I had a dream last night where I was a at a restaurant. At the table next to me, there was a tall man. He heard I was a “hugger” and came over get a hug. I said, “Hold on a minute!” I wasn’t ready for this hug; I wanted to slow down the interaction. He paused briefly and then came at me again for a hug. “Hold on!” I said. This was so awkward. He tried two more times until he finally heard me and stopped.
Later in the dream, I am standing on a box or something so that I can be as tall as he is and we are hugging with consent. He starts to cry because my saying No to him earlier was painful. I don’t feel guilty for saying No, I feel compassion for his experience. I know that this sadness can be a growth experience for him if he chooses to see it that way.
At Cuddle Sanctuary, we practice being gracious when a person says No to us. The phrase we suggest saying is “Thank you for taking care of yourself.” We aren’t the first to coin that phrase. It’s been passed among groups that honor consent. I’m grateful to whomever made it up because the phrase says so much. It says that sometimes the most important thing a person can do for themselves is set a boundary. Thanking someone for setting a boundary with me requires ninja level maturity. It gets me out of my ego and reminds me that this other person in front of me has needs. And sometimes those needs are distance. From me.
One night in my mid-twenties, I was sitting on a couch with the man I was dating – Justin. I was feeling really low about myself. I wanted proof that Justin loved me so that I could feel worthy. At the time, I thought that the only way to prove love was through sex. I leaned in to kiss him. Justin put his index finger on my forehead to stop me. He knew that this kiss wasn’t from a place of affection or passion for him. It was my own desperation. At the time, I felt humiliated and shocked that my touch was rebuffed. In hindsight, I’m grateful.
Justin saw through my ruse that night. He knew that I was trying to sexualize my feelings and he didn’t want to participate. When he rejected my touch, I had to sit there with myself and my sadness. Eventually I found a recovery program that helped me to untangle my mental wiring about love and sex. I stayed in that program for six years. It was moments like the one I had with Justin that helped me realize I needed support.
It’s been 20 years since Justin put his finger to my forehead. Back then I didn’t thank him, I just wept. Now I’d like to say, “Hey Justin. Thank you for taking care of yourself! I’m getting so good at boundaries that I’m setting them all the time– even in my dreams.”