My family was never one for hugging it was one of those awkward signs of affection. It’s not that we didn’t love each other it’s just that we never hugged. In an odd way, the only people in my life that I hug is my children, my husband, and the odd farewell hug to my much-loved Mother.
It was the other day I faced two well-meaning hugging scenarios which I returned with awkward grace. The first was an acquaintance I hadn’t seen for a while dove into greet me with a hug. I mustered the best I could – I was frazzled, I went spastic, jumped away, recovered with a smile, moving forward with the conversation.
My husband was in the distance chuckling at the scenario. As I walked towards him “I know! She hugged me!”
He chuckled again…
The next day I met my cousin whom I haven’t seen for over fifteen years. He was a young sappy sprout who has decided to travel across the country to discover his freedom and find himself. We chatted over breakfast, got the scoop on the whole family, and listened to his future dreams.
As I dropped him off to his next destination he dove in to give me a farewell hug. I dove away! The best I could muster was a punch in the arm, “Go get them slugger! I hope you enjoy the rest of your trip!”
So I ask are you a hugger? Do you return the hug? Or do you find it an invasion of your personal space?