Curious and Slightly Feral

Dear Enchantress,

I’m writing to you from the land of “emotionally evolved but still very confused.” I’ve done the workshops. I’ve read the books. I can name my attachment style, regulate my nervous system, and make excellent eye contact while talking about vulnerability. In theory, I am an intimacy goddess.

I still end up lying in bed next to someone thinking, why does this feel like we’re both wearing invisible armor?

I crave intimacy that feels electric and honest, the kind where people say the dangerous things out loud. I want curiosity, laughter, a little mischief. But so many encounters feel polite, performative, or quietly terrified.

Sometimes I wonder if being deeply aware has ruined my ability to just relax into connection. I can sense the hesitation, the stories, the subtle power plays. And then I’m there, half enchantress, half anthropologist, observing the whole mating ritual like it’s a nature documentary. Is real intimacy supposed to feel this rare?

How do you stay open, playful, and a little wild in a world where so many people are guarded or afraid of desire?

Signed,

Curious… and slightly feral

Dear Curious (and Delightfully Feral),

First, let me reassure you: you are not broken, and you have not ruined intimacy by becoming self-aware. What you are experiencing is what happens when someone becomes conscious inside a culture that often performs connection rather than inhabits it.

You’ve done the workshops. You’ve read the books. You can name your attachment style and regulate your nervous system. Congratulations, you have upgraded your emotional operating system. The only small side effect is that you can now see the invisible choreography most people are dancing without realizing it.

You notice the armor.

You notice the hesitation.

You notice the micro-moments where desire almost steps forward and then politely sits back down again.

This can make you feel like exactly what you described: half enchantress, half anthropologist, observing the strange mating rituals of a species that desperately wants intimacy but has been trained to approach it like a business negotiation.

And here is the slightly inconvenient truth: real intimacy is rare, and it’s to be created, and you can geek out on it, like science, as opposed to a fairy tale or Hollywood movie. I hear your inner teenager’s frustration.

It’s not because people don’t want it. Almost everyone does. But real intimacy requires something that most of us were never taught to practice — the willingness to risk being seen wanting.

Wanting is vulnerable. Wanting is messy. Wanting makes people feel exposed.

So, instead, we perform. We flirt safely. We talk about vulnerability rather than actually risking it. We stay charming, clever, polite, and mildly armored, and this is even for the most self-actualized as well. It’s old habits, so find yourself human here.

Now, here is where the enchantress comes in.

An enchantress does not wait for a room full of people to suddenly become brave. She doesn’t demand that the world transform before she relaxes into her aliveness. She simply becomes the temperature shift in the room.

She asks the mischievous question.
She says the slightly dangerous truth.

She laughs when something gets awkward instead of rushing to smooth it over.

Not to shock people. Not to dominate the room. But to remind everyone that connection can be playful, curious, and alive rather than tense and strategic.

You don’t need to stop noticing the dynamics around you. Your awareness is a gift. The trick is not letting awareness turn into analysis paralysis. Curiosity is far more seductive than observation.

So, the next time you find yourself lying beside someone who feels like they’re wearing invisible armor, try a little enchantment. Ask something unexpected. Admit a strange thought. Share a desire with a wink instead of a dissertation.

Sometimes the armor melts. Sometimes it doesn’t.

But either way, you remain something rare: a person who is both awake and willing to play.

And that, dear Curious, is far more powerful than perfect intimacy. Also, I’m co-hosting an event on March 28 called The Intimacy Experiment! This is perfect for you; it’s NOT a dating event. you can come with a friend, a partner, by yourself or with a lover, or even someone you wish to be a lover! I hope to see you there!

To ask Shane a question or to find out about her upcoming events email her at love@enchantedembodiment.com