Underrated Hugs
Image: Elahveyini Aswaththaman
Recess ends, and the bells ring.
My friends are about to part ways, so they do the usual. Hopefully they won’t approach me this time. “ELAH!” My friends reach out to pull me into their arms. I reciprocate, but I quickly lean backwards before their chest could touch mine—everyone bursts into laughter.
People thought I hated hugs, but that wasn’t the case. The truth is I didn’t know how to. Hugs are such a foreign concept in my household. It often confused me when I saw some of my Tamil friends hug their parents. I had assumed that giving hugs were not a part of Tamil culture. Hugs were reserved for awkward family pictures, where my relatives would force me to pose with my parents—creating a false image far from how my family truly is. Outside of these awkward family photos, after the age of 12, my parents have only hugged me a few times. Three times to be specific.
It was made clear to me that hugs were saved for milestones, achievements or absolute distress. In a world where my parents had to continuously work and made to feel as though they could not pause to hug their kids or each other, making time for physical intimacy felt like wasted time. Hugs felt like a luxury. Something that was supposed to be unconditional became entirely transactional.
All my life, I pretended that I did not need hugs because I had convinced myself that I was stronger without them. But in reality, I was too scared to open myself to the possibility of learning such a concept of intimacy I was not familiar with. I would physically push people away when they hugged me. Similar to those times during elementary school recesses, I panicked, and I mentally and physically had to prepare myself before each hug. Hugs are supposed to feel safe, but for me, they did not. Once I entered university, hugs led to coerced touches from those I had trusted. This only pushed me backwards and further into despair.
Navigating physical intimacy on my own caused me so much pain. It wasn’t something WikiHow could teach me overnight. Beyond the trouble it caused to my own self-love, it hurt me to see my friends upset, unable to provide them comfort with a simple hug. Especially to those who were also deprived of hugs, the ones who felt the same as me. It was odd; despite the absence of hugs, my bond with these friends remain the strongest. Sitting in silence, side by side, trying to hold back all the tears built up from years without physical affection, we did not know what to say or do. That was all we could do in these moments. It was only recently that we became vocal about our physical needs, and our journey to understanding what being physically intimate entailed.
Hugs are such a powerful and often undervalued form of physical intimacy. The absence of hugs has caused so much trauma and confusion in navigating this aspect of my life. It is without a doubt that physical intimacy has been a challenge for me over the years. I wish I could tell my younger self that I was worthy enough to receive hugs for just being me. Physical intimacy is more than just learning about the physical aspects; it is also about regularly reassuring myself of my self-worth. I thought it was silly when my friend suggested grounding techniques to overcome this challenge until I started trying it out myself. Whether it be continually reminding myself that I am loved regardless of the lack of physical affection experienced in my life, or reminding myself that I am safe despite being violated by people I had once trusted, these methods have significantly helped me. A nurturing hug has the power to make you feel safe and gives you a sense of hope that everything will be okay. So I remind myself every day, I will be okay.
