When I am first getting to know people, one thing I am often quick to share with them right from the get-go is that I am not a hugger, in fact, I am not big on physical touch at all. At least that's what I always tell people. The truth is though, over recent months it has become quite obvious to me that this is, in fact, a lie. I actually don't mind hugs and cuddles at all. In fact, I might actually even really like them. But the thing is if you tell yourself something long enough you eventually start to believe it. And I think that is exactly what happened when it came to me feeling like a non-hugger.
Now, I didn't grow up in a family that did a whole lot of hugging or cuddling. And as a teenager, I had a few regrettable experiences with physical touch that made me less than open to the idea of anything physical. So by the time I reached my twenties I had already determined that I did not like hugs and I did not want anyone in my personal space. While I don't think there was a definitive moment I decided to start telling people my disapproval of hugs and physical contact, I do know that once I started telling people not to hug me, they listened....for the most part. When I came into my late twenties and early thirties I was pretty much set in my ways. People hadn't really hugged me all that much over the years, and I had actually grown accustomed it. So when I started spending more of my time in Christian circles and hugs seemed to be something everyone wanted to hand out, my body revolted, often leaving me stiff as a board with others feeling like they had just hugged a tree!
Then this past school year God felt it only natural to fill my classroom with students who like nothing more than to curl up on my lap, rub my legs and arms, or...you guess it...give me hugs. Not only that, but my little munchkin class is constantly asking me to give them hugs, saying that my hugs are the best because I am like a big ole bear (uh, thanks....I think). Anyway, a few months ago I was having a bit of a rough time with life. It felt like everything was going wrong and I just wanted to give up on trying to make things work. I remember siting in my car crying and thinking, "I just need a hug!". Say what??!? Since when do I want hugs?! It was like the thought escaped before I could stop it, but once it was was out there I knew I couldn't deny the truth. A hug was just what I needed and exactly what I wanted. The truth was out...at least to myself.
This past Saturday, my friend Alicia Yost's first book came out. It's called "OnWard: A Funny, Heartbreaking and Insightful Collection of Faith Lessons" (it's available on Amazon so check it out!) and in one of the chapters she speaks about this very topic. My words could never do her words justice, but as I read that chapter about "Healing Hugs," I felt this tug in my heart drawing me deeper into my realization that my dislike of hugs is a figment of my imagination and should be left in the past. Like Alicia shared about herself in her book, I also don't think my propensity to become like a stiff board when someone hugs me will disappear immediately, but I am ready to work through that. Something tells me that there's plenty of people in my life ready and willing to help me out with some exposure therapy and since practice makes perfect, I think I am heading in the right direction!
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