There's a certain amount of innate intimacy in a group just because you have something you all agree on that's important and that you conspire to work towards. Most importantly, you're not living your life alone. There are other like-minded people around. There are other people interested in you and your life.
So groups can be fairly intimate. Some of that is over the sharing of 'porcelain', (kitchen & bathrooms) and the living rooms - you are just in each other's lives all the time. At the same time, there are also people who go for weeks on end without seeing other people. You are intimate with whom you are intimate with, the people who most share your interests, but it's not across the board. You can have all the privacy you want in our group, you are not forced to be intimate when you don't really feel like it. -- Cindy
I grew up in a solid New England family. We had dinner together every night, the beds were always made and clean clothes magically appeared in my closet every week. It was a good way to grow up; at the same time, it wasn't heavy on drama. Since I wasn't privy to any households that did have drama, I always wanted to know what was really going on with other people. Kind of like when people crowd around the friends of celebrities and ask, "What are they REALLY like?" I wanted to know, "What is everyone REALLY like?"
Living in a community, in my case specifically Morehouse is, for my money, the best way to know. You get to see your housemates fighting, being romantic, going through crises -- all the really juicy stuff. In fact, the moment I truly wanted to live in a Morehouse was when I went to visit one. As I walked in, a resident I knew was coming down the stairs, and as he rushed out, he yelled bloody murder at another resident who was at the top of the stairs. "Wow!" I thought. "Cool! People aren't pulling punches -- they're just saying what they feel. They really get into it here!" I wanted in.
Once in, I discovered that it's not just the dramatic moments that create intimacy; it's also the raft of all the little ways you get to know other people. In our communal environment, we like to take time to do things for each other and thus we find out what each other's preferences are. Like exactly how someone likes each of the seven pillows on her bed positioned. That one housemate likes his coffee the almondy color of another housemate's skin. One woman, who only ever seems to eat healthy food, always has a can of Pringles and a Lindt chocolate bar on her bedside table. When you ask Deborah to help out with something, she'll always say "No." But we're not bothered by that because we know you just have to wait a little while, ask again, and she'll likely say yes.
We've seen each other at our best and worst and funniest moments. Like the time one couple had a fight and he threw all her clothes out the window. Another couple would sometimes ask me to wake them in the morning. I discovered how they looked entwined and asleep, their skin beautiful against their dark purple sheets. Once someone slipped into the kitchen and spiced up the soup Millie was making for the house. (You should have seen when Millie found out...) When a friend's little girls would visit, one housemate painted their fingernails and showed them scary movies like Jurassic Park; they loved that. Once I had a boyfriend over and after we'd gone to bed a housemate came into our room with a video camera. We laughed. (No, he didn't get any footage!)
It always feels great when someone from outside the house comes to me for advice on what to do to please or impress one of my housemates. "Do you think she'd like lemon bars?" they might ask. And I can answer, "Oh, gosh, I'm afraid not, she's got a sensitivity to citrus. But you know what she does love? . . . " And then I feel good, like I myself am "A Celebrity's Friend," because I am the one being asked, "What is she REALLY like?" And I know.
