Hug-a-phobe :: 2013 ::

March 21, 2015


Sometime in 2013?

I’m a terrible hugger.  Always have been, always will be; it’s just one of those things.  You see, evangelical church people (with whom I spent so much of my young life) are almost always huggers.  Eye contact with people you know but aren’t actually that close with is just one painfully awkward hug waiting to happen.  


Small admission:  I really don’t like hugging people*.  Someone once tried to cure me of this... and for awhile I became a hugger.  Much like a conservative becomes tolerant of minorities.  With too much purpose and a bit of pretension.  


I’ve always considered myself pretty ok with expressing myself.  My enjoyment in life, or my disgust with it is often accurately conveyed using language.  If not that, my facial expressions usually leave little to the imagination.  I’m a walking, talking emoticon.


So why hug?  I get that some people need hugs. They require, for some reason, to be physically reassured when they’re down or ecstatic about something.  Let me inform the world:  Nobody needs a hug from me unless they have an unquenchable hankering for a clumsy encounter.


Why are my hugs so weird?



I refuse side hugs.  I have smelled one too many a stinky pit and that thing about the facial expressions?  I’m not lying.  Almost involuntary.


The phrase ‘breast on chest’ freaks the crap out of me and rings through my brain as I see myself in slow motion approaching my hugee.  Ugh.  Breast.  Chest.  Gross.  


Try to hug someone without actually touching chests. Graceless?  My point precisely.


Then comes the sweat factor.  Since I often sit or stand with my arms tucked close to my body,  (I’m almost always cold, I might actually have the circulation of a snail)  when I open up for a good old ‘stand up snuggle’ I’m always aware of potential clammy sweatyness.  You know what that means. Thats correct, it's a retarded chicken-wing/back-tap hug.


Nobody needs that.  Nobody wants that.


And still, I embrace all my friends even if I am the world’s worst hugger.  I still would much rather listen to a rant or laugh at a joke, make no mistake.  Yet, I conform.  I hug because its just the right thing to do sometimes. The second most painfully tense social situation is hugging someone who clearly wasn’t planning on hugging you.  The first is definitely leaving someone hanging on a high five.  That is truly stone cold.


{hugs}

*Excluded here are Reece and my mom.  They are both excellent huggers and therefore overshadow my lack of hug ability.


March 2015:


This is still true.  I'm an awkward hugger, but I do it.

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