I am allergic to human intimacy. There, I said it. The first step is admitting you have a problem. I wouldn’t originally call this a problem, though most of my friends would beg to differ. They enjoy randomly hugging, nuzzling, and casually resting their heads on anyone with a heartbeat, whereas I strictly enforce the whole personal bubble thing. It is a known fact, among those who know me, that I will openly cringe if you randomly attempt to hug me. I have been known to tense up if you try to lean on me or sit too close, and cuddling is completely out of the question. None of these behaviors are done on purpose. I’ll flinch as a reflex, and most of the time I don’t even realize it.

I didn’t realize this was such a problem until my roommate pointed it out one day, laughing that I had tensed up when she gave me a hug. At the dinner table that night, the incident was discussed, and all of my friends agreed. Suddenly, it became a big joke that I was allergic to human intimacy and any kind of affection. When I brought it up to my friends back home, they also agreed that it was always a known problem, one in particular saying, “I always kept it to myself. You just sort of flinched every time I got too close.”

Though my friends may think otherwise, I’m definitely not incapable of showing affection. If I’m saying a heartfelt goodbye, I could hug someone for 20 minutes. If I’m watching a movie with someone I like, I could easily lean on their shoulder or hold hands (though cuddling is still a little iffy). If you’re really upset, I’m sure I’ll give you more than just an awkward pat on the back. The issue for me is the random displays of affection. If the situation doesn’t call for intimacy or affection, I don’t really find it necessary. While I could blame it on the fact that I’m just generally not a very touchy person, or try to give it a Freudian analysis of some childhood trauma causing me to have a fear of intimacy, I think the answer is pretty simple and it goes back to middle school.

Back in middle school my friends and I used to sit at the same picnic table after school every single day. When someone’s mom came to pick them up, that girl would go around the entire table and give a hug to each person. Eventually, I began to dread the end of the day because I was sick of hugging every single person before I could go home. It was more of a waste of time than anything, and I found that it took the meaning out of the hug itself. Hugging became a chore -- it would have been quicker to give everyone a high five, and it would mean the same thing.

To me, if you do something too much it can easily lose its meaning. I like to think of it this way: if I were to give a birthday card to someone every single day, then, when it’s actually their birthday, it wouldn’t mean anything. If I were to go around hugging everyone or cuddling or nuzzling each of my friends, it would have as much meaning as a high five or a thumbs up, and when they really need some affection it simply won’t mean as much. If I’m going to be affectionate to someone, I want it to mean something. It’s something I don’t show everyone and it is meant as a meaningful gesture. That wouldn’t be the case if I was overly affectionate to everyone, and I just don’t have enough energy to make that many hugs meaningful.

While this may seem a little strange, I really think this is the main reason why I’m just not a hugely affectionate person. I’m sure the fact that I’m not a touchy person has something to do with it, though I’m not really sure about the Freudian explanation. Regardless, I’m just not a big fan of random displays of affection and I think that’s okay. I’m not the only one who feels this way and I really hope you never take my cringing or flinching personally. Remember, it’s not you, it’s me.