“Physical touch” people feel starved of daily connection

Google “friends love language” or “how to show friends you care using their love language” and you get a myriad of ideas for the other four: gifts — easy, words of affirmation — why not?, quality time — of course!, and acts of service — sure!

But when it comes to “touch,” there’s only one suggestion, which comes up again and again: give a hug “hello,” and another when you say “bye!” (Maybe an extra thrown in if they’re feeling particularly low.)

But that’s it.

And while that may seem like enough, the reality is that these rushed, empty gestures aren’t meaningful, and leave others feeling limp-hearted.

Half-assed hugs and handshakes aren’t cutting it

Many adults (especially those in U.S. culture; we’ll get to that) just don’t touch each other. When we do, it’s rigid and brief: a side hug, a quick pat and release, a handshake, a tap on the shoulder.

If we treated other love languages as casually with friends, family, or colleagues as we do touch…

Quality Time: hanging out for mere seconds, during which you do not maintain eye contact or discuss anything that might imply or inspire connection beyond a cursory level, and leaving before anything builds

Gifts: tossing the same superficial, meaningless item to everyone in your life as you walk by without caring about their reaction

Acts of Service: half-assing help absentmindedly, wandering off when it’s “good enough” but before it’s to even a fraction of their satisfaction

Words of Affirmation: regurgitating the same empty phrase to every person in your life; the affirmation equivalent of “how are you?” in which your words culturally are not meant to be taken as genuine

This is the equivalent of “touch” offered in most non-romantic relationships.

And without sufficient touch, people with this language feel deflated, demotivated, disembodied, frozen.

Rebecca K. Reynolds writes:

“[Touch] is one of my top two love languages — and I absolutely hate it. In a heartbeat, I would trade with anyone else for any of the other gifts. It feels barbaric and ignorant. Dangerous. Vulnerable. It’s funny. It’s wretched. I’m not sure what the answer is to this dilemma.”

A lot of the “problem” is cultural

The United States, in particular, is both hyper-sexualized and yet utterly terrified — of their own shadows and the implications of simple touch.

Rebecca K. Reynolds writes:

“In other countries, platonic friends walk arm-in-arm and kiss one another on the cheeks. All those things are done as natural out-workings of a love that has absolutely nothing to do with human sexuality.”

And she’s right. I’ve traveled to nearly 30 countries and still, every time I travel and see straight men walking arms linked, or straight women holding hands, I surprise myself with how much this still surprises me.

Some of my friends and colleagues here in the States are from other countries, and they will openly hug, dance, kiss each other on the cheeks, lounge side by side on couches — all without a second thought. Our uptight viewpoint is our problem and hinges largely on us (and perhaps our Puritan past.)

Touch is not always (and OFTEN isn’t) sexual

Touch between non-romantic people is often deliberately stifled. And some resources do reassure us,

“You can speak the language of physical touch to friends and family. Touching does not have to be sexual.”

But even these sources go on to include only very limited examples, many of which are either a.) parent-child (e.g., “a child whose love language is physical touch may enjoy when you rub her back”) or b.) still distinctly “at arm’s length” (e.g., literally “setting your hand on the person’s shoulder.”)

Which is why Rebecca K. Reynolds writes:

“Most of the touch people I know struggle to even talk about it openly because in a hypersexed world, the public assumes any reference to touch equals a desire for intimacy. How strongly can I emphasize that this is absolutely not true. Though sex involves touch, it’s not the primary manifestation of this love language.”

Reynolds adds,

“This love language isn’t rooted in sex drive or lust.”

Rather,

“It’s about needing to feel safe, anchored, and seen in a world that feels dangerous, chaotic, and anonymous.”

She goes on to specify,

“Sadly, human touch people often walk around with a tank so empty, it would take a long, awkward time to fill… adults who carry this need are virtually starved to death… As someone who is married, in a loving and regularly intimate relationship, I thought it might be helpful to say…”

“This isn’t lust, nor is it resolved by regular sex.”

Instead,

“This is more like an innate need to be constantly surrounded by a mass of golden retriever puppies, the need to constantly stand in the crash of an ocean, or the need to feel breeze on your arms.”

This isn’t about “hiring touch”

I understand that there are services, both sexual but also non-sexual in nature (most notably massage, but also services such as “cuddle-for-hire”) that may satisfy a need for human physical touch. That’s not what this is about.

It’s not just about “being touched.”

It’s about being touched in a way that demonstrates care, ideally by the people you care about.

This is about “touch” as part of one’s existing (non-romantic) relationships

For those with the “physical touch” love language, touch as an integral part of feeling rapport, care, and connection with anyone — friends, family, colleagues — and just as in romantic relationships, not having touch as part these contexts means not recognizing or “receiving” the psychological benefits.

SOLUTIONS:

1. Question/challenge cultural viewpoints of touch

We can’t take on the world and we shouldn’t try, but in corners of our lives, we’re permitted to play with norms, to challenge them, to pick our battles and make space for each other’s (and our own!) physical forms, and honoring them.

2. If you are a “physical touch” person…

Options that may work to build an outlet:

Build hobbies that offer physicality with others — dance, acroyoga, skydiving, massage courses. They may still not be enough for you and if that’s the case, that’s fine. But hobbies like these do help me.

Encourage/support/warmly receive hugs when you get them.

Return the gesture with the other person’s love language. If you don’t know it, ask or figure it out. (e.g., if they are “words of affirmation,” say “thank you — you’re a good hugger.”)

If touches from strangers feel too intimate, it’s okay to say so.

3. If someone you care about is a “physical touch” person…

Touch them — in the way they’d like to be touched. (Usually warmly, gently, and deliberately.) At a bare minimum, hold on to hugs a bit longer. They will melt, and not sexually. Touch like this is rare, and they will treasure it.

They want real touch in the way “words of affirmation” people want a real compliment.

They want thoughtful touch in the way “gifts” people want a thoughtful gift.

They want a caring touch in the way “acts of service” people want things taken care of.

They want an attentive touch in the way “quality time” people want focus.

They want a hug that lingers. They want someone to hold space.

4. Reserve some touch types for romantic partner(s)

Physical touch is in my top three languages, and my partner has “physical touch” as one of his top as well.

I will happily hug colleagues and cuddle friends, but some touches are reserved for my partner alone: besides sex and kissing (which, obviously), touches like “a palm on the back of the neck” are only his.

Touch is not always “sexual” — and it is often healing

It is very fundamental to our way of being, and it’s not just “touch” people but all of us, really, that benefit from human to human contact.