Sometimes I give off an impression to people that I don’t like physical touch. I suppose that is because sometimes I don’t like physical touch, but sometimes I do, and sometimes I crave it. I love handshakes, good solid handshakes. I’ve never been a big fan of hugs.
When I was a kid, a repeated piece of advice that I got from my parents when I played soccer was, “stay on your feet!” I got this advice because I fell down a lot. When someone from the other team would push me, even just a little, even if it was legal, I’d fall down. I didn’t realise why at the time, but looking back I’m pretty sure I was trying to get away for their touch. (No wonder I fell off a bridge to avoid being kissed, falling was my escape.) I play soccer now every Sunday with a group of friends. The thing is I don’t fall down anymore. These guys are some of my best buddies. I don’t mind if they push me; I push back. I trust them.