Not really a hugger

I think we have been all over how I am not a very friendly person... well that isn't entirely accurate, I think I am a very friendly person, but I am a reserved person with people I don't know well.

I can usually tell straight off if I will click with someone or not, and with those people I think I will click with, I tend to start off quite friendly, almost like we are already friends, so in those rare occasions I am quite warm. The rest of the time I am fairly reserved and somewhat distant.When I have a warm relationship with people, I over-share personal information.  I pat them on the arm, and straighten their collars, I bake them cakes, and cook them lavish meals, I fix their hair and fuss over their pets.  I do not generally hug them, unless they are leaving, and we are standing at a door, and they hug me first. 

Naturally there are people I hug.  I hug my children often, more often than they would like.  I hug my husband, but truth be told he is not a real hugger himself.  I hug the children at the preschool often, openly and with love. I hugged my grandmothers, I don't hug my remaining grandfather, because it feels unnatural, since we have had this long weird estrangement.  I hug my friend Kathy, I hug my friend Don. I have tons of good close friends that I don't hug.  I don't really hug Rolf.  The hug is not a sign of rank of goodness of friendship for me. 

I have a new employee, a quit nice young woman, I could be her very young mother, kind of young person, and yesterday she hugged me not once, but twice.  She quite possibly would have hugged me a third time, had I not stepped out of the path of her arms.  I was completely and utterly thrown off by the hugging. I don't even hug the employee that also works at my house often. The one I like, the one I feel motherly toward. I feed her.  I give her motherly advice and recently promised her my old washing machine and dryer, but I never hug her.

A few days ago a family that had been at the school with me for three years, had their last day, and wouldn't you know it, they gave me a hug goodbye. It was very kind of them to hug me, but truth be told, I was sort of dreading it.

Sometimes I think I am a total weirdo because I hate people to hug me.  I like to be the initiator of all hugs coming my way.

I have a dear childhood friend, whos father is like family to me; I adore him, but he is a hugger and a kisser! There is nothing creepy about the guy, he is an equal opportunity hugger and kisser, he kisses and hugs everyone and is  completely well meaning, but it just makes me want to have a large tray, or some other device to provide a barrier,  in my arms any time we meet, because I just hate having to turn my head.  Perhaps he was French in a past life?  My father in law is a hugger and kisser too.  He kisses and hugs Mark very affectionately and I cringe every time, knowing that I am next.

Anyway, I hope the girl from work will settle down and stop hugging me, or I will have to have an awkward conversation with her about boundaries.  Who am I kidding? I shall never have that conversation, I will just put up with the hugging and start carrying armloads of stuff whenever I might cross her path.