When you’re so afraid of bad touch that you pull away from everyone,
you end up with no touch and miss out on the good touch
that might have healed the pain and hurt from the bad touch.
I can’t prove it and neither can you, but I think you’ll agree with me that our skin has a memory separate from our minds of Good Touch, Bad Touch and No Touch.
No Touch – when you sleep on opposite sides of the bed with your backs to each other with one partner dead asleep and the other staring into the darkness thinking, “What am I doing here?” when it’s easier to have sex than it is to kiss; when you walk in the world one moment hoping no one will speak to you or touch you and the next moment feeling painfully alone.
Bad Touch – being hit in anger; honking your horn and yelling at that elderly driver who probably shouldn’t be driving or being that older person who shouldn’t be driving; being ridiculed; being looked at with disdain, disgust or repulsion from someone who once liked, cherished, admired, respected and even loved you; the moment you get up out of bed to sleep in a separate bedroom from your partner because you don’t want to feel angrier at them.