a matter of touch

I love hugs! Really! I mean, really, really, really!!! But here’s the thing… if you want to hug me, I need to know you WELL. And on top of that, I need to expect the hug, it has to mean something significant, and it has to come from me too.

Many people like me are hypersensitive, even to touch. Imagine that you have super sensitive teeth. If that were the case, would you keep drinking ice-cold water? My skin works kind of the same way. Even the lightest touch can feel like a firm push. Spending half an hour on a crowded bus is like throwing yourself into a bush of stinging nettles.

I don’t touch you. And if I do, it’s either because of “masking,” or because I care so much about you that I let you touch me. I can push past my hypersensitivity if it’s part of showing the importance of our relationship.

I hug my wife, my daughters, a couple of very close friends, and my dog. These are relationships I live very deeply. Still, I don’t hug them all the time — because for me, a moment of physical contact is something important.

daysof.it

A personal journal about neurodivergence,
music, and the courage to be understood.