Some of us didn't get those embraces, and it feels as if we'll never be touched enough. I was one of those skin-hungry types, which is probably why the words skin hunger spoke to me. In my family of origin we didn't have much physical interaction. My dad was anything but warm; my mother wasn't good at embracing, but she liked to be hugged.
Many years passed before I understood why I enjoyed being hugged or having someone touch my shoulder or arm. My skin hunger was starved. I wanted anyone—everyone—to embrace me.
One time several of my male friends and I attended a conference called "Men and Masculinity." They asked us to hug the people around us. The man on my left grabbed me and held me. It wasn't a good hug. As an adult, it was the first time I had become aware of feeling that way about a human embrace.
He held me and pressed his body into mine. I said nothing. When we sat down, his leg rubbed against mine several times. By then, of course, I figured out what was happening. As soon as we were dismissed, I hurried away and avoided him for the weekend.
I still like being hugged and I still have skin hunger, although I'm no longer as needy as I was back then. One thing I've learned is the difference between good touch and bad touch.
Please touch me—if you can give me a good touch.
I'll know when it's a good one.
3 comments:
Thanks for this term "skin hunger" God bless
I have heard the term and sure know the reality of it personally. My dad was not warm and yes, my mother was the needy one and she said, "If you don't hug and kiss me then you don't love me!" Ouuuuuucccccch, I feel that right now and still hear those words even though she has been gone since 1992. Maybe this is why I so desire to be held, cuddled, touched yet I know I give the impression I don't. So much more I want to say but have to stop and just cry.
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