Being held and bodily pride: What touch deprivation does to the self-esteem of disabled people
Comments
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I agree @wendy41. Boundaries are really important and should be respected. Thanks for all your support. Your efforts are acknowledged and really appreciated!0
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@Palagonius Hello there, I'm Cher - one of the online community co-ordinators here on Scope. How are you this morning?
I'm sorry to hear that you are having troubling thoughts. I can assure you, you aren't a freak and your best will absolutely be more than good enough for the right person. I imagine this is something you will be shaking your head at, based on how you're currently feeling, and it sounds like you've had it tough for a while. But your worth isn't dependent on the women you've met so far - who knows, the females you have been in contact with could have been too shy to say anything or approach you. Our perceptions of others can sometimes be blurred by our own thoughts.
However, to be desired is a natural want and I completely get how affection and a relationship is something you'd like in your life. I wonder if we can help if you tell us a bit more about dating and any avenues you've tried so far i.e. dating sites or apps?
I'd also be interested to know a little more about the ten years you've spent helping kids? I bet they appreciate you for all you do
I'm going to send you an email now so please look out for that. And remember, if you ever think you may act on those thoughts about harming yourself, then please contact 999 and ask for an emergency ambulance asap. Likewise, you can contact any of these organisations 24/7 for someone to talk to:- The Samaritans on 116123 or by emailing jo@samaritans.org.uk
- SHOUT by texting 'SHOUT' to 85258 to speak to a trained crisis volunteer
- Find a local NHS mental health helpline
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Yes, this was an interesting read, thank you.
Ive realised that I've not been touched in a romantic way for probably 7 years...
I've not been touched at all since before the pandemic..
I mean I've always shied away from non-romantic hugs, probably due to Autism, but it makes me think.. if I was touched more, would I be a happier person?1 -
Physical touch is a need of my disability that feels very similar to hunger, but I’m starving as, like a few people have said previously there are lots of predatory cishet men out there and I’d rather die of starvation than be prey to those men0
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sorry for your struggles0
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Definitely relatable, luckily my friends like hugs
so i do get too sometimes,
when i can see them in person
but yes I do miss long hugs and daily interaction with another person in real life.0 -
Richard_Scope said:
October is Pro-Touch Awareness Month and as a part of the campaign to raise awareness of the importance of consensual touch and physical closeness We reshare this excellent blog.
This article was written by @pattern1991 and is shared here with permission.
Whilst it's true that many of us have been, and are, still unable to receive and give forms of affection we might previously have taken for granted. An experience is known as touch deprivation.
Have you ever thought about what experiencing touch deprivation, irrespective of a pandemic, might do to a person’s psychological and physical well-being as a result?
This has certainly been the case for me. As a young disabled woman living with quadriplegic cerebral palsy and also being a permanent wheelchair user. As one might guess, a severe lack of regular consensual affection and touch in general in non-medical related situations does have a severe impact on my self-esteem.
I want to use this article to speak more about how this reality makes me and possibly others feel. So that people outside of it might think differently moving forward with life post-pandemic. Or at least be more appreciative of what they do have or can obtain easily.
It's been scientifically proven that hugging and close affection is central to bonding. Mothers are encouraged to engage in skin to skin contact as soon as a newborn arrives to strengthen this. Hugging releases vital mood-boosting, illness busting chemicals such as oxytocin, serotonin and dopamine. All of which are key to our personal development and generally learning how to use our emotions to navigate the world.
[Woman being hugged by a taller person]
But how is a person affected if they don’t experience all of this as regularly and easily as others?
From firsthand experience, I can definitely say I've been negatively impacted. But please know this is not due to neglectful, damaging parenting. Anyone who knows me would openly say I am the world’s worst worrier. And it has been shown that affection is a wonderful aid in stress reduction. However, I think my fearfulness has been exacerbated because much of the time showing me affection cannot be spontaneous.
Without my wheelchair, I would not have the support which allows me to remain upright in a good sitting position. And I cannot easily adjust myself to accommodate more complex hugging positions for others. This means that giving me a hug still takes effort on the part of the other person which I find embarrassing. So I think that increased effort is part of the reason why many people, certainly outside of my parents, do not hug me very often.
I understand this reaction to a point as I accept the belief that people close to me don’t want to physically hurt me and everybody is different (see what I did there?). Still, however melodramatic this may sound, an absence of such intimacy underscores the belief that my body, every part of it, is unworthy of adoration, playful exploration and pride from both me and the one I’m trying to share intimacy with. As an example, I would feel a sense of joyful power if I were to receive more hugs whilst out of my wheelchair. It would feel exciting to know that someone I have a deep, safe connection with could willingly choose and be proud to hold my body in this way. Possibly even for hours in a romantic sense. Especially when so often my body is deemed undesirable and something to be feared.
[Non-disabled woman holding the hands of a disabled person whilst having food and wine]
It has long been said that activities such as burlesque help people feel joy and autonomy within their own bodies. I have often dreamt that I am in the profession myself. It's an added thrill that my body is framed as glamorous and desirable in these dreams, characteristics not usually afforded in real life. One must remember, however, that despite the control and ownership that practices like burlesque seem to afford, women, in particular those who work in these industries, must walk a fine line. It's a line between giving a performance and the worry that the performance may be misconstrued.
This worry highlights the double standards which different sexes face concerning bodily pride. Which in many circumstances I have to be acutely aware of, both as a disabled woman and a female. It also makes the road to fully loving and accepting my body much harder to tread.
In summary, I hope this article has opened the reader’s eyes to what a lack of affectionate and consensual bodily contact can do to the self-esteem of disabled and touch-deprived individuals. I hope that more people will have the courage to safely engage with bodies such as these. And that more education can be given on sexual etiquette. So everyone can experience feelings of joy, power, safety, and the romantic liberation that we richly deserve.
Richard_Scope said:October is Pro-Touch Awareness Month and as a part of the campaign to raise awareness of the importance of consensual touch and physical closeness We reshare this excellent blog.
This article was written by @pattern1991 and is shared here with permission.
Whilst it's true that many of us have been, and are, still unable to receive and give forms of affection we might previously have taken for granted. An experience is known as touch deprivation.
Have you ever thought about what experiencing touch deprivation, irrespective of a pandemic, might do to a person’s psychological and physical well-being as a result?
This has certainly been the case for me. As a young disabled woman living with quadriplegic cerebral palsy and also being a permanent wheelchair user. As one might guess, a severe lack of regular consensual affection and touch in general in non-medical related situations does have a severe impact on my self-esteem.
I want to use this article to speak more about how this reality makes me and possibly others feel. So that people outside of it might think differently moving forward with life post-pandemic. Or at least be more appreciative of what they do have or can obtain easily.
It's been scientifically proven that hugging and close affection is central to bonding. Mothers are encouraged to engage in skin to skin contact as soon as a newborn arrives to strengthen this. Hugging releases vital mood-boosting, illness busting chemicals such as oxytocin, serotonin and dopamine. All of which are key to our personal development and generally learning how to use our emotions to navigate the world.
[Woman being hugged by a taller person]
But how is a person affected if they don’t experience all of this as regularly and easily as others?
From firsthand experience, I can definitely say I've been negatively impacted. But please know this is not due to neglectful, damaging parenting. Anyone who knows me would openly say I am the world’s worst worrier. And it has been shown that affection is a wonderful aid in stress reduction. However, I think my fearfulness has been exacerbated because much of the time showing me affection cannot be spontaneous.
Without my wheelchair, I would not have the support which allows me to remain upright in a good sitting position. And I cannot easily adjust myself to accommodate more complex hugging positions for others. This means that giving me a hug still takes effort on the part of the other person which I find embarrassing. So I think that increased effort is part of the reason why many people, certainly outside of my parents, do not hug me very often.
I understand this reaction to a point as I accept the belief that people close to me don’t want to physically hurt me and everybody is different (see what I did there?). Still, however melodramatic this may sound, an absence of such intimacy underscores the belief that my body, every part of it, is unworthy of adoration, playful exploration and pride from both me and the one I’m trying to share intimacy with. As an example, I would feel a sense of joyful power if I were to receive more hugs whilst out of my wheelchair. It would feel exciting to know that someone I have a deep, safe connection with could willingly choose and be proud to hold my body in this way. Possibly even for hours in a romantic sense. Especially when so often my body is deemed undesirable and something to be feared.
[Non-disabled woman holding the hands of a disabled person whilst having food and wine]
It has long been said that activities such as burlesque help people feel joy and autonomy within their own bodies. I have often dreamt that I am in the profession myself. It's an added thrill that my body is framed as glamorous and desirable in these dreams, characteristics not usually afforded in real life. One must remember, however, that despite the control and ownership that practices like burlesque seem to afford, women, in particular those who work in these industries, must walk a fine line. It's a line between giving a performance and the worry that the performance may be misconstrued.
This worry highlights the double standards which different sexes face concerning bodily pride. Which in many circumstances I have to be acutely aware of, both as a disabled woman and a female. It also makes the road to fully loving and accepting my body much harder to tread.
In summary, I hope this article has opened the reader’s eyes to what a lack of affectionate and consensual bodily contact can do to the self-esteem of disabled and touch-deprived individuals. I hope that more people will have the courage to safely engage with bodies such as these. And that more education can be given on sexual etiquette. So everyone can experience feelings of joy, power, safety, and the romantic liberation that we richly deserve.
Richard_Scope said:October is Pro-Touch Awareness Month and as a part of the campaign to raise awareness of the importance of consensual touch and physical closeness We reshare this excellent blog.
This article was written by @pattern1991 and is shared here with permission.
Whilst it's true that many of us have been, and are, still unable to receive and give forms of affection we might previously have taken for granted. An experience is known as touch deprivation.
Have you ever thought about what experiencing touch deprivation, irrespective of a pandemic, might do to a person’s psychological and physical well-being as a result?
This has certainly been the case for me. As a young disabled woman living with quadriplegic cerebral palsy and also being a permanent wheelchair user. As one might guess, a severe lack of regular consensual affection and touch in general in non-medical related situations does have a severe impact on my self-esteem.
I want to use this article to speak more about how this reality makes me and possibly others feel. So that people outside of it might think differently moving forward with life post-pandemic. Or at least be more appreciative of what they do have or can obtain easily.
It's been scientifically proven that hugging and close affection is central to bonding. Mothers are encouraged to engage in skin to skin contact as soon as a newborn arrives to strengthen this. Hugging releases vital mood-boosting, illness busting chemicals such as oxytocin, serotonin and dopamine. All of which are key to our personal development and generally learning how to use our emotions to navigate the world.
[Woman being hugged by a taller person]
But how is a person affected if they don’t experience all of this as regularly and easily as others?
From firsthand experience, I can definitely say I've been negatively impacted. But please know this is not due to neglectful, damaging parenting. Anyone who knows me would openly say I am the world’s worst worrier. And it has been shown that affection is a wonderful aid in stress reduction. However, I think my fearfulness has been exacerbated because much of the time showing me affection cannot be spontaneous.
Without my wheelchair, I would not have the support which allows me to remain upright in a good sitting position. And I cannot easily adjust myself to accommodate more complex hugging positions for others. This means that giving me a hug still takes effort on the part of the other person which I find embarrassing. So I think that increased effort is part of the reason why many people, certainly outside of my parents, do not hug me very often.
I understand this reaction to a point as I accept the belief that people close to me don’t want to physically hurt me and everybody is different (see what I did there?). Still, however melodramatic this may sound, an absence of such intimacy underscores the belief that my body, every part of it, is unworthy of adoration, playful exploration and pride from both me and the one I’m trying to share intimacy with. As an example, I would feel a sense of joyful power if I were to receive more hugs whilst out of my wheelchair. It would feel exciting to know that someone I have a deep, safe connection with could willingly choose and be proud to hold my body in this way. Possibly even for hours in a romantic sense. Especially when so often my body is deemed undesirable and something to be feared.
[Non-disabled woman holding the hands of a disabled person whilst having food and wine]
It has long been said that activities such as burlesque help people feel joy and autonomy within their own bodies. I have often dreamt that I am in the profession myself. It's an added thrill that my body is framed as glamorous and desirable in these dreams, characteristics not usually afforded in real life. One must remember, however, that despite the control and ownership that practices like burlesque seem to afford, women, in particular those who work in these industries, must walk a fine line. It's a line between giving a performance and the worry that the performance may be misconstrued.
This worry highlights the double standards which different sexes face concerning bodily pride. Which in many circumstances I have to be acutely aware of, both as a disabled woman and a female. It also makes the road to fully loving and accepting my body much harder to tread.
In summary, I hope this article has opened the reader’s eyes to what a lack of affectionate and consensual bodily contact can do to the self-esteem of disabled and touch-deprived individuals. I hope that more people will have the courage to safely engage with bodies such as these. And that more education can be given on sexual etiquette. So everyone can experience feelings of joy, power, safety, and the romantic liberation that we richly deserve.
I definitely feel what you've told and it is so devastating. Although one side of my body feels like others but this need is hard to get by our dearest and nearest one which is hurtful
But thank for your information
This seems sympathetic to me that I am not alone
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