I live in an aggressively “touchy-feely” culture. It iinvades my personal space and comfort zone by its incessant insistence on hugging and patting and tapping. Strangers think it’s okay to touch my arm or clasp their hands to my back. Colleagues in the office are convinced they’re in the right when they randomly hug me or throw their arms over my shoulders. Even friends sometimes forget and go too far, hugging for too long. I don’t like it. By nature I’m not terribly physically affectionate. With trauma tacked on I’m especially reluctant to get close to others.
Because many (if not most) human beings are somewhat physical creatures it can be hard to accept that we have to keep our hands off others. I recognize that and usually make pretty solid allowances for others who touch me. On the first go-around I try to kindly accept a hug or pat on the back. Then I like to quickly establish boundaries, such as “Please don’t touch me,” or “Please ask before you touch me.” It’s my concession to a world that likes physical touch, even though I often believe on a personal (and professional) level that others should have to ask me for permission rather than wait for my denial of their access. Hands off, okay? Nonetheless I do what I can to hold myself in control when touched unawares. (File under: practice at dealing with reactions.)
Touching is so confusingly accepted as a natural norm in society. Or it falls under the jurisdiction of “I’m okay with it so you should be also.” (A highly unfair proposition.) I stumbled upon a discussion of “everyday sexual assault” and though the conversation originates in a country that is not my own I think there is a universal quality of understanding in the kinds of things being reported back. The people talking talk about an ongoing, routine violation of their bodily space that they would never previously have referred to as anything beyond “annoyance” or “upsetting.” The classification of “everyday sexual assault” in and of itself brings to light new terminology that seems to have aided many of those in discussion.
Note that the conversation still centers around this being the domain of women, though. We talk about advancement and equality and liberating ourselves from unwanted touch and still we frame the issue as being a woman’s problem, brought on by men. What about women who are touched by other women? (This happens to me routinely, actually. Women think because it’s “just us girls” they’re allowed to place hands or hug or nuzzle or run their hands up and down the fabric of my clothing.) What about men who are hurt by women? (Women grab asses, they pinch and tweak and grope as well.) Or men who are touched by men when they don’t want to be touched? (To put this in cultural normative terms, we could talk about back slaps or hand shakes but there is absolutely nothing to make this conversation end there.) I know I harp on it a lot but unwanted touch is unwanted touch. Gender and sexual orientation don’t matter if someone touches you when you don’t want to be touched. The issue is a social one.
Many people have a hard time referring to an ass grab as a sexual assault. I think I understand why. It’s the same mentality that tells you that a hug that feels wrong somehow is something to just be ignored. The truth is, though, you shouldn’t ignore acts which invade your personal space against your will. While we might not generally put a rape on the same plane as a repeated caress of the back or arm, those two acts are nonetheless examples of bodies and boundaries being disrespected and people being hurt. I want to see more inclusive language as a result but I think the push to show that “small” acts of assaultive behavior are wrong is a good one.
As for me, I suffer from PTSD symptoms (as is discussed in this blog) so being touched from behind when not expecting it can be enough to make me jump up on the defensive, ready to run and take cover. I know that I don’t like to feel (as I term it) pressed in by certain kinds of touching and the act of someone laying hands on my shoulders can make me shake in an otherwise safe setting. I think about those feelings and think about other unwanted touch, such as people insisting on hugs or sliding hands over my chest in public places. That horrible feeling of uncontrollable shaking (born of trauma) is something I don’t want anyone else to experience. So hands off.
the black window 