Of huggers and whatnots

I grew up in a family of huggers. You could say that we’re kinda the touchy kind.



The kind you see with one arm outstretched to the other’s shoulder while walking, the ones you see hugging each other tightly when we meet up and when we say goodbye, the ones you see incessantly poking each other’s ribs whenever wherever (which evolved to pinching each other’s nipples for guys - I know, wierd).

In high school, I was taught that a person needs 30 hugs a day. There was a time before graduation, each would have to hug the person arriving in for the first period in the morning. Thus before the start of the first class, we each would have 30 hugs already, from 29 of our classmates and one from our adviser.

Of course hugging is still somewhat reserved to those I’m comfortable hugging. I don’t want to end up with a black eye or a slap on my face, you see. But for those I feel strongly, I do make it a point to have given them a hug on occasions – friends, family, just a few officemates – people who matter. It’s my first act of showing affection.


I guess I have never really met anyone who’s not used to hugging. I’ve always thought all people would know how to hug, no matter which gender, one way or another.


Not until recently.

Let’s call him kups. Kups became my tropa, my kada, my bro and homey quite unexpectedly. He was the astig street smart kinda guy, I was the perky bratty kid. We were kinda each other’s opposites but I guess we hit it off quite easily.

He’d jump off at the first sign of hugging, disclosing that he doesn’t hug much really, let alone guys. I’d have to literally ask for permission since that was my only way of thanking him for letting me extend my welcome in his pad. I’ve assumed he doesn’t want to lessen his machismo so I let him have his personal space. I vowed to train him to be a hugger, but I wager it’d be one tough task. Haha!

But as days went by, I realise he has his own way of showing friendship and affection. He’d give out a piece of chocolate randomly to friends (something that he might have picked up from the office or something), he’d be very attentive in what one is saying and would always extend out help when needed (even if he’s dead tired even), he’d simply do things without big gestures, without fuss nor condition, but still, it would mean so much.

Thus, I’m letting him be with his machismo. My hugs are nothing compared to his macho sweetness, non-obvious and unassuming. I realise each person would have their own ways of saying they care, which made me appreciate a lot of people more.


You can never really measure one’s thoughtfulness with your own standard. You’d only get disappointed if you do lest you realise and welcome that each gesture is special in their way.


Your dad might not be a hugger, but he may be a patter (a pat on the back lol). Your mom might not be a hugger, but she may be a pincher (a pinch or two on your ear maybe lol). Your friends might not be a hugger, but they may be a slapper (slaps you practically everywhere, your bum, or maybe wacks your head).

Thus, huggers or whatnots, appreciate and you’d find happiness.

Little gestures might not be too big, but they could mean so much.

  

  pictures from here and here.