Loneliness gets to some more than others. But why it hangs on isn't always apparent when read by traditional medical eyes. In my medical practice and workshops I've been struck by how many sensitive, empathic people who I call "emotional empaths" come to me, lonely, wanting a romantic partner, yet remaining single for years. Or else they're in relationships but feel constantly fatigued and overwhelmed. The reason isn't simply that "there aren't enough emotionally available people ‘out there,'" nor is their burnout"neurotic." Personally and professionally, I've discovered that something more is going on.
Emotional empaths are a species unto themselves. Whereas others may thrive on the togetherness of being a couple, for empaths like me, too much togetherness can be difficult, may cause us to bolt. Why? We tend to intuit and absorb our partner's energy, and become overloaded, anxious, or exhausted when we don't have time to decompress in our own space. We're super-responders; our sensory experience of relationship is the equivalent of feeling objects with fifty fingers instead of five. Energetically sensitive people unknowingly avoid romantic partnership because deep down they're afraid of getting engulfed. Or else, they feel engulfed when coupled, a nerve-wracking, constrictive way to live. If this isn't understood, empaths can stay perpetually lonely; we want companionship, but, paradoxically, it doesn't feel safe.
For emotional empaths to be at ease in a relationship, the traditional paradigm for coupling must be redefined. Most of all, this means asserting your personal space needs--the physical and time limits you set with someone so you don't feel they're on top of you. Empaths can't fully experience emotional freedom with another until they do this. Your space needs can vary with your situation, upbringing, and culture. My ideal distance to keep in public is at least an arm's length. In doctors' waiting rooms I'll pile my purse and folders on the seats beside me to keep others away. With friends it's about half that. With a mate it's variable. Sometimes it's rapture being wrapped in his arms; later I may need to be in a room of my own, shut away. All of us have an invisible energetic border that sets a comfort level. Identifying and communicating yours will prevent you from being bled dry by others. Then intimacy can flourish, even if you've felt suffocated before.
