How many of you have issues with being touched? My guess is that it is probably a big number. I have always had trouble with being touched by another person. It is unusual for my body to make physical contact with another person’s body in a day. I have worked hard to push past this for the sake of my son, who I don’t want to inherit my issues.
It took me years to be able to accept a hug without embarrassing myself. I would get stiff as a board as soon as I saw the arms coming. (That was a real problem at church, where women love to give hugs.) It was even worse if I didn’t see the hug coming.
I heard a sermon once about the importance of hugs and personal touch. The pastor said that a person needs something like 12 hugs a day to feel loved. I honestly could not remember the last time that I had been hugged, and it made me cry. I make a point of giving my son lots of healthy, loving touch – from tousling his hair when I walk by to giving him hugs and telling him that I love him. I am determined for this aversion to touch to end with me.
Despite the efforts I have made on behalf of my son, touch is simply not a part of my day-to-day life. I love to have my hair touched (and thoroughly enjoy trips to the beauty salon as a result). I also love it when someone touches my feet. However, the rest of me is “off limits.”
I know that I am not alone in this based upon the reactions of some of my offline friends who were also sexually abused as children. One is so uncomfortable with any form of touch that she will go several months between haircuts. It takes her a lot of emotional work to build up the courage to have her hair touched that much. I have another off-line friend who is very into sex, in part, because that is the only time in which she feels safe being touched. However, after the sex is over, she doesn’t want her lover touching any part of her.
I think the only way past this is to risk allowing another person to touch you and have positive experiences with it. The hardest part is that you cannot control the other person’s actions and reactions. Whenever I choose to initiate a hug, I doubt that the other person has any idea what it takes for me to do it.
Photo credit: Lynda Bernhardt
I am different. I like touch. I like hugs and giving hugs. but not when i was young. but it was ok. not men though, but didn’t stiffen or anything, just didn’t like it. drunk men even worse.
I am 38 years old. I’m fortunate that I appear 10 years younger. Lately, I tend to attract younger women because of this… & because of my patient & phlegmatic, but warm, demeanor. I find people in my age group to be slightly more reserved with physical contact, but this is not the case with women even five years my junior. Perhaps it’s a bit of a mental fallacy, but it seems to be the generalization. However, as this seems to be the age group I find myself involved with, primarily because they seek me out, there seemingly increased propensity towards hugging in particular is difficult for me to navigate & negotiate. Throughout my life I have had a fluctuating aversion to touch, & especially hugging. As I’m sure many of you can relate, there is a similarity between a embrace & a grab &/or a struggle at times in my mind. Look, I realize these people are not trying to hurt or control me by hugging, but I feel like I have a choice. Sometimes I’m simply not amenable to be hugged, especially by people I feel I barely know. It’s not OK, it is my choice, & I choose not to be hugged. At times, it has been very manageable, but lately, a series of events has exacerbated old wounds & I’ve been finding it increasingly difficult to subject myself to that touch, & those embraces. I have become so adroit at avoiding them over the last couple years, that when I’m cornered, & it happens… my sinuous teddy bear disposition turns into a suit of muscular armor & I, quietly, & unobtrusively, turn to stone, & into a statue. As you might imagine, women find this utterly perplexing, if not downright disconcerting. Unfortunately, my avoidance or lack of reciprocation is often perceived as if a mild to salient rebuke of their affection… platonic or otherwise. The irony is I’ve been told I am extraordinarily comforting & compassionate (with women in particular), so the dichotomy is confounding.
Recently, I took a fumbling leap. In an allegorical context, I revealed part of my abusive history to a platonic friend. She had made quite a few gentle inquiries into & about certain subjects &… In a first-person but literary context, I further revealed episodic recapitulations of how these experiences have effected my relations with certain women. This is a strictly platonic friend with whom I have had some grey areas to say the least. It may have been both a nebulous apology to her & a revelatory risk concomitantly. An apology & a vague explanation for avoiding her. For circuitously dodging her interest, her questions, her affection, her touch… For keeping her at arms length no matter how hard she tried to close the gap. The risk was & is that (in my mind) she could now use these revelations to explain any behavior of mine she may find disagreeable in the future. She now has the munition & ammunition to really hurt me if she so chose. It’s a convoluted scenario, as I used to work with her, so I certainly had several & very prudent reasons other than my “damage” for affably maintaining that distance. The distance I was eventually castigated for, & guilt ridden over, when emotions seethed to the surface at a point before her departure to work in another state.
I attract a fair amount of women, not that I do much with it, or them, lately. It just is what it is. The fact of the matter is this… I feel closer to (& I’ll refer to her as) Carole than I have to any other woman in years. It makes no sense to me. She’s too young, I’m too old, & we have almost nothing in common. Honestly, sometimes I feel as tho, the only interests we share are… each other. I don’t even understand why she sought me out, but she did, & I am still ambivalent over the ways I have circumvented her. I vacillate between seeing her as a younger sister-like figure, as my friend, & maybe… the unlikely possibility of something more. Although I find her attractive, my connection with her has very little to do with sex or physicality… but, maybe it should. Over the past few years, I’ve begun to separate the two, meaning my increasingly scarce but existent physicality, & my recondite emotions. I don’t mix my demonstrative business & my physical pleasure. I don’t think I have any intention of doing it here, in this situation, either. Maybe that’s not healthy, I don’t know. I am conflicted over whether I am glad that I have divulged to her what I have, or if it wasn’t just a way for me to push her away in conflict with a desire to have her in my life. She has moved a few hundred miles away. So, when I made these revelations, there was no risk of a physical & intimate confrontation. Regardless of that proximal cowardice, It was a big step for me.
The more astounding facet to all this… in writing about these things, even in a literary context, I realized how adamantly I had repressed the acknowledgement of my innate avoidance. It became apparent how detrimental, & to what scope, it has become a part of me. Although I find the notion laughable most times, people assert that I’m fairly intelligent. It was as much of a revelation to me, perhaps even more of an epiphany, than it was to her. I’ve been in therapy before, but… Ironically, this was of more value. Simply & ultimately because; I couldn’t use my intellectual barriers against my own voice, my own words, my own… as I can, could, & have, in outsmarting & circumventing (& this is not meant to imply or be in any way aggrandizing) professionals. That’s my loss, by the way.
It has been an interesting holiday season. Holidays, like many with an abusive past, can be difficult times for me. They were rife with perversity & the like. I randomly bumped into a woman with whom I was fairly intimate with for awhile the night before Christmas Eve. She is now married with a child. She sort of snuck up on me to a degree, & embraced me with great fervor & affection. I was tremulous when she released me. I had to steady my hands & person on the shopping cart in an effort to collect myself physically & mentally. It was entirely natural, but it also caught me extremely by surprise. She made insinuations about our past, & what might have been… our future. I don’t think it was intended to be malicious in any way, however, the message was clear. She was with her Mother, of all people. She made incredibly candid statements about her life to me. To the point where her mother left us alone for awhile. Before we parted, we hugged again. I was more prepared the second time. She pressed her cheek into me & squeezed me far harder & longer than I ever thought she might. It opened my eyes as to just how discomfited I’ve become with physical contact since i’d known her. I realized how very few people I’ve allowed to hug me since. Only one other woman has hugged me like that, with that intensity, since… & no, it’s not Carole.
I was honestly very ambivalent, but I did see Carole when she was home for the holidays. Sad to say, but if she hadn’t amiably insisted… & I mean to say she stopped into my work & insisted I set a date… I probably wouldn’t have done so. I’m so glad she did. I did thank her for this. Although eloquent, I was very clear. It was a healing occasion for me. It allowed me to somewhat atone for the furtive emotions that came forth as a result of my distant behavior before she departed. She knows that I am contrite, & that my compunction had tormented me ever since. Also, it did me good to see, speak, & sit with her, in front of a fire, in an intimate setting, & realize… It was OK. It was OK that I had told her of these things. That she was glad I had shared them with her. That it didn’t make her feel differently about me. That I was still the same person who put a smile on her face. That I garnered the same ebullience. Despite the oddity of it all, she was simply ingratiated, & grateful, that, however amorphously, I’d allowed her to close the distance a bit. There are still grey areas between us, but I think it’s alright. Although there were a couple moments when she clearly forgot the pragmatism associated, & the reality that we live hundreds of miles apart, there seems to be an understanding & acceptance that our lives are separate. I trust her. I felt comfortable hugging her. Even, or especially, after I revealed it can be difficult for me to do so. Maybe, well no, definitely, even more so.
She’s just a person. Carole has anxieties, & apprehensions, like the rest of us. She’d often been rather nervous & self-conscious around me, & she’d always felt especially vulnerable in my presence. Our meetings over the holidays were no exception. She’d broken up with her boyfriend of a month or so recently before the holidays. I am sorry that didn’t work out for her. I’d like to think that had nothing to do with her nervousness. How ironic is it that I may have avoided seeing this person due to my own fears & apprehensions, yet she was infinitely more nervous, just to be in my presence again, than I was! It had nothing to do with my revelations, other then perhaps my admissions & apologies for my behavior before she departed. It was impossible for me to be fearful or apprehensive as she berated herself for being so nervous to see me, openly ridiculed the outfit choice she made to see me in, & apologized for being all over the place while saying how glad she was to be near me again. I know, I know, I must sound like a bastard here. Gratefully, & although she was nothing but beaming smiles from the moment she saw me, about 20 minutes into our (second meeting) Christmas Eve fireplace chat, she was able to relax with me. Yes, I know… I… I just don’t know what to do it. I don’t know what to do with that “tension”. It’s hard to ameliorate that for her without crossing into that “grey area”. It’s a peculiar duality; the idea that I have always been both a source of salient nervousness for her & a unique source of comfort & solace as well. It’s hard to know what to do with any of it, especially when we seem to merely intersect as such form time to time. I just don’t know what to do with it, so I do nothing. I’m just glad she’s my friend.
She certainly isn’t as brazenly sexual or physical as many women i’ve known in the past. In fact, she’s quite delicate. She has always been exceptionally delicate around me in particular. Something that was difficult for me, to be quite honest. It seems a terrible match, her passive physical delicacy with me at times when she used to call me to her side, for any reason she could muster, & lean into me so that she could be gently guided by the arms, combined with my tentatively awkward touch & physical reticence. However, It was my intention to ask her, to ask Carole, if I could hug HER… to initiate that embrace after I saw her walk into my work on the 26th. Something I’d never done… but once. That occurrence being when her lachrymose & quivering countenance told me it was morally appropriate & intimately consolatory to do so. I’d always felt rotten over that fact. The fact that it had to come to that, before I could, before I did. I’d kissed her on the cheek, & touched her gingerly on the arms & elbows & person & such as she stood before me on occasion, but that was the infrequent extent of it. She’d always asked me for a hug. The first time she did so, her eyes welled with jubilant tears. She beat me to it again on the 26th, but, at least, I’d done so in full view of my coworkers. Again, I used to work with her & I don’t mix business & pleasure, & rarely my emotions & physicality. My prudence & my “damage” tend to collude & conspire & merge to separate me… to protect me. The fact that she’s now 300miles away protects me.
Although I was recovering from a cold, I went out on New Years Eve with a friend. Although I was fairly oblivious, it was a bit of a blind date with a woman he knows as well, or so it seems. Around midnight I found myself in a hugging situation. It was OK, the previous week had helped my comfort levels. It was New Year’s. You traditionally hug & give a quick kiss on New Year’s. I’d done it countless times in years past, even with people I hardly knew.
I’d met her 2 hours before. I’d also bumped into a very young woman I used to work with (21, WAY TOO YOUNG) who always made passes at me & made a big production over the fact that i’d never touched or even hugged her the week before she left our work. I gave her a tentative & avuncular half-hug to satiate this attrition at the time. I’d turned around, (while with this other woman, who’d dragged me onto the crowded dance floor 10 minutes before midnight & then had her hands on me) & this young woman was there, standing in front of me. She introduced herself to my “date”, bought us drinks, & disappeared into the crowd. It was surreal. I was a little apprehensive that this (other &) younger woman may have been leering at me through the crowd, upset that she could never achieve such a thing. Two days before the 31st she’d found me & asked me for another hug, which I’d affably avoided. I do feel an avuncular responsibility towards her, & the idea of making out in front of her would be insensitive at best. Anyway, the “hugging” on the dance floor was not brief, nor did it cease. The “festivities” lingered, & It continued for a long time. I’d kissed her on the cheek at midnight. She didn’t release me. She pulled me down for more every 30 seconds or so for more. I would kiss her, faintly on the forehead or cheek again, then slowly straighten up & peer off into the indistinct distance. She took this as being mysterious, masculine, & irresistible, but under that manly facade, for me… it did not go well. I felt as if my “choice” had been revoked, & affably taken away. I didn’t want to hug anymore.
We were sandwiched in the crowd. It was all too “close”, & there was really no escape without offending her. She groped at me & kept pulling my body into her. I just became a statue. There was nothing wrong with her. I found her quite enjoyable but… it was the look in her eyes. It was too suggestive, far too intimate. I mean, I realize my friend & her had likely discussed me, & I can be sporadically & inexplicably charming at times but… I didn’t sense it coming… at all. I kept telling myself it was “just New Years”, but the look in this woman’s eyes said otherwise. At a point, even tho she kept trying, I don’t even think I kissed her anymore. I kept my lips pursed together & just kind of brushed them against her as if a compensation for her own. It seemed interminable. PDA & relentless HUGGING! Clearly, she didn’t know me. Ultimately, I just felt clumsy & a little guilty. Guilty that I couldn’t reciprocate. Maybe even a bit conflicted over the person with whom I could & had in the days before, however platonically.
Like all things, good or bad, eventually the dance floor “hugging” did conclude. She had to sense, at a point, that I wasn’t really into it & had somewhat disengaged. My “date” & I spoke for awhile afterwards. When we parted she hugged me & whispered in my ear, in the way women will make those statements in the form of a question, “I’ll see you again”. I haven’t contacted her.
I should contact, however remotely I go about it, that (21 y/o) younger coworker tho. I’m a little worried as to how she might react after seeing her avuncular figure getting groped on a date. She’s always been very open about her feelings for me. They’re not limited to amorous school-girl crushing. I’d taken on a different role to her. I’d like to not hurt those feelings, while still keeping my distance, if at all possible. She has a procedure coming up to remove a growth in her cervix, & I’ve made it abundantly clear that I am here for her if she needs me. I keep my promises. Besides, she was always very clear on & aware of the order of things. Precisely, she was very clear as to her place, & how it pertained to my relationship with Carole, & her inability to supersede or usurp that in any way. Not to mention how I carefully elucidated the utter absurdity of her advances as I’m old enough to be her father!
This is my holiday hugging story. I’m pleased to have found a place where others may have some notion as to what i’m speaking of, & the internal panic I felt, while being grasped on the dance floor. It did not go well for me. I don’t know how much headway i’ve made. I feel like it was a big step back… & away. The hugging has been very difficult for me.
I will tell people I don’t like to be touched. But I really do like safe hugs. It has to be from someone I trust though. My T gives great hugs – best part of the sessions are hugs from her. My daughter is very touch-oriented too. Her favorite thing is to get “snuggles.” It takes a lot of deep breathing for me to do this some days, but I know how important it is for her. I’m not sure at what age it started being an issue with her – I snuggle with my baby all the time and love it. No issues there. I’ve gotten better about touches I don’t see coming – don’t jump quite so high. But feet are the worst. Keep your feet to yourself. My husbands feet especially – ugh. And touch from behind is a huge no-no for me. Don’t ever sneak up behind me.
Definitely have worked to get over my aversion to touch. Mainly men – in fact someone when I was a teenager commented on this.
That said – I have no problem hugging my children A LOT and kissing them. Don’t get many hugs from my teenage daughter these days, but my 10 year old son is a great one for hugging.
I am working hard through physical contact with hubby now – that is a difficult one.
Hugs from therapist – wonder how I would receive that. My T has never touched me, no handshake, no pat on back, nada. I wonder if that is because of her own issues or her perception of my issues given my history.
OLJ
We are all different. For me I have no problem with physical touch (hugging, etc). But I can only hug women. I wouldn’t think of hugging a man; first because that’s not generally “accepted” and plus I probably would end up “stiff as a board” like you describe.
I do think touch is crucial. I don’t fully understand it, but I know that it’s necessary for me.
When I was a kid I hated being hugged. I had a friend who was from a huggy family and she would always try and hug me. I hated it. It wasn’t until I was in AA and I was constantly saturated with it, that I learned to deal with it (got sober when I was 17). One of my sisters never initiates hugs, but she will tolerate them if given. I was surprised once when she said to me one day ‘you know that you cringe every time mom hugs you’.
I remember the first time I felt the arms of another person around me. I was in my early 20’s. It was the strangest realization – I had never felt the arms of another person around me in an embrace. I had always only felt my arms around them and what I was doing.
now, part of me loves to be hugged and held. She’s like a baby.
I am not sure that I hug and touch my daughter enough. I lay with her every night and we talk and I play with her hair and scratch her back. So I know at least she gets that. But I try and remind myself how important it is to give her some time in the morning too. Eye contact is a huge problem for me, but I am aware of it now and I am working on it. I dont want my d to be the same.
safe cyber (((hugs))) to anyone who wants them
palucci
Hugging and being in some cultures is expected and if one declines a hug it is seen as disrespect. That creates ideas in many people that if I don’t allow touch them I am disrespectful. I see touch differntly as it should be a choice. People should ask before they hug you it’s boundaries. Alot of families don’t understand them.
I have very ridgid boundaries because of abuse. I have gone months without a hug. And it does make me feel sad and lonely. I try to avoid all family function where hugging is expected. It’s like a feeling flashback when someone touches me without asking.
Good post as always. You always make me think :)
Hope
I don’t really work on the aversion to physical contact. It kinda goes hand in hand with the work of therapy in that as I process the trauma it works itself out.
We do hand hugs during therapy. That seems to work for us. We do hug our therapist at the end of the session. This was discussed and agreed that it was OK for her and I.
For some reasons we have to hug on both sides. If we do not we actually list to one side for a while. If we only hug on one side we have a hard time walking down the hall after therapy. The old asymmetry of the brain caused by extreme trauma.
I used to activly avoid hugs and any kind of physical contact. It kind of physically hurt, without that I can explain how that worked. I just couldnt do it. Then I got into this ‘social awkwardness’ of straight out refusing/escaping, and it became necessary to do a minimum of ‘socially acceptable’ touching, and I /endure/ it now, but it isnt always easy. Its like a deep pain.
Funny you mention hairdressers, I dont like them at all either, I want them to cut the hair as fast as efficiently as possible, and really need to have /energy/ or resistance if you like, to go there.
But I guess most people ‘feel’ that I am avoidant in terms of hugging.. otoh they still feel rejected if I dont, so.. and I _never_ initiate hugs.
I guess I should change this, but I dont know how to do it.
when i was a little girl [ 4 – 17 ] i avoided being touched as much as possible because i was certain that someone would get too close and smell or sense the rapes. in fact, from 14 through until 17 i was absolutely not touched by anyone except the two men who regularly raped me. i came to crave their touch because it saved me from the despair of total touch-isolation. obviously i felt and still feel a lot of guilt about that – needing them to touch me. now-a-days i love hugs from my sister and her daughter and from my husband – i have trained myself to feel safe with them. but from anyone else a hug is filled with revulsion. i do think that people can be too free with giving hugs and in doing so vilate other’s sense of personal space. i hate going to the hairdresser and often get my husband to cut my hair. i think that the most damaging part of my own long term sexual abuse was my self-imposed touchless-world. to not be touched for so many years was more damaging to me than my 25 years of anorexia and bulimia. it cut me off from humanity. kind of like those cruel baby monkey experiments that harlow did – see link below :
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harry_Harlow
I hate having my head and face touched, especially if I don’t see it coming, I’ll flinch, and sometimes I freeze up or cry out. I used to lash out at anyone who touched my arms when I was younger, even when I was asleep. I got over having my arms and back touched though, since I use the public transport a lot, and just in crowded places, people are always accidentally brushing you. I can’t stand though, when people touch my arm deliberately, and keep in contact for more than a few seconds.
I only started remembering my abuse recently, so I couldn’t tell you why I have an aversion to those places in particular yet.
I don’t have any problems with hugs though, giving or receiving. I kind of like them, but only if I see them coming.
I like touching and being touched, but some people just feel wrong. I find myself rearranging so that I have several feet of buffer between me and them. It’s not them, they just remind some part of me of someone else.
However, I just can. not. handle. people touching me with getting permission first. It doesn’t have to be verbal permission, just hesitating for a moment, so that I have the opportunity to say no if I want to, is fine. It’s hard to get over the aversion I feel towards being touched by some people when I have to deal with people not respecting my space, as it gives me new experiences to fuel my anxiety about touch.
I despise touch. My husband tries to work on it with me but if I’m not actively working on it any form of touch makes my stomach turn. I was the weird kind in my family because I woudn’t hug anyone and they are all very touchy feely. I used to get in trouble so I would just disappear as soon as we showed up at a function. I try harder now but it is always awkward.
I don’t want the aversion continuing with my daughter so I touch her every time I think about it and hide the fact that it makes me uncomfortable. She is VERY loving though (snuggles, gives lots of kid kisses, lots of hugs, and always has to touch when she is near) so sometimes I just can’t do it. I tell her there is absolutely nothing wrong with the way she is but that mommy just isn’t as comfortable with it so we need to give mommy a break. It’s either that or pull away like someone just poured slime on me. Not sure that regular touch will ever get better.
I’m in this club too. I also like my head being touched, and my feet – by professional hair stylists or masseurs, etc. The rest of me is also off limits, though I have worked really hard to accept hugs from friends. Even now it freaks me out sometimes.
I myself only have aversion to being touched when I’m upset. Occasionally I want to be hugged but most of the time I don’t, but won’t freak out if I’m touched. When I’m upset or anxious I CAN’T stand being touched even a handshake. Trying to touch me in anyway when I’m upset illicites a violent reaction and can trigger an anxitey attack which normally results in my fainting, not fun. I also have some sexual issues regarding being touched but won’t go into those here, they get complicated. Does therapy work? I have given up on therapists and doctors for the most part, just take Xanax for my panic attacks and one other med only legal in a handful of states, the merits of which I won’t debate here, it works for me and that’s what matters. Has anyone had any success with therapy regarding touch aversion though? Freaking out at work, passing out etc just cause someone tried to give u a friendly hug or even handshake is embarassing and hard to explain.
Hi, TPC.
Yes, therapy works. Your touch aversion is a symptom of the underlying pain. Healing the underlying pain will heal the symptom. Finding a qualified therapist with experience in working with survivors of severe child abuse can change your life.
– Faith
i hate being touched and feel really embarrased and awkwared cannot even shake hands .yet i love going to the hairdresser so i can make a new me . i dont think thats sexual .its about me becoming a different person
I hate being hugged too. I’ve always felt like the only one, and my friends have gotten mad at me before because I absolutely flinch when people try to touch me. A friend actually yelled at me once. But it scares me so much. And it’s embarrassing when I know people are judging me. I want to be able to hug people though. It makes me cry that I can’t. I don’t like being scared. And no one, other than people who share my past, understands why I just can’t do it. My friends are all huggy, and they think I’m so rude for backing off. I wish people were more understanding.
“I am determined for this aversion to touch to end with me.”
I can relate 100%
I have a terrible aversion to touch. Sometimes it makes me nauseous. Sometimes makes my skin crawl. Sometimes makes me extremely angry. I know it has something to with childhood sexual abuse. It makes sense that I can barely handle my husband’s touch, but I can’t figure out why I can’t handle my kids touch. I am fine with the hairdresser and doctors sort-of, but everyone else, forget about it! I’m ok with hugging if I am the one who initiates them, but sneak up on me and you might get punched! I feel like I should get help for this especially since I don’t want it to affect my family anymore.
i hate some times to be huged. for me i think that when “some one” is touching me i fell that i am being humilated there in my status.
god created this beautiful world with his hands. he designed each one of us with his hand like a porter. and so we all are divine spark. we all are.divine because there is the handi work ofgod. his touch. touch has a great theraputic value. and i am the one really understood it. even though i have so many bitter experience with touch. i was able to over come all thse with the above concept of touch. when some one is touching it is the the angel of god who is touching us it is god himself who touch
I so know how this is, I’ve been in therapy for the last 10 years now, but I still flinch when ever someone touches me let alone try to hug me. I do try to give people hugs, but that mostly feels very wrong and I have the feeling that they feel that too. I wish healing from child abuse, severe neglect and sexual abuse was easier!