To Touch or Not To Touch 

Dear Readers,

When was the last time you were wrapped in a loving embrace? If it was recent, consider yourself lucky. We are currently going through a major touchless epidemic.

In an increasingly digital world, the act of physical touch is now a coveted commodity. 

As I think about this, I think about my own relationship with touch. My primary love language is physical touch, it always has been and I have always known this. You might find it strange to find that many of my loved ones do not know this. In fact, a lot of them might even be surprised by this. The truth is, while I find comfort in physical comfort, I am often uncomfortable asking for it. There are times when I am uncomfortable receiving it. 

What is it about love and care that is so terrifying? The irony of feeling uncomfortable seeking comfort is not lost on me, and I imagine it is not lost on a lot of people reading this. 

But it is uncomfortable. It is one of the most vulnerable feelings one can have, and that is scary. There is an inherent risk of embarrassment and rejection surrounding it. As such, seeking comfort inherently makes me feel like I am not in control. It makes me feel defenseless. 

So, to feel in control, I have completely avoided my need for hugs and cuddles for so many years. I am still awkward around it and it has led me to miss out on years and years of warm tender hugs from my family. The angsty teenager embarrassed of cuddles might be long gone, but there is a leftover of her embarrassment that persists somewhere. It is like a noose preventing me from asking. 

So much of asking for and giving love is about safety and security. I wonder where this lack of safety stemmed from. I wasn't always like this. I used to be quite comfortable asking for, and actually demanding affection as a young girl. But as I got older, I began to see shifts in how people approached touch around me. And somewhere in my subconscious mind, I began to feel embarrassed about this need. 

I wish I had a healthier relationship with my need for touch. It is weird because the people in my inner circle, my “core” group can sense this physicality in me. But given my own hesitations, no one approaches. The paradox with needing touch to feel comfortable is that no one will offer it to you if you keep preventing it from happening. There is an inherent requirement of reciprocity and consent that is absolutely aligned with the fundamentals of touch. 

Even in my relationships grounded in intimacy, care, and security, I cannot bring myself to truly and openly ask.

I won’t say that I am a member of the touchless epidemic club. I still hold my mum’s hand when we go anywhere, I rest my head on my dad’s shoulder, my brother tells me I always sit too close on the sofa, my romantic partners always receive a peck on their hand from me, my best friends and I hold lock arms when we go out. I wish they knew how much that meant to me. I am not touch starved. It is all around me, but it somehow always makes me ill at ease. As if there is some, that might happen. What if I linger too long? What if I ask for too much? I wonder how others approach this. Are we all so weird around expressing love? 

If so, why? 


Your Truly,

Tinderella

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Constantly Talking, Rarely Heard