Monday, 15 April 2013

hugs and pushes

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. 

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