Quenching My Insatiable Thirst For Intimacy

How my lifelong desire to have an identical twin led me to God

I always wanted an identical twin, and I’ve never met one person with this same peculiar wish. My mom, along with others, was perplexed at this atypical longing of mine.

Today, I’m still puzzled by my desire for twinship. Did I have a twin in utero that didn’t survive? — Maybe. But I remember my insistence that the twin must be identical. And I wonder why —

Perhaps it was my way of communicating a desire to be heard, seen, and known. But it was more than that — in truth, my ultimate aim was to achieve an all-encompassing and eternal connection to another. My five-year-old self believed that I would be known entirely and never be alone if I had an identical me. Was I looking for a soul mate at such a young age?

Or maybe I just wanted my umbilical cord intact, to continue the experience of ceaseless symbiosis that was so rudely interrupted at birth. This theory may not be that farfetched if you consider a baby’s birth:

While most of us are in awe of the new gift of life, newborns experience an unwelcoming blast of alien air for the very first time. They respond with bodily quakes and release a piercing scream of angst while flailing their helpless little limbs. The grief of losing their warm cocooned home is on full display.

Parents try to mimic the safety and security of the first nest. But not even ideal parents can replicate or compare to the perfect union felt in the womb.

We are stardust; we are golden, we are billion-year-old carbon, And we got to get ourselves back to the garden. Joni Mitchell

Desiring an identical twin at the age of five might sound cute and quirky, but this dire yearning has played havoc in my life. I experience the elusive sense that something is missing in all my relationships— And can never put words to this gnawing sense of — something’s eschew or not quite enough.

Enough of what? I wish I knew. I have spent most of my life searching for someone who could provide that obscure piece of my puzzle and cure this “not quite right” feeling. A twin may not be the solution, but at least she would be someone — who gets me.

Because I am aware of my being’s separateness, I thought the meaning of intimacy was a perpetual state of oneness. So perceiving it as a quest, I missed the joy experienced in the brief and passing moments that slowly build a relationship. The idea that intimacy and connection might be intertwined and grow with time had not occurred to me. And I made the dreadful mistake of believing that only a twin or partner could complete me — in every way — for eternity.

Sadly, many gifts I received were never enough, including attention, freedom, compassion, empathy, sympathy, romance, gifts. And in those few rare moments when I experienced a sense of oneness with another, I wanted it to last forever — a continual dose of bliss, which no gift or gesture could surpass.

It’s not surprising that many in my life were baffled, hurt, and exhausted attempting to figure out and fulfill my wants or needs —a task impossible to meet on this earthly plane. I came to view myself as a needy and hopeless case.

My life has been a series of incomplete stories— consisting of the worn-out theme: Why am I so unhappy? What is wrong with me?

Whatever the cause of my somewhat damaged and dismal existence, over the course of years, a painful awareness crystallized:

I have spent my life yearning for a human savior and looking for love in all the wrong places.

Mystics of many religions claim— the answer lies within.

And, finally, late in life, I understood.

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Matthew 6:21 (NIV)

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. Matthew 7:7 (NIV)

Being raised in an agnostic home, we never owned a Bible or talked about Jesus. I felt as though I had betrayed my logic-loving family when I first read the gospels at age fifty-five. It was there I discovered my long-lost spiritual cord of connection.

Many self-help books offer the advice to learn to love yourself, which didn’t work for me — I still felt incomplete. Intimacy requires more than one — a subject and object. For me, attempting a relationship with my higher self, the universe, or inner light had never eased my yearning for a personal partner, savior, forever friend, teacher, guide, and yes, lover.

I’m not ashamed to admit I need a personal God. Maybe others can find their inner truth without a friend from another realm — But I need a Savior — primarily to end my toxic habit of making others or myself the center of the universe.

I have a maturing love for my beloved whispering Christ. It all started on our first date over ten years ago. But I don’t talk about it much — it’s private — like secrets in a marriage.

Each morning, I pour a fresh cup of coffee and sit quietly with these powerful and peaceful words:

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me, you can do nothing. John 15:5 (NIV)

I now believe this unquenchable desire for an identical twin to provide a perfect union was the beginning of my spiritual path: To seek and find the eternal mystery of love.

And I know this to be true— we are all entirely and deeply loved.

A fun twist to my story — In 1985, I gave birth to identical twin girls. No joke! Either I subconsciously manifested them, or God loves a good story. Either way, I was doubly blessed. And in case you were wondering — they are as different as night and day.

Thanks for taking the time to read and reflect on my story.

If you would like to read more of my personal stories, you can begin here: