I like a hug. I think we all do, but how many of us allow them or give them? If we don’t, what’s stopping us? As guys, maybe we see it as not the done thing. We’re happy to slap somebody on the back or shake their hand, but what about a proper, long, heartfelt hug?
I’ve been in the odd situation where I’d rather not get random hugs from people at the moment because my shoulder is still very sore. I was at my youngest daughter’s art exhibition opening the other night, and even though I don’t need to wear a sling, I put it on as a warning sign for people I might run into.
Last week I wrote that I was feeling glum. The shoulder surgery had knocked me around far more than I expected; the everyday loads of life kept piling up, and I’d been telling friends my battery was sitting at about 10%. Near the end of that piece, I mentioned those friends almost in passing. They turn up, they make time to be with me, and they give me hugs, because touch is important.
I suspect that, by the way, I’m part of a generation of older men for whom physical touch with people ended with a handshake. As a younger man, I can’t remember any particular regular physical touch from other men apart from my own family, and even then, I think that was fairly limited.
I have a clear childhood memory of sitting on the floor in front of the couch. Perhaps we were watching television. My dad sat on the couch behind me and ruffled my hair. I feel that memory of his touch is significant, perhaps because it wasn’t a regular occurrence and I really valued it.
Kory Floyd, a communication professor at the University of Arizona who has spent much of his career studying affection, has a name for what happens when it goes missing:
“So many people, I think, are feeling this experience that we sometimes call ‘skin hunger.’”
For those of us affected by the COVID pandemic a few years ago, which I guess is most of us, we weren’t supposed to hug anyone, but skin hunger has always been important. Thankfully, COVID has passed us now, pretty much, but I suspect some men go weeks without anyone touching them kindly unless there’s a significant event.
Yet, skin hunger needs touch. Without it, we create isolation, physical and emotional. Mark Greene, an American writer on masculinity, says:
“Put simply, touch isolation is making men’s lives less healthy and more lonely.”
There’s good evidence for this. A review of 130 studies involving around 10,000 people found touch reduces pain, depression, and anxiety. The hug, or the contact, doesn’t need to be long or elaborate either. Julian Packheiser, the leader of the study, says:
“Even a short hug has a positive impact.”
If you’re in the middle of this yourself, you’re not the only one. Plenty of men go a long stretch without a proper hug and find it hard to ask for one. I write about men, loneliness and the small ways back to connection most weeks. Subscribe to get the next one.
We hear a lot about consent these days, and quite rightly so. The study does note that touch still needs to be consensual.
“This led us to the conclusion that consensual touch improves the well-being of patients in clinical scenarios and healthy people alike.”
It’s important to understand that a hug does someone good when they want it. If you are touch-starved and reach out to pull people into your arms, you are just creating a new way for others to carry your needs.
Women, especially, have spent their whole lives managing touch they never asked for, whether it’s on public transport, out and about at clubs and pubs, or in the workplace. Quite rightly, they’re entitled to some caution. I’ve always been incredibly careful in the office environment; I know I am a bit touchy-feely these days, so I need to be careful when I reach out to someone with my hands, regardless of gender.
We are all entitled to our boundaries. I think of men who perhaps have grown up in a home environment where touch wasn’t safe, or others who might find it overwhelming for sensory reasons, and some who would simply rather have a firm handshake. It doesn’t make them any less warm to you.
The solution is super simple: ask, “Can I give you a hug?” Maybe open your arms and hands a little, rather than closing up yourself. Let the other person decide. If they say no, or maybe just reach out a hand, then great. Now you know how they’d like to receive touch. You can shake their hand or give them a hug.
So we can ask for a hug, or we can offer a hug. When offering, we need to ask the other person if they’re happy to receive, but there are also days when we need a hug. When touch is important to us, that’s probably the harder thing for a guy. Maybe you feel like it’s exposing something about you, maybe a way you’re feeling, but I think it’s completely fine to say to another guy, “Hey, actually, I could just really do with a hug.”
DO YOURSELF A FAVOUR
That was Molly Meldrum’s line, and it still holds up. You’re reading Alone Rangers for free, that’s not changing. But a paid subscription keeps it free for everyone else and puts a few dollars behind work that’s trying to say something true about loneliness and connection.
Men need to touch each other, consensually obviously. IMO they’re so scared of being perceived as ‘gay’ that they have limited ways to engage in physical touch, pleasure, affection for each other. They use women to fill that void (usually badly, because it’s not reciprocal at the same level of depth and care)