Hug Me

I am sitting in the basement by the light of a lamp that should have never survived the 50's, crocheting a gift that I hope will bring a smile to someone's face. In the midst of twining yarn around my fingers I thought about the joy I was hoping to bring to others and how I just wanted to be surrounded by this joy. It occurred to me that it has been a very long time since I have been hugged. And things are bad in my family right now, so it's been a long time since I've even hugged someone in my family.

I'm not talking about one of those quick hugs, I mean a hug where you pull someone close and embrace them tightly and just stand there holding on to each other for a while. A hug that makes you feel wanted. A hug where you feel like you are giving some of yourself to the other. A hug that lets each person know that they truly mean something to each other.

I miss hugs where I can stay in the embrace and have a conversation. Hugs where I just melt into someone. Hugs that protect, so I can close my eyes and breathe deeply. A hug where I can lay my head on someone's shoulder and not say anything at all.

I was never held as a child. I wasn't the child the people passed around and oogled over. I was the one that no one really wanted around, the one who was a bother, the disgrace. So I had to learn to grow thick skin and fend for myself. In many ways it has made me the person that I am and in other ways, it is working against me.

I know a lot of the reason is my own fault. I suffer from a warped grasp of the golden rule where I believe that I should treat people the way I want to be treated, but I shouldn't expect to actually be treated that way in return. I'll fight for other people to be treated fairly but I let myself be forgotten time and time again. It's fine… I'm tough. This scaly flesh is exceptional camouflage to hide behind. And I've withstood for so long that people just assume that I can withstand forever.

I'm not superman.

But changing assumptions is not an easy task. So I continue to pretend that I have nerves of steel. "Dignified" is the word my professors used. If I should break for others to see, then there is nothing stopping them from pealing away my scales and exposing me to harsh abuse. I don't ask people to hug me because I don't want to show that I am weak. I would never deny a hug, I just don't really put myself out there to receive one. I would never ask for something that someone doesn't want to give willingly. I brush it off. Thanks isn't something that one should have to ask for, it should be earned. And if I haven't earned it, then I need to do better. (At least that's what my skewed grasp of the gold tells me)

I have many friends and acquaintances, but just a small collection of people who have been able to see past my scales to all my imperfections and love me for each and every one of them. These are the people I hope to hold close to me for the rest of my life. They are far too far away and I miss them dearly. All I can do is embrace my pillow and wish that it had arms to hold me back.




All I want for Christmas… is a hug.







CLOSING THOUGHT: I've heard girls say they're tough because they've been raised as the only girl in a family of boys. Try being a girl raised in a family of girls and having to forfeit your femininity to act as the only boy.