It recently came to my attention that I was going to great lengths to avoid physical contact with people. None of my friends or co-workers are really touchy-feely, but sometimes a bunch of us pile into the backseat of a car, or we all cram in around a table in the restaurant or something, and I realized that it’s not the end of the world if my thigh is pushed up against someone else, or if my shoulder presses against theirs. And I made a special effort to experiment with touching people (not strangers–friends) gently on the arm to get their attention, or to give a hug to a very close friend when she needed some sympathy. And, hey, nothing bad happened. In fact, I’m less tense around people in general.
I don’t know why I was so flinchy about in the past. I don’t think my family was particularly cold or stand-offish. Must have something to do with the whole tortured-geek thing that happened during adolescence.
Generally, I’m not a touchy-feely person. I have a few friends and even one or two acquaintances that I will hug, but I’m very comfortable with them. (My family, being the lucky souls that they are, get hugs all the time. They have no choice in the matter. Bwahaha.) Other people, not so much. Shaking hands is not something that comes up very often in my life, but I’m usually okay with that. However, I don’t like people who just stand right up next to me that I don’t know. I don’t know you and you’re certainly not going out of your way to introduce yourself, so kindly move away from me! How can someone not notice when I’m practically sprinting backwards to get away from them?
However, my personal space needs change with my mood. If I’m upset, I don’t want anyone to touch me, not even a quick brush of a coat sleeve against my arm. I’ve started hyperventilating and crying in the middle of public places because I’m upset, it’s crowded, and people won’t stop touching me, even by accident. If I’m really nervous, I tend be a social butterfly, wandering around hugging everyone and giggling. Very easy to shock people that way.
I’m very much not a toucher. Even when I was a child my mother used to complain that when I flinched away it was like I’d been abused (I hadn’t been). I’ve been known to reflexively punch people who touched me when I wasn’t expecting it, including a co-worker who came up behind me and was trying to tuck a tag in my shirt. I swung around and knocked her arm away with my elbow and was following up with my fist. Fortunately, I didn’t punch her with my fist. I try to sit in an isolated spot at Mass because peole have this relatively new habit of holding hands during the Our Father. I can tolerate this if I have to, as long as they don’t move at my face or too quickly. I can hug people I know and trust, although I don’t particularly like it.
I grew up in NYC. I have a very small but intensely guarded area of personal space. It pretty much contains my actual body, with little or no space around it. On a subway, bus, mall, everyone pretends like they’re not squashed up against one another; that’s ok. However, I DO NOT LIKE people intentionaly touching me, even people I know fairly well.
For example, one time I was in a mild argument with an aquaintence. He tried to reach around me from behind to remove something from my hands. My “you are in my space” alarms went off, and I nailed him with an elbow to the kidneys so hard it knocked him down.
Another time my housemate and I were talking, and I was saying how stressed I was. Without asking if it was okay, he started to rub my shoulders (I find him in no way threatening). I screamed STOP! and realy scared the crap out of him.
I just don’t like people touching me is all. I’m a “problem hugger” even with family (it always ends up feeling awkward and forced.)
I’m very comfortable around people, but I cant stand when a complete stranger hovers over me. Luckily I have no qualms ‘regulating’ someone if need be.
I also need huge amounts of personal space. The amount shrinks as the amount of available room shrinks (so crowds aren’t really a problem) but when there aren’t space limitations, I think I need more personal space than most people I know.
I’m also not a hugger. I have a few friends who are huggers, andn therefore have gotten used to it from them, and from situations where hugging is expected. I prefer handshakes. I also don’t like the arm touches - it doesn’t make me feel connected to the toucher, it makes me more and more tense, and I start plotting ways to get far enough away I can’t be touched anymore. I’ve never actually injured anyone, but I did once run into a wall trying to keep a comfortable distance between me and a touchy/huggy person (who then tried to console me with a hug & the wall was still in the only way of escape).
Don’t touch my face. Don’t even move your hand toward me like you are going to touch my face. I will unconsciously flinch backwards like I think you’re going to hit me (and yes, I know when and how this started. Psycho the ex was a joy.)
But I’ve never been a toucher or a hand holder. I avoid holding hands in church - when it comes to the Our Father time in Mass, I’ve got my hands clasped behind my back.
Generally, my personal space area is pretty big. Things like the train and such aren’t a big deal, most of the time - though that can get to me occasionally too.
For statistics sake, how many Dopers who live in the city guard their personal space in this way? I live in a very rural area, but spend quite a bit of time in metropolitan areas after the school year is over. I don’t mind crowds and packed places, so long as the touching isn’t intentional - like a few other posters, concerts, public transportation, and things of that sort don’t annoy me, because no-one is making an effort to invade my bubble - it just happens.
Also, is this a uniquely American attitude? Are there many European or otherwise overseas Dopers who share the same view?
I’m not a flinchy, non-touchy person and I don’t actively gaurd my personal space, but aggressive huggers/hand-shakers are a big pet peeve of mine. You know, the people who automatically assume it’s ok to touch you and then squeeze the breath out of your lungs or cut off the circulation in your neck or hands. That type of hugging is way too aggressive for me. My husband’s family is like this and I usually go out of my way to avoid having any physical contact with them. When I do have to hug them (to avoid hurt feelings) I feel awkward and bruised.
I also hate strangers who touch my hair. For instance in junior high and high school, inevitably the person sitting in back of me, usually a girl, would touch my long, curly hair. They would comb it with their fingers, braid it, compliment me on it’s color and texture, and I, not wanting to be a bad guy and interfere with feminine bonding rituals, would just take it. It’s like they never saw curly hair before and needed to play with it to determine it was not a mirage. In my opinion, it’s never ok to touch someone without explicit permission to do so.
I used to work with someone who was a toucher. Everyone else knew not to touch me, but she couldn’t seem to not put her hand on my arm or shoulder. Finally I just said “Laurie, I can see that you’re a toucher. (the hand starts to move away) I’m not. And sometimes I punch.” She never touched me again, although she had to stop herself no and again.
I’m not all up in arms about the personal space thing--------HAH!!! “Up in arms” That’s pretty funny…okay, maybe not.
ANYway, the only thing that REALLY smokes me is people standing 6 inches behind me at the ATM while 'm using it. I’ve seen a few ATM’s that actually have lines painted on the ground that say "Waiting customers please stand behind this line). Of course the people who ignore that dictum are always the ones who stand RIGHT on top of you.
And another thing is that they are ALWAYS men. ALWAYS. Maybe it’s some kind of dominant male bullshit thing, but I’ve scared a few of them off with an SBD or too. Also, turning and saying in thru my teeth, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer!” helps, as does the fact that I kinda look like “Stone Cold” Steve Austin.
Romola, I feel your pain. Believe me, I do. My hair is short, semi-glossy black spikes, which, in my area, are not terribly uncommon. I don’t have any qualms about ruining whatever “bonding” might be going on, though. Recently, I was in an exchange something like this:
Obnoxiously Touchy Girl: (pats my hair for the fourth time in a week)
Me: (pulling away) “Do you know how annoying that is?”
OTG: (giggles) “No.”
Me: “It’s REALLY f*cking annoying. Don’t do it again.”
OTG “Ummm…”
I completely agree that touching is something one should only do with explicit permission. Keep your damn hands to yourself.
I hate to have my face touched too. And my rear (did I mention that already?). And while I don’t mind my husband running his hands through my hair, I HATE having my head rubbed–you know, like you might rub a dog’s head.
And I do have a thing about people standing behind me when I’m at my desk. When I taught, I was really upfront with my students…All the hugs you want or need, but Don’t Stand Behind Me at My Desk!!!
And definitely, some of this is assault related–the don’t-stand-behind-me thing in particular, and the way I hate someone unexpectedly getting in my space from that angle. Creeps me out.
I need at least a foot with most people. When people get too close to me in line or at the ATM, I turn and ask them to back up. I’ve been known to tell someone to “step the fuck up off me.”
With people who are genuinely endeared to me, however, they can be as touchy-feely as they want. I still sit in my dad’s lap, put my head in my mom’s lap, occasionally share a single bed with my brother, and let my sister play with my hair. I love to hug my friends. Hugs are fantastic. But sometimes I wish I were less of a hugger because I have male students who I would hug everyday if I could because they are so precious to me, but I can’t out of the social stigma of teacher/student touching. At Christmas, I gave all my kids little goodie bags with candy, pencils, etc., and my favorite student, who happens to be a boy, said, “I’d hug you, Ms. Shrew, but I’m probably not allowed.” I almost cried. He actually planned his End-of-Year hug for me. He waited until school was completely out, finals were over, and I was no longer his official teacher.
Oddly though, I have a very dear friend who I don’t ever want touching me. Every time she accidently brushes my arm or bumps into me, my skin crawls. I feel really bad about it, but for some reason physical contact with her GROSSES ME OUT. I even get nauseous when she talks about sex with her SO. Blech.
I was raised in a demonstrative family, so there is always lots of hugging and cheek kissing when arriving or leaving. In busiiness, a handshake is a generally accepted form of social introduction, and if you shake hands with a limp, weak grip it will be noticed. I’m not saying that your handshake has to be bone-crushing (note to graduates of VMI, the Academies, and some other schools that seem to instill this in their graduates), just a firm, shake of the hands. For close friends I may also put my other hand over the hand shake when arriving or leaving.
What I can’t abide is the proverbial “close talker.” I once worked with a guy who was very nice in every other respect, but he felt that he had to get RIGHT IN YOUR FACE to talk. The problem was compounded by the fact that he had horrendous breath (he drank lots of coffee and smoked, and the combination was lethal) and teeth like Austin Powers. I always managed to keep a desk between he and I if at all possible.
I grew up in a divided family. My mother is very huggy, touchy and my father is completely non touching aside from the occasional kiss on the cheek. I’m a huggy touchy person with people I feel safe, my husband and children, my mother, my brother, two very good friends and an aunt. With strangers and aquaintances, hand shaking is OK if you do it right, but hugging is OUT. No touching while talking. And what IS it with people behind you in line? Because your not facing them they think it’s OK to violate personal space? I HATE this! I never have the nerve to tell them to back off, though someday I may hit one when I just can’t stand it anymore.
I strongly value my personal space. If I touch you first, or invite you to touch me, then you can. But don’t launch yourself at me without warning. You might find yourself crashing into a furniture because I’ve swiftly moved aside.
People are either in my touch-circle, or they aren’t. My family hugs and kisses on saying hello and goodbye, but really, at no other time. I love giving and receiving hugs, but only with people whom I genuinely like. My current boyfriend is a big public toucher, and I’m learning to enjoy it, but for years I would barely hold hands with lovers in public. It takes a long time for someone to get inside the circle.
Dopefests can be uncomfortable for me, because there are many Dopers who are touchy-feely huggers, lapsitters, and :eek: gropers. I’ve had my breasts fondled & photographed (without permission), I’ve had people launch themselves without warning into my lap for a photo-op (only to find out that my lap has turned into a “slide”, and they are now on the floor). Don’t touch me, people.
People behind me in line, or people who come behind my desk, or stand too close to me at the bus stop make me want to crawl out of my skin. I was mugged and beaten once by someone who grabbed me from behind, and anyone violating my personal space from behind nearly activates my fight or flight.
Another retail worker who hates the customers touching him checking in.
I can’t stand anybody except racinchikki touching me, actually. There was one girl at school who would hug me (and other people, but especially me) without warning or reason, even after being asked to stop. She had no idea why I was uncomfortable with that. :rolleyes:
In my experience, touchy feely people don’t get why someone would NOT be touchy-feely. I had a friend in college who hated to be touched, and it sucked for him because half the girls I knew were in love with him, so they were always trying to hug or touch him. One time, we went camping together, and he went swimming in a leech-infested creek. I had to pick leeches off of him for over an hour, all through his hair, ALL over his body. I think he was more horrified by the body search than the actual leeches. Even now when I see him every other year or so, I always allow him to initiate hugs. The point of the story, however, is that when I tried to explain to my mother not to touch or hug him, she assumed that he had been sexually molested as a child, which I thought was an unfair jump to make.
She just doesn’t “get” it, despite the fact that she’s not that touchy-feely either.
