Contact

I’m a tactile person, which isn’t welcome by most people. Physical contact is a craving for me. It means nothing to mean in any way beyond feeling rooted to humanity. It isn’t a need for perversion or fetishization, but it is like breathing. There are times when it is a sign of affection for those in my life. Other times it is simply to let someone know I am present.

Perhaps it is a craving for attention or acknowledgement. I’m not sure. I do know it is not shared by most people. What I think is an innocent gesture disturbs people and I have been told so in the past, chastised even. I learned not to do it. I do not exist to cross boundaries with people or to disrespect them.

I do understand it, though. I have been made uncomfortable or angered by some particular moments. Last year, while riding the scenic train out of Stearns, three people sat around me and one squeezed my knee, asking if I minded them joining me, but without it being a question. I stopped short of threatening violence. When I was younger a co-worker grabbed me by the groin besause she thought it would embarrass me.

Live and learn, live and learn. There are those who understand and I will hesitantly make physical contact. Although it feels like a need, I am careful not to abuse permission. Does all of this sound strange? Mayhaps, I don’t know.

Thanks for stopping by, I appreciate you. Until next time, darlings, remember to be kind to yourselves.

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