Sometimes loneliness is abuse. No, maybe all loneliness is. Our bodies, so carefully crafted in the dance between two, needs to feel the touch of another. And not even in a passionate way, but in a held hand or the feeling of a strong palm against your shoulder. Or if you accidentally nick yourself, the slight touches of someone bandaging you in a caring way can be all you need and send you into stability for weeks after. A hug from behind, the heaviness of someone sitting in your lap, the balance you have to maintain from someone leaning against you - all those things that keep us going. Loneliness is abuse. Being held and cared for through touch is a human right. Mammals need it. We were meant to be in communities that would sustain us through it. We need kisses on the cheek, and on the hand. We need a pat on the shoulder or a joking kick in the rear. If you don’t experience this, you are not connected. We are flesh of one another’s flesh. We touch to regulate. To be regulated is to be stable.
Sometimes loneliness is abuse. No, maybe all loneliness is. Our bodies, so carefully crafted in the dance between two, needs to feel the touch of another. And not even in a passionate way, but in a held hand or the feeling of a strong palm against your shoulder. Or if you accidentally nick yourself, the slight touches of someone bandaging you in a caring way can be all you need and send you into stability for weeks after. A hug from behind, the heaviness of someone sitting in your lap, the balance you have to maintain from someone leaning against you - all those things that keep us going. Loneliness is abuse. Being held and cared for through touch is a human right. Mammals need it. We were meant to be in communities that would sustain us through it. We need kisses on the cheek, and on the hand. We need a pat on the shoulder or a joking kick in the rear. If you don’t experience this, you are not connected. We are flesh of one another’s flesh. We touch to regulate. To be regulated is to be stable.
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