This is going to be an odd post for me, of all people, to make, but so be it. It's what I've been thinking about lately.
But let's start at the beginning, shall we?
I went to that documentary on Monday. All by myself. Yes, it made me cry, but I still consider myself an emotional badass for going.
Anyway it was well done, and at one point a mother was talking about when her daughter died and she said, "It was terrible but in some ways it was such a relief, because I knew she wasn't hurting anymore and when you're a parent and your baby is hurting all you want to do is just pick her up and hold her, but she wouldn't let us do that. It hurt her too badly to do that. So when she was gone I could finally hold her the way that I'd been longing to do for months. And that's what I did. I crawled up into bed with her and just held her."
I really identified with that. I didn't crawl into bed with Nathan after he was gone, but there was a very long time when I couldn't touch him at all. When any physical touch caused him pain, and all I wanted was the peace and reassurance that just holding his hand would bring. And then there was the night when he was actually feeling good enough to let me sit in bed with him and watch a Netflix show. It felt like Christmas to both of us. I was practically high on touch and all we did was sit next to each other.
While I am not a touchy person with the world at large I'm actually pretty affectionate in a relationship, though I still have a low PDA tolerance. But because of this I noticed that whenever I felt bad and Nathan would sit by me or lay down and talk to me or just hold my hand it made me feel better. Measurably better. So much so that I would sometimes make him sit with his hand over my eyes when I had a headache. He was a patient soul. :) But it helped.
And this isn't just a placebo effect. This is why they do kangaroo care for premies-- This is a serious thing. Even the NY Times thinks so. They call it "skin hunger" for widows/widowers. It's sensory depravation, until you get used to not having that support anymore. Because that's exactly what it is. Support. It's physical proof that you aren't alone.
And I've been thinking about all this a lot.... and how it's a lot easier for girls to give physical contact, because guys get labeled as skeezy or "coming on" or whatever, whereas girls who initiate contact are normally just sweet or friendly. So I've been thinking about trying to alter my non-touching stance on life. Not to become a flirt or anything, but because I think I might be doing the world at large a favor. :D Plus... people are afraid to hug me... it's weird and it's awkward for them and I don't like that.
So today I have a friend who got some bummer news. And then some more bad news. And then some more. And no one died or anything but it was just a really crappy day for him-- full of rejection, and I knew about this via fb, and I expected him to skip the class we have together today, because it was such a bad day. But he didn't and he came into class and he was just agitated. This is a guy who doesn't really hold a lot in, so he was doing pretty well just to keep it down to a mutter and the occasional half-serious threat to poke his eye out with his pen said under his breath. And the whole class long all I wanted to do was just grab his wrist and hold it. I know that sounds weird, and this wasn't a romantic interest thing, I just felt like he needed to be touched. But how weird would I be if I actually did that? So I didn't, obviously. But after just having so much empathy for him all class long and wanting him to feel better, when it was over and he stood up, I stood up too and said, "Do you need a hug?"
And he said, "What?" And was shocked/confused for a second before what I said sank in and he said, "Yeah. Yeah, I do."
And so I gave him a good *real* hug as people were gathering up their stuff, and he thanked me several times. But it really wasn't a hardship or a problem. It was easy. Honestly, I don't really feel like it was enough, but at least it was something.
We all need that from time to time. The reminder that we really aren't alone. The reassurance of touch.
When I was in high school, at a speech & debate tournament, I was out during semifinals and got tasked with carting everyone's debate tubs to a central location while a number of people watched the round. A female squad mate and I sat outside the room after we finished, since the round had already started, and she said, "Tell me your life story."
ReplyDeleteThere was no way I was going to tell her the whole truth, but I carefully edited it and gave her the safe-for-public-consumption version. And it was pretty great, because I got to talk about stuff I never talked about.
On the bus ride home, we sat next to her and I fell asleep. I woke up two hours later when we got back to our school, head on her shoulder, with drool all over her sweatshirt.
I was mortified, horrified, apologetic. I was an underclassmen, a novice, and she'd been so nice.
And while everyone else was standing up and getting their stuff and shuffling off, she turned around and gave me a hug. It was the first hug I'd received in over two years.
Like you noted above, it wasn't romantic. It was just contact, and it was... there is no word in English that does it justice. It was like salvation.
I'm a big believer in hugs and physical contact now, but like you said, guys have to be really restrained with that or we come across as creepers. It makes me sad, because I think the world would be a better place if we weren't all so repressed and scared of physical contact. There is a reason Christians of old laid on hands and shared a holy kiss--because touch is a blessing, and we need it regularly.