Dec. 12th, 2009

callistahogan: (Default)
"Daaaaa-aaad, come up and kiss me!"

Every night, that was my motto. I would trudge up to bed and get cuddled up under my covers, waiting for my dad to come up and place that whiskery kiss on my forehead before falling asleep. I remember it most clearly when my sister and I were sharing a room, and she was with her boyfriend. It was about eight o'clock, and like clockwork, he would come up, kiss me goodnight. If he didn't, my night did not seem complete.

I grew out of it, but somehow, somewhere along the way, years later, I find that I do not like being touched.

I don't know why, but it just happened. It might have happened because of my parent's divorce (which is a long story for another time) or it might have been something I was born with, because I don't remember wanting to be touched much before that. It's not that something happened to me in my childhood, because nothing did.

I just don't like being touched.

I shy away from it, in fact.

This becomes a problem every get-together, when my family expects a hug and I don't feel comfortable. It's for a reason I don't understand, but I try to pull away as quickly as possible. It is especially uncomfortable with my mother -- because although I love her, I hardly ever see her, and there's an illogical part of me that blames her for breaking our family apart -- but it turns out that I have to grin and bear it, pretending that it doesn't bother me.

My best friend, M, once had so much crap going on in her life -- and she still does, as a matter of fact -- and I hugged her then. With my ex-boyfriends, I didn't mind the physical contact, but regardless, sometimes it made me uncomfortable. Even though I don't always prevent physical contact outright, I don't actively seek it out.

I prefer words, although I don't always have the right ones. I prefer showing my affection in a different way. However, my family is completely different. Most of them are very affectionate, wanting hugs whenever we meet, which I oblige with. I realize that sometimes, I have to sacrifice my own personal comfort for other peoples' joy.

I realize this most clearly when I see my mother.

The last time I saw her was at Thanksgiving, when we went to my sister's house for dinner. My stomach was tied in knots throughout the whole thing, because I realized that my boundaries would get pushed once again. I know she's my mother, I know that she needs to know I love her, and that's one of the major reasons why, when I hug her tightly, I don't feel uncomfortable.

I don't see her that often, and when I do, it's only for a couple of hours.

And if one touch from me will make her healthier and happier, then my personal boundaries go right out the window.

--

Gosh, this entry was hard to write. I guess I'm just out of practice. Anyway, this entry is for [livejournal.com profile] therealljidol . I hope you enjoy, and please vote for me. I hope to have a chance to continue writing!

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callistahogan

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