@deeploneliness_: That’s actually what makes physical touch feel so intimate for some people. I don’t necessarily want everybody hugging me, grabbing my arm, sitting too close, or casually entering my personal space. Half the time I’m internally begging people to please remain within their assigned geographical coordinates. 😭 But when it’s my person? Completely different rules. Come here. Hold my hand while we’re walking. Put your arm around me while we’re sitting together. Kiss my forehead when you walk past me. Pull me closer when we’re falling asleep. Let me rest my head on you while we’re watching something. Suddenly all the physical closeness I normally find overwhelming becomes the thing that makes me feel safest. And maybe that’s because the intimacy isn’t really about being touched—it’s about who is touching you. Physical affection requires a level of comfort and trust that I don’t automatically have with everybody. So when I willingly let someone into that space, it means something. Obviously, everyone has different boundaries, and loving physical touch from a partner never means somebody is entitled to touch you whenever or however they want. Consent and comfort still matter even in the closest relationships. But there’s something beautiful about having one person whose touch your body recognizes differently. Everybody else gets the polite side hug. You get me reaching for your hand without thinking, moving closer to you in bed, putting my legs across yours on the couch, and wanting to be wrapped around you after the longest day imaginable. So yes, I hate being touched. Please don’t touch me. Unless you’re you. Then why are you sitting all the way over there? 😭

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Tuesday 25 August 2026 03:03:30 GMT