The Girl Who Hated Hugs

Confessions of a Late Bloomer Part 4

When I was younger, I hated hugs.

It’s not like I grew up in a house without affection. But somewhere along the way, a hug became something that made me freeze. Like my body forgot what to do. Arms stiff. Heart racing. Eyes wide. I would default to the awkward back-pat, like I was congratulating someone on a good game instead of returning their affection.

And yet… my friends didn’t stop hugging me.

In high school, I had a small group of close friends who made it their personal mission to crack me open. They’d run up and wrap me in full-body embraces, cheeky grins, zero hesitation, like love wasn’t something to be negotiated.

They hugged me like they knew I needed it, even if I didn’t know how to receive it.

I wanted to hug them back. I really did. I wanted to be warm and reciprocal, open and easy. But somewhere between the desire and the motion, my body got confused. I worried it came across like rejection. Like, I didn’t care. Like I didn’t feel what they felt.

But they didn’t take it that way. They didn’t stop.
And because of them, something in me softened. Slowly, over time, I stopped recoiling. The hugs stopped feeling foreign. They started to feel like safety.

Sometimes we learn connection backwards, by first learning what pushes us away.

Now I look back and realize how rare that kind of persistence is. How easy it would’ve been for those girls to take my awkwardness personally. To stop reaching out when I didn’t reach back. To protect themselves from what might have felt like rejection.

But they didn’t.

And now, all the people who hug me today, who don’t feel me flinch or pull away, they owe a quiet thank-you to the teenage girls who wouldn’t give up on hugging the girl who hated hugs.

It’s wild how much we crave connection… while simultaneously backing away from the very thing we want.

We guard our hearts. We fear being too much or not enough. We long to be loved, but we’ve been taught to expect abandonment. So we hesitate. We play it cool. We keep people at a safe distance, even when we’re desperate to be known.

But love doesn’t thrive in distance. It finds its way in through closeness. Through awkward tries. Through small, consistent gestures that say, You’re safe here, even when you don’t quite believe it yet.

I’m still learning that. Still learning to meet people halfway with open arms and a soft heart.

But I’m getting there.

One hug at a time.

Always,
Your Trusted Friend ❤️