Oh no, not another. A close friend of mine just told me that her boyfriend broke up with her. She said, “I feel used.” Sadly, she has a history of intimate, short-term relationships that end up with the guy walking out.

What is a bit perplexing is that she is fun, talented, sexy and generous to a fault. More perplexing is how many amazing people I know who hope for long-term romantic relationships, yet watch them fade away all too quickly.

My friend says she needs to get back to “her life.” What? Does she mean she left her life at the doorstep instead of taking it with her through the hurdles of romance? I listened as she told me she had given up her art — her absolute passion that excited her and made her feel alive. Perhaps she thought it was a fair trade for another type of passion.

“What,” I shouted, “you can’t have both?” There was simply not enough time she explained. Quietly I said, “Next time, please make time.”

Intimacy — an interesting word. Often associated with sexual intimacy, it can also be defined as close personal friends, private thoughts and cherished moments. It is sought after, longed for and can cause anxiety when it is completely missing from someone’s life.

Perhaps that is why we seek it out so desperately at times. Role models for teens, such as Taylor Swift and her eclectic and greedy consumption of “boy flavor of the month,” is hardly a good example of selective dating.

The TV show The Bachelor completely mesmerizes my 37-year-old daughter. I’ve mentioned to her that whenever a camera is rolling for millions of viewers, reality gets lost in translation. She understands but just the same glues herself to the TV and watches the soapy romantic drama play out each week.

In our rush for intimacy, it’s easy to fall in love and become lost in the glamour and excitement of a storybook wedding. It’s also easy to forget to get to know the person we’re marrying. And in a world of speed dating, wanting the ideal sometimes becomes more important than wanting the person.

The word intimacy comes from the Latin root intimum, which means our interiority, our innermost core. That is where our authentic self lives, encompassing our strengths and weaknesses, our difficult and remarkable characteristics.

To share from that core takes courage and requires vulnerability, openness, honesty and trust. When two people have that courage, they affirm each other rather than judge. They don’t hide behind a mask of perfection or impose impossible standards on each other. They move forward in life with open eyes and a hopeful heart, supporting each other through life’s ups and downs.

Intimacy — what a beautiful word and concept except that we glide over it because it scares us to be authentic, to be true to ourselves and honest with another. It’s too risky as we might lose what we have. So we conveniently fall under the spell of “all is OK” while burying our truth, deceiving ourselves and ignoring red lights.

It is said that if we knew each other’s story, there could be no wars. Certainly there would be less criticism and more respect. To honor another’s personal journey is at the heart of intimacy. To fall in love at that level becomes less about changing another and more about deepening the relationship.

The world we live in today is complex, demanding and challenging. The problems confronting us seem to outweigh the solutions. The opportunity to join forces and work together is greater than ever before, but it requires tremendous strength of character to drop our well-constructed façades in order to build genuine relationships based on trust.

Intimacy can heal the world. However, until the day arrives when enough believe that, we can continue to slip and slide on the surface of life putting our faith in storybook weddings, Prince Charmings and happily ever afters.

— Susan Ann Darley is a creativity coach and business writer who works with entrepreneurs and artists from all disciplines to build, manage and market their careers. Click here for more information, or contact her at susan@mindsetmanagement.net or 805.845.3036. Click here to read previous columns. The opinions expressed are her own.