Alright, let’s talk about this whole “intimate touching” thing. It’s not just holding hands or, you know, the stuff you see in movies. Honestly, it’s a minefield. Most folks, myself included for a long time, stumble through it like they’re walking in the dark. We think we know, but we really don’t. It’s about way more than just the physical act; it’s the timing, the person, the vibe – all of it.
I’ve seen so many people get it wrong. Like, spectacularly wrong. You’ve got the folks who are all over you, thinking they’re being friendly, but really, they’re just making your skin crawl. Then you’ve got the opposite, people who are so stiff you’d think they’d shatter if you accidentally brushed their arm. And don’t even get me started on trying to figure out what’s okay with who. Is a hug okay? A pat on the shoulder? It changes from person to person, situation to situation. It’s a mess out there, a real awkward dance most of the time.
So, how did I end up “practicing” this, or even noticing it so much?
Well, it wasn’t like I signed up for a course or anything. My “practice” was more like being thrown into the deep end and trying not to drown. I used to work at this place, a pretty casual office, or so I thought. The lines around personal space and, yeah, “intimate touching,” were super blurry. It wasn’t malicious, mostly, just… clueless. Some managers would do the whole hand-on-the-shoulder thing while talking to you, a bit too long, a bit too firm. Some colleagues would go for a hug goodbye every single day, even if you clearly weren’t a hugger.
My “practice” started out as pure survival. I began watching people. Really watching. I’d see who leaned in, who flinched. I’d notice the almost invisible signals people gave off when they were uncomfortable. It became a sort of internal data-gathering exercise. I wasn’t trying to become a master of intimate touch myself; heck no. I was trying to figure out how to navigate everyone else’s often clumsy attempts and how to make sure I wasn’t the one making someone else uncomfortable. It was exhausting, actually.
I remember this one guy, super enthusiastic, meant well, I think. But he was a close-talker and a constant arm-grabber. You’d be trying to explain something, and he’d grab your forearm to make a point. My “detailed process” for him involved learning to subtly pivot, or to hold a coffee cup like a shield. It sounds ridiculous, but that was my reality. My “records” from that time aren’t written down in a notebook; they’re etched in my memory as a series of cringeworthy moments and small victories when I managed to sidestep an awkward encounter.
There was also the time I tried to comfort a coworker who was upset. I awkwardly patted her back, and she just froze. Total misfire on my part. That went into the “record” too. A big, red-flagged entry. It taught me that sometimes, the best “touch” is no touch at all. Just being there, listening, can be way more intimate and helpful than any physical gesture.
So, my whole “practice” wasn’t about becoming some sort of touchy-feely guru. It was about learning to read the room, respect boundaries (mine and others’), and realizing that “intimate” doesn’t always mean physical. Sometimes, the most profound connections happen with no touching at all. And honestly, navigating that is a skill I’m still working on. It’s a constant learning process, and the “records” just keep piling up.
