Touch in Therapy

I've been avoiding some feelings about my therapist attempting to hug me in our last session. I was in distress, battling to control some overwhelming emotions. To understand why she attempted to hug me and why I rejected her with a strong 'no', we need to take a few steps back.

Or more than a few, in my case.

You see, I told her 'no' because in actuality touch revolts me. It revolts me a lot less (a LOT less) than it used to, thanks to many years of studious self-managed exposure therapy, but for anyone other than my husband, I need to dissociate to let them touch me. It increases my anxiety and makes me feel unsafe. Heck, even my husband can only touch me in certain ways, in certain places, and for a certain length of time before I become overwhelmed.

I'm not 100% sure why, but I reckon the combination of emotional neglect, multiple caregivers, and being physically and emotionally abused by my father at a very young age made me aversive to touch. My parents didn't nurture me in that way, so I had to learn to regulate my own feelings through dissociation.

For a long time, being touched provoked a physical aversion reaction (startling, jumping, moving away). Having a boyfriend? Well, that was a challenge. I pushed myself to become sexually active. In doing so, I probably entrenched my ability to dissociate, because I had to dissociate to cope with being pushed out of my safety zone -- to be touched.

So, sex has to be something I control, because I've learned to enjoy sex through dissociation (cutting off my emotions and manipulating my body's pleasure receptors). I'm very good at orgasming. Very good. Not so good at being emotionally present (and sometimes even cognitively present) during sex.

As I grow less willing to dissociate, I grow less willing to have sex. In the few times I was emotionally present for sex, I burst into tears, overwhelmed by the emotions. Not exactly the best ending to sex, really.

Touch isn't all about sex. I hug people now, when they need reassurance or there are social cues. I don't like it. But, it's something else I'm trained to do. Unexpected hugs, such as when people try to reassure me, are revolting. Only my mother-in-law tries, now and then, to touch me in the way intimate family members do (hand on shoulder, rubbing back, holding arm). But these acts of physical intimacy are so foreign to me I feel attacked. My hyper-vigilance turns on. I pull away.

I am human, though. Touch is important, and my body knows what I need better than I do. So, you will find me invariably attached to my husband: holding his hand, curled in his arms, hugging him. People have asked if we were courting because we are always so close, it looks like we are in the honeymoon phase. In reality, my body realises it feels better in his arms. This feeling of safety is practically bliss.

Three therapy sessions ago, I expressed my emotions in a calm way. My therapist had tears in her eyes. Normally, I avoid looking at her. She looked sad. It made me feel uncomfortable, like my sadness was infecting her, but she also conveyed a sense of pride. Or maybe I just felt proud to be able to share my emotions so calmly (without anxiety).

When we left, she walked me to the door of the building and just as I went to leave, she opened her arms and essentially asked me to come over and let her hug me. My immediate feeling was panic, which I controlled through a gritty dissociation as she hugged me. And I avoided thinking about it, other than a few sporadic feelings of resentment.

She made a mistake in hugging me. She was hugging me to fulfil her own desire to parent me, to reassure me with physical intimacy. It wasn't my need. It wasn't my desire. But, I accept therapists are human. They are not perfect. I understand her motives; it damaged my trust in her slightly, but I didn't realise that until last session when she tried to hug me again.

I assumed the first hug would have been a one-off event, so when I was trying to express some strong emotions (and failing completely) at the end of the last session, I didn't expect her to come out of the chair and try to hug me. I panicked more visibly. My attempts to control the situation (my emotions, her physical closeness) were becoming desperate. I was pressing my fist to my forehead, pulling away, forcefully saying 'No.'

Thankfully, she respected the boundary I imposed, but she still didn't move back into her chair. I still am not sure I can face how I feel about that. I didn't like her being close to me. I rejected her like I've rejected so many people, including my own mother. That fear of intimacy was almost stronger than the other emotions I attempted to contain.

And now I feel guilty about hurting my therapist. Ashamed to have had a stranger so close to me. Vulnerable to feel so not in control. Scared to confront her about the touching. Angry at myself for causing this situation by being in distress aka not controlling my feelings. Anxious about being touched in the future. Confused about what my therapist wants from me.

Yes, dissociating all of these feelings is a lot easier than processing them.

There are a lot of reasons a therapist shouldn't touch their client. A lot of reasons. But how does that fit with a client whose primary mental health problems stem from an attachment disorder -- a childhood with a distinct lack of emotional and physical intimacy? Does a lack of touch perpetuate the neglect that caused the original injury?

The article says that touch can be "exceptionally caring, comforting, reassuring, or healing," but in my case it was none of those. Dealing with my own pathological response makes it even more obvious how 'screwed up' I am.

I don't like feeling so un-human.