I came to grips that I am missing tenderness. Yes, I have people in my life. I am not a homebody, an introvert, or an unsocial person. On Saturday evening my dance friends gathered at Jennie’s house. We ate and watched YouTube videos of dances we might like to perform in the future. I sat down next to Lovie and sank into her. Literally, the sofa pushed us together. As if she were my sister (I don’t have one) or one of my children, I found myself snuggling in closer to her. It felt comfortable and warm and Lovie didn’t mind.
Last night I found myself trying to remember the last time someone rubbed my back just because. When was the last time I snuggled with someone on the sofa or in bed? When was someone tender with me or I had the opportunity to be tender to them. I am a person who finds value in touch. Touch helps me feel connected to a person. I call myself a “toucher”. Some people laugh at that description, some people nod because they understand.
Physical touch is my secondary love language. If you haven’t read the book “The 5 Love Languages” I highly recommend it. My primary love language is quality time. That coupled with touch is pure bliss for me. Strolling along holding hands, sitting close to someone in the car, snuggling up and watching the sunset. The act of kissing someone whenever I want or them kissing me whenever they want; how has this alluded me for so long?
When my children were little, there were days I felt completely overstimulated. The last thing I wanted was for someone to touch me. I felt as if my body was not my own. Between pregnancy, nursing, potty training, dressing, diaper changes, and baths; touch was a constant companion. There were the extra love touches necessary to help my children know they were loved and to keep my man feeling he was desirable. All of this filled my touch quota to overflowing!
Fast forward 20 years; a person can pay to be cuddled by a professional cuddler. I see the value in this but wonder how it is that we, as a society, have pushed out real connections for virtual ones? When I meet my family and friends, we hug. When we part, we hug. I’ve been told I am a great hugger. I hug the way I want someone to hug me. With some of my very close friends, we hug, kiss (in a plutonic way), hold hands, walk arm in arm, and sit within easy touch proximity. This is how I touched my kids as they got older. I still kiss their cheeks, stroke their hair, hug them close, and snuggle them. My love for them doesn’t fade, it is more amazing everyday. They keep my heart tender and soft. I can’t imagine my life without them. I can’t imagine my life without tenderness….without touch. What does a person do when touch isn’t part of their regular day but there is a physical, mental, and emotional need for it?