I’m going to hug you now.

When I was a kid, my goodbyes were apparently lackluster.

So my mom’s best friend/my second mother once told me, “You don’t know how to hug.”

Then she wrapped her arms around me and held me firmly as she instructed me to do the same.

With a somewhat strained voice, she said, “This is how you hug. This is how you show love.”

I was around eight at the time. And now, 17 years later, I still find myself wondering if I’m hugging properly. If I’m hugging at appropriate times. If I look as awkward as I feel.

I was never a good hugger, as my mom’s friend so blatantly pointed out. Just being that close, being in an embrace always made me feel …

… self conscious? Inappropriate? Nah. Just awkward.

I had a joint birthday party with a friend when we turned 13. We were opening presents and she would hug the current gift giver after each present. So I felt obliged. I remember hugging a boy – Davie. He was a good friend, but I’d never hugged him. And as I did, I was electric. I’m hugging a boy! I thought.

Was it wrong? Was it okay? I wasn’t sure. But that’s when I realized that hugging wasn’t as freaky of a thing as I made it out to be.

So like most teens, I became totally okay with touching. Or so I let on. Inside, I still cringed and wondered if this pat on the back was an okay thing to do. Or if tugging on someone’s hand was too extreme. Or if saying hello by wrapping arms was something I could do without seeming creepy.

Even today, when one of my good friends touches my leg while making a point, I know my eyes grow large. Even for a tenth of a second. My spine straightens. My calves twitch. And then there’s the horrifying second of, “Did she see that?” or “Does he think I’m a spaz?”

If I ever touch anyone, there’s a very labored thought process that precedes the action. I’m going to say this and then I’m going to playfully push this person’s arm. Okay, saying the phrase and going for the push … No one looks freaked out. Success!

I can’t help it. When it comes to being physical, I’ll always feel a little autistic. Perhaps I am.