There is a place where I would warn anyone thinking about touching me there; that would not be wise. My history of experiencing touch has changed throughout the years. I don’t remember even getting hugs as a child. I had little to no body contact until the girlfriend and occasional boy get together days. Even then my experience was rather measly.
When the kids came along I made sure they got hugs and affection. All the affection and body contact I remembered getting when I was young was from the dog. I didn’t even have much experience with handshakes. They were even rare.
In about 1977 I attended a study group and as I was leaving the host gave me a hug. I think I must have been in a state of shock as it was for me totally unexpected and I didn’t know what to think. I attended other study groups and realized that hugging was the way some of the people said hello or goodbye. I was probably 36 or 37 and this was new to me.
Now, I am known for giving hugs. I am often asked for a hug. I, however, am seldom in situations where there is touching otherwise except in the bedroom or at home in every room and then, often. I doubt anyone thinks about touching me there and it doesn’t matter because it’s nice being touched everywhere else.
As I said usually I could be touched there, but on that rare occasion when my body reacts automatically and I can’t endure being touched there the potential isn’t pretty. So, I’m warning everyone who might now know my secret that they could be putting their life in danger. Don’t ever tickle my feet. If you do when I’m unaware, beware.
This could be genetic. My uncle got his nose broken when he tickled my mother’s feet when she was a little girl. I think I have the same instinct. “Don’t touch me there!”
© 21 April 2013
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