Intimacies between women often go backwards, beginning in

The words of Elizabeth Bowen, “Intimacies between women often go backwards, beginning in revelations and ending in small talk,” capture with piercing truth the strange and beautiful rhythm of female companionship. She reveals that the path of closeness between women often defies the order of conventional relationships. While most bonds begin with politeness, casual chatter, and only later unfold into confession, the bond of women often leaps immediately into the sacred space of shared secrets, vulnerability, and soul-bearing truths. Only after these have been spoken does the friendship rest, settling into the gentler rhythm of the everyday.

The origin of such an observation lies in Bowen’s keen understanding of human nature, sharpened by her life as a novelist in the twentieth century. She lived in an age where women’s voices were often muted in public life, and so their private conversations became all the more vital. In those circles of trust, women often bypassed the barriers of formality, rushing straight to the heart of the matter. Revelations—about love, loss, family, or fear—became the foundation of intimacy, woven quickly and deeply.

History is rich with examples of such bonds. Consider the friendship of Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West. Their letters, filled with longing, honesty, and intellectual fire, began not with pleasantries but with the raw revelations of their inner lives. They shared the private storms of the soul before descending into lighter words about gardens, books, and the rhythms of daily existence. Their intimacy truly “went backwards,” as Bowen described, leaping first into the abyss of confession, and only later resting upon the calmer surface of small talk.

This pattern speaks to the unique way women have often built resilience together. In a world where they were frequently denied positions of outward power, their strength was forged in private spaces, in whispered revelations that built trust and solidarity. From these confessions sprang comfort, understanding, and the deep assurance that one was not alone in suffering or joy. And once the bond was secured, the friendship could be nourished by lighter exchanges—the small talk that sustains companionship in daily life.

Bowen’s words also contain a hidden wisdom about the nature of intimacy itself. True closeness is not always found in the slow peeling away of layers, but sometimes in the sudden exposure of the soul. To begin with revelations is to leap into trust, to risk being known, and in that risk lies the seed of unshakable intimacy. Women, bound by shared experience and often mutual struggles, have long possessed this courage to reveal first and converse later.

The lesson for us all is profound: do not underestimate the power of revelation in building human connection. Though the world teaches us to guard our hearts, to hide behind endless layers of small talk, real closeness comes when we dare to speak the truths we usually conceal. Such truths, once shared, allow friendship to flourish in both gravity and levity.

Practical actions flow from this: cultivate spaces of trust where you can reveal your heart without fear. Do not wait always for the “right time” to share what matters most, for sometimes the act of speaking itself creates the bond. Yet also cherish the small talk, for it is the gentle cloth that wraps around the fire of revelation, keeping it alive in the long seasons of friendship.

Let future generations remember: intimacy does not always travel the straight road from politeness to passion. As Bowen teaches, sometimes it moves backwards—beginning in fire and ending in embers. And in those embers, glowing quietly in the small talk of daily life, lies the warmth of friendships that endure across years, across trials, and across generations.