer living the way you used to. How do I know? I used to run like a maniac, injuring myself... I used to jump on the mini trampolin until my hips hurt... I don't do any of it anymore... I allowed my body just to be... when it wants to move - it moves (it prefers dancing!), when it wants to sleep - it sleeps, when it wants to watch romantic comedies - it watches that while sewing a dress... when it wants to eat something particular - it eats. 

And then something becomes clear. This was never about a man as a function! If there is a person in your life with whom you feel safety, respect, a living connection - that amplifies you! But if that is not there, you do not become empty. You remain with a system that knows how to regulate itself. Through the body. Through touch. Through conscious sexuality. Through choosing to be around those with whom there is real warmth and safety. And yes, sometimes that may not be a person. 

The most uncomfortable truth here is that a woman can create a stable sense of fulfillment within herself far more reliably than in unstable connections that only sound very deep… but never actually choose her.  And this is where dependency dissolves. Not desire. Not interest. But dependency! You no longer look for someone in order to survive. You start choosing the one with whom you become better. And if that person is not there, you do not collapse! You remain with yourself.

And maybe, for the first time in your life, you genuinely enjoy who you are. You simply stop proving your worth to those who will never appreciate you anyway. why bother?