Affection

I’m pretty sure there hasn’t been a time when your comments have meant more to me. To see yourselves reflected back at me, makes me feel so much less alone on this journey.

My word came up today and I admit, I kicked it around for awhile. I looked it up and then almost thought about skipping it and coming back to it another day. There is a whole list of other words on that page that I could have easily wrote about, but I think that because this one was so hard for me, I would take it on.

So, I put my head on my pillow, because it seems like no matter whenever I do that, my mind begins to race and I have hundreds of things I can focus on. I thought about the word affection and all the places it has taken me.
I fell asleep thinking about my mother.

When I woke up and read your comments and the poem from the unknown author, I knew that I was going to have to write about it.

I’ve always been an affectionate person. As a teenager, I was the girl that had no problem locking arms and sitting on your lap. I loved people. I was never afraid that they would reject me. If I saw someone that was stand offish, be it a girl or a guy…I would go over and slowly worm myself into your personal space before you realized I was in it. When I left, I would give you a hug. People want to be accepted and showing affection was healing to me and to them.

My mom is a hand holder. To this day, if we are out walking around, she will grab my hand, pull me close, put her head on my shoulder and tell me she loves me. It’s a given. I was blessed with being able to accept affection.

Of course, as I got older I realized that affection could be taken several different ways. What was once cute playing, was now flirting. What was comforting others, was now ‘coming on’ to them. What was once so easy to enter someone’s bubble was taking effort. Why had all the sudden people put up these walls? What is this thing called ‘baggage’?

I spent many years being standoffish around people, not knowing if this person was going to reject me or make me feel stupid.
Being married pretty much put a stop to any sort of affection I could display. Then something wonderful happened. My friend Bryan moved in. He was gay and just as bouncy, trouncey lovable as I was. He would run up to me and hug me while squealing, “Krissy Pooh!”.

Then Kara was born and all the love and affection I had went into to her. To be able to kiss her toes and talk crazy to her was like a rebirth in myself. She would giggle at me if I attacked her tummy with kisses. How great was this? Someone who will soak up all this affection I have been holding back.

For the last 14 years I have found that being affectionate doesn’t make me a ‘tease’ or is a promise of something else. It’s just me. I love to hug.

I can honestly say I have busted through some walls with people. It’s amazing how much a hug can help someone. It’s actually pretty easy, “I’m sorry…I’m a hugger.” and go in for the kill.

There is a little something I do have to bring up. I hate the fake affection person. You know what I’m talking about? the person who just gets in there and gets up in your your face and wants to be your best friend and won’t leave you alone. It take a long time to be on my ‘best friend’ status list.
Does that just contradict everything I just wrote?
What’s your stand on affection? Do you have walls or do you break them down?