Friday, November 21, 2008

Group hugs give me siezures

I have never been a hug person. Nor have I been a pat on the shoulder person. In fact I'm more of a don't touch me person. The affliction of the flinch has been with me as long as I can remember. Maybe it's because I come from a family that does not constantly touch each other. In fact I haven’t kissed my parents since the 5th grade when I told them I would not kiss them until they quit smoking, even then I was partial to boycotts.
Just because I'm not a big touchier does not make me unaffectionate, I choose to show my admiration in other ways, mostly with comments. My idea of a hug is far more abstract than just an embrace, I choose to converse. I want to look someone in the eye and engage them in a deep conversation about absolutely uncomfterable subjects.
I can remember walking up a flight of stairs with a friend of mine looking up at him, which is a condition I have become accustomed to because of my height or lack there fore of, rolling my eyes and calling him a padawan. To which he told me I had truly out-nerded myself, but isn't that what a hug is?
When you give someone a hug you spread open your arms exposing the most vulnerable part of you, the heart. When you give a hug you are completely open. Completely exposed. Completely vulnerable. When I look someone in the eye and reveal a little something about myself, in my own little way that’s what I'm doing. I'm giving them a hug, the only way I know how.
The truth is, anytime you reveal a little of yourself, in a hug, in a smile, or in a little bit of personal information you let that person know: Hey, I get it and you know what, I think you get it too.