*sticks hand out as quickly as possible*
“Yeah it was nice meeting you!”
Or
They hug me and I awkwardly hug them back while shoving my shoulders forward and letting my body sink as to get my center as far away from them as possible.
I don’t like being touched. In this era where everyone touches a lot and there is virtually no line of propriety, I feel like I’m the only one. But the fact is, I do not like to be touched. Why? Because I don’t know you. You’re not my family or friend. I don’t know you like that, so why would I hug you?
See by that logic it doesn’t seem so odd and antisocial of me. It’s that I don’t like being casually touched by randos in general. I very much enjoy a hug from a friend and a cuddle from my mom. Physical affection is a very healthy and necessary attribute to being human. What I don’t like are strangers touching me, and yes if we’ve only just met or even if we’ve hung out maybe three times, you are still a stranger to my life. It isn’t as weird as it sounds. My body is just not physically used to their body. That meaning, I don’t know their mannerisms. I don’t know how they move; where they put their arms when we hug and whatnot. I don’t know how to touch you.
Here’s what happened.
I think I started to become aware of it my freshman year of high school. Submerged in a whole new world of crazy hyper sexual 15 year olds, it felt like everyone wanted to hug me. Boys and girls alike, it seemed that you could meet someone that day and end up on their back and in their arms. I participated too, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I was uncomfortable. I just didn’t know why yet.
Maybe my sophomore year I started to notice it. I avoided hugging my friend’s moms and when they did I scrunched away from their bodies in an awkward shoulder heavy hug. I would hang out with one or two people and new kids would join, but by the end of the night they wanted hugs goodbye like we’d been friends forever. They’d go in for it and I didn’t really know what to do with our awkward unfamiliar limbs and my protruding breasts.
Junior year is when I realized all these people who had no business touching me, were always trying to. Little things that could be avoided passed as normal now. The fact is, as a young woman, everyone wants to touch you. Ladies I know you know this is true.
A guy walks behind me and has to touch my shoulder or back.
Excuse me?
In a conversation with a new person or cordial acquaintance, they affectionately touch my arm.
Please don’t.
What I started to become aware of was the fact that people felt entitled to my personal space without inquiring about it. It is very simple, if you don’t know me, why do you feel entitled to touch me?
I remember once while grocery shopping with some chick friends, the cashier guy was young and was being very friendly and sweet to us. It was nice. We left a grocery in the store and the guy ran out to give it to us. We thanked him and his last ‘you’re welcome’ gesture was to touch my arm. This may not seem like a big deal to most people, to most this socially passes as kind and polite. The premise is, he didn’t know for sure if it was okay with me for me to be touched, by him, a stranger. And it wasn’t. One should not assume it was okay to touch my body. This assumption to my space turns me off automatically to the person. This assumption to space is a slippery slope. If they feel entitled to my arm and personal space, what else may follow?
Situations like this have continued to occur again and again. Girls and boys alike they touch my hand, my elbow, my arm, hug me, pet me, wrap their arms around me. They touch my face, my neck, my cheek, my leg, my side, my center and dear God just DON’T TOUCH ME. I freeze up and get uncomfortable. There’s a reason they say ask the owner before petting a dog you know. People have no business laying their hands on you if you haven’t asked for it or shown explicit interest. Especially those with alternative motives to touch you.
At the beginning of the semester my junior year, my english teacher, who would become my mentor, announced to the class she walked around when she lectured and may place a hand on a shoulder or use one of our arms in a gesture for part of the lecture. She said how if anyone didn’t care for this, just to let her know. After class I came to her and told her how I didn’t like to be touched. She was very supportive and understanding and promised then that she’d never do it. She made me feel very comfortable in what I considered made me weird.
My senior year, it was established to me that I avoided touching people I was not close to and comfortable with. I stuck my hand out for hand shakes or arm waves or just avoided the situation politely. One day I arrived early to class with the same english teacher. A different male teacher came in the room and came in for some kind of contact, I can’t actually remembered what exactly, but I said to him how, oh, I don’t really like being touched. He was like “oh okay”, still enthusiastic, “how about an elbow?”, he offered. “Yeah that’s alright,” I lied and hesitantly gave in before he left the room. I turned to see my teacher looking at me. “Was that really alright?” She asked, knowing the answer.
“No.”
“When you said that you don’t like being touched, he became defensive. That’s why he attempted to offer you something else, believing it was something with him. It’s okay to explain to people ‘it’s not you, it’s just a personal preference and I tell it to everyone’”. She explained to me. This teacher taught me the dynamics of interacting with people in an uncomfortable way and being able to acknowledge something within myself while still being able to connect with those around me.
Honestly now I don’t think I hate the touching as much as I say I do. It’s the mental game. I hate the awkward awareness you need to have for another person’s body or the comfort barrier I have to get over, so I just avoid it. When I ask for a hug, it means the other person has something I want and that makes me self conscious. I’m too afraid to admit that someone has something I want and that I’m vulnerable to them. I’m working on that.
As far as I’m concerned, my over exaggerated phobia of touching another human being gives my affection worth. My friends know I really like and care about them because of how much I hug and hold onto them. My parents’ affection is valued and reciprocated like nothing else. I don’t think “I hate being touched”, I just dislike people assuming they can enter my personal space without asking. Isn’t that fair? All people do nowadays is hug everyone they can get their hands on. Not me, hugs are saved for the real ones. Besides, if you treat everyone the same, you treat no one special.