Hugs and trying to not be an @$$hole
I am a “hugger”. If you know me, you know this.
I believe in the deepest part of my being, that human touch is necessary and essential for the soul. And that hugging is a gateway to connecting. I’m not one for hugging every person I meet on the street, but if offered, I’ll most likely take it (unless there are creepy vibes involved, but that’s a discussion for another day).
Even when someone is initially hesitant, historically I’ve said “I give good hugs, I promise”. One friend in particular, who said they weren’t a “hugger” I told “how about once a year?” Because, you know…I’m all “soul-connection, good vibes, human touch, spread the positivity” girl and I want people to know there is enough love and goodness for us all to experience it abundantly.
Sounds kinda nice and “Heathery”, right? Sounds like the physical manifestation of the best intentions.
Here’s the thing…I was SO. WRONG.
You see, it wasn’t until I attended trainings on trauma informed care that I realized that while I saw what I was doing as nothing but good for other people, I may have been putting them in the position of being INCREDIBLY uncomfortable at best or re-traumatizing them at worst. I have had the privilege of not experiencing physical abuse that can cause that kind of trauma. I have the privilege of not having any kind of neurodevelopmental, physical or social disorders that make me want to crawl out of my own skin when touched. And I have the privilege of being capable of communicating clearly how I feel, without being judged for how well I may or may not do it.
All of a sudden I realized that I’ve been inviting myself into people’s personal spaces in the name of goodness for years! Possibly causing more damage than anything else. Horrible damage? Maybe not. But damage none the less, and I felt guilty. Terrible even. Then it came to me:
“Holy crap! People must think I’m such an ASSHOLE! OMG! What if I AM an asshole and just don’t know it?!? Even worse, what if I’ve taught my KIDS to do these asshole things?!?!"
And then I had a choice to make:
I could pretend I didn’t learn anything at those trainings, or that that information didn’t pertain to me, because, I mean…they were ONLY hugs. And it’s me…Heather! (Hurricane Heather to some!) And I LOVE people! I’ll just keep hugging away and anyone REALLY who doesn’t like it will let me know.
Or, I could acknowledge my privilege, make some changes in how I interact with folks and accept that I actually, am not, an asshole. I’m just someone who didn’t know something and now I do.
I went with the second one.
My privilege did not make me an asshole. My privilege allowed me to not have to think about the consequences of my interactions on people who didn’t share my life experience. Being aware of this privilege and continuing to take the chance that I was making someone else uncomfortable or adding to whatever hurt they’ve experienced, just so I would not have to change the way I do or say things, would have made me an asshole.
It will make you an asshole too if you let it.
