I was talking to Bethany and Bobby about Bobby's personal bubble (the name of my new band, haha) and came to the conclusion there is a BIG difference between being a close-talker and enjoying a close physical proximity.
I want you near me, don't stand so close to me.
I like people close to me. Sit by me, climb onto my lap, throw your legs over me, sit on my legs, snuggle into my side, hold my hand while we drive! (My 12yo niece Caroline laughs at me because of the weird way I hold her hand while we're driving. She took pictures of it last time.) Don't sit across the room when we're watching TV, sit by meeeeeeee. (I used to bug Ryan about that. "Why are you allllllll the way over there?")
But I don't like close-talkers. Back up, sir.
I've become a touchy person. I've become a hugger.
I never expected that to happen.
We were never a touchy family. I don't remember ever hugging each other. My grandpa would grab us into a squeezey hug from behind. We were hugged, we didn't instigate.
Because of that I always felt weird when friends hugged me. Uhhh...stop touching me. Like, now. I mean it. Hahaha
It really didn't help that I was like a foot taller than my friends, that makes for so awkward hugs (or what they really were: intrusions into my bubble.)
I'm new to being a hugger so I am still working on the rules of appropriateness. I wrapped my leg around the girlfriend of a friend upon our first introduction. No, really...oops. That was a reflex. (I'm pretty sure she still thinks I'm weird.)
I'm still learning arm placement and that maybe I shouldn't run up to people, throw my arms around their neck and squeeze the life out of them.
I've learned I don't like awkward squeeze-your-upper-arm side hug that some friends and Great Aunts do. And I learned wimpy hugs are like limp handshakes: everyone feels weird about it afterward.
Come on, I'm not fragile (ha!) act like you mean it.
**creepy smiley wink**