Hugs...

Someone I follow on Facebook posted the following:


AN APOLOGY!

Today, I was listening to a conversation on the radio between a man and women concerning the Weinstein sexual assault accusations. She mentioned that she didn't like it when a man hugs her during a greeting, but she never said anything.

Over the years, my [wife] and I have hugged hundreds, maybe thousands of our customers, friends, and acquaintances that we liked and felt comfortable with. After listening to the radio today and seeing what Weinstein had done, I'm feeling like I owe an apology to those I may have hugged and were offended.

I hug many people, even men. (Man Hugs) with no disrespect intended.If I didn't have respect or admiration for you, I wouldn't even take the time.

This being said, if I or [my wife] have offended anyone, please accept our sincere apologies.


Out of 34 comments, only three acknowledged what he was saying as important.  Most were saying his hugs were fine and not to worry.  Many were about how intentions matters so folk needed to be able to recognize that.  In most of the latter posts, not wanting a hug was seen as ... anti-social ... as wrong.  

When I see such comments on social media, it fells me.  It hurts and hurts and hurts and I can barely breathe.

Today, a friend posted this article about a woman who is on a mission to tell her story.  A story where she was a sex-slave.  In America.  Beginning when she was twelve.  Twelve.

Her brother-in-law sold her from her home .. because her own mother sold her to him.  By day she was another young girl going about her life and by night she was a sex-slave.  No one at school knew.  As she says, "a pimp doesn't necessarily wear a big hat with a feather, and pedophiles aren't necessarily 40-year-old men who live in basements."

She says all the signs were there for folk to know what her life was like, but no one looked. She is sharing her story so that folk can learn to do so.

Reading the comments on that man's post made me rather cynical about her prospects.  Nearly all of the commenters rejected the very idea that his hugs could have been troubling to another.  They rejected the idea because he was a good person.  They rejected the idea because no one should be troubled if the hug was well-intentioned.  They rejected ... me.

They rejected my pain, my shame, my PTSD.
They rejected my fear, my sense of being trapped, my trigger.

Mostly, when I think about the things inside me, I believe there is no place for me in this world.  When I read comments like the one on that man's post, I am convinced more than ever that that is true.  When I read about that woman's horror, I know that that is true.

The world turns away.
The world doesn't want to know.
The world silences such stories.

I would add one more point about his post.  The man's response apologized for those who might have been offended by his hugs.  Perhaps ... perhaps those who do not like hugs in general it might have been offense.  But I would proffer that for those to whom he was addressing, those like the woman he heard on the radio, it wasn't offense, it was hurt.

Force me to endure something I do not want and you are hurting me, deepening the wounds of my past.  Even if it is just a hug.  Even in church.  Especially there.