Marco_Piunti/Getty Images
I was in a relationship and married for 19 years. During that time, I got very used to having someone physically around.
Something that surprised me when we unexpectedly divorced this year was how much I missed being touched. Humans need physical touch, and the sudden loss of it can be jarring, as I have recently experienced.
Many of us started thinking about touch starvation during the pandemic lockdown, which mandated social distancing. But this year has been especially difficult for me, and now I'm craving physical touch.
As an adult, I hadn't considered myself to be an especially touchy person, but in the early days of my divorce, I felt a skin-crawling desperation for touch. I missed hugs, cuddles, and casually leaning against someone while talking or walking.
Shortly after I found out I was getting divorced, two acquaintances gave me casual side hugs. Then, I had my six-month dental cleaning. The hygienist took one look at me, realized something was wrong, and gave me a hug. Then, the next week, an old friend came over to my house and hung out for hours just talking. That was the first real hug I'd had in weeks. I sank into his arms for a long time.
It was terrifying to wake up every day and realize I had no idea when I might be touched again by another person.
When I was a homeless queer teenager, I spent a lot of time in cuddle puddles with my friends. We would pile onto old couches in punk houses. We watched movies or curled up in bed together to talk for hours. This close platonic touch was a big part of how we bonded and survived.
Over the years, those friendships drifted away, and my new friends all touched less. We might exchange a hug when greeting, but we didn't exist with the level of platonic physical intimacy that seemed so natural in my late teens and early 20s.
Since my divorce, I've remembered how healing a platonic touch between friends can be. I find myself now seeking connections and deepening friendships with people who want to build platonically intimate friendships.
The people in my life now don't think twice about cuddling with me while we watch movies or just sit and talk. We never pass up the opportunity to hug each other close.
Most days, I don't touch anyone, but at least a few days a week, I know I'll see some close friends and get much-needed platonic physical contact.
Sex was never the glue that kept my ex-partner and me together. Our lack of sexual compatibility was no secret and was something I was at peace with. However, with my marriage over, I felt ready and excited to pursue the kind of sexual compatibility I had been missing.
Since separating, it has been nice to discover that other people find me as attractive as I find them. Sometimes, that attraction manifests in physical touch, and sometimes, it's just the warm glow of connection with long-distance friends.
Recognizing that touch could exist if we were in the same physical location is surprisingly satisfying. I'm often still touch-starved, especially with intimate touch, but I've found the mutual desire for touch to satiate that hunger most days.
When I learned I was getting divorced, my top priority was getting custody of my dog Sirius. After my ex-partner moved out, Sirius became significantly cuddlier. Now, it's rare for me to wake up without her sleeping on my bed. I think she knew I was touch-starved and needed the extra physical interaction I wasn't getting anywhere else.
This summer, after my divorce was finalized, I brought a new puppy home to join Sirius and me, making us a little household of three. This puppy would literally crawl into my skin if she could. While not the same as a hug from a friend, this level of enthusiastic, consistent physical interaction has been a game changer. Having dogs that are always cuddling up against me as I work or read has helped me feel less physically isolated day-to-day.
