Are you a hugger?
It is a simple question, but it opens the door to something most of us rarely stop to think about, which is our need for touch.
Some of us light up when a friend opens their arms. Others hesitate, unsure if a hug feels safe or natural. Either way, the body keeps score.
Whether we lean in or pull back, our nervous systems are always responding to the presence, or absence, of touch.
Mary Oliver captures this so beautifully in her poem Wild Geese. It begins:
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves…
That “soft animal” inside us is not a stranger. It is the tender, living part of us that wants to curl up safe, to nuzzle into warmth, to be stroked, held, and reassured. It is the child in us who still longs for comfort, the creature in us that relaxes when touched with care.
Touch is one of the ways we let that soft animal feel at home again, to rest, belong, and remember it is worthy of love.
We live in a world that often forgets this need, or reduces it to something sexual, when in truth touch is far more expansive. It is a form of self‑care, a way of coming back to the body, and a reminder that we are not alone.
Touch as a Forgotten Need
That soft animal in us is not just a poetic idea. It is real, living in our nervous system, always listening and sensing for signals of safety. When it feels a gentle touch, it relaxes. When it is deprived of touch, it tenses, retreats, and sometimes grows restless or lonely.
We see this truth in the way babies thrive when held close. Without touch, they fail to flourish, no matter how well they are fed. Animals, too, constantly nuzzle, groom, and press against each other. They know what we so often forget, thattouch is not optional. It is a language of belonging.
As adults, many of us push that need aside. We tell ourselves we have outgrown it, that independence means not needing to be held. Or we confuse touch only with sex, forgetting the countless other ways it can nourish us. But, our body never forgets. It keeps waiting for warmth, for closeness, for care.
The question is not whether we need touch, but how we will let ourselves receive it.
Our Cultural Confusion
Our body knows what it needs, but our culture often makes it complicated.
We live in a world that is both touch‑starved and hypersexualized. On one hand, we scroll through images filled with intimacy and physical closeness. On the other, many of us go days or weeks without a meaningful hug. Somewhere along the way, we learned to equate touch almost exclusively with sex, romance, or family bonds.
Yet the need for touch is much more than that. Our bodies long to be held in ways that are safe, platonic, and nurturing. We do not need performance or perfection. We simply want to curl up in warmth, to feel the steady presence of another, and to know we are not alone.
This confusion leaves many of us caught. We may crave touch but fear what others will think if we reach for it. We may want closeness but worry it will be misunderstood. And so our nervous systems waits, hungering for something that our culture does not easily provide.
The invitation is to remember that touch does not have to be sexual to be sacred. It can be a gentle hand on the shoulder, a lingering hug from a friend, or the soothing pressure of a massage session. Touch is one of the simplest, most human ways we say, I see you. You belong here.
Practical Invitations
So how do we begin nourishing our body with the touch it longs for?
It does not always require a partner or a grand gesture. Sometimes it is about small, intentional choices that remind our body it is safe, cared for, and not alone.
Self‑touch rituals
Place a hand over your heart, rub your shoulders or hold your face gently as if comforting a child. These simple acts tell your body, I am here with you.
Everyday safe touch
A long hug with a trusted friend, holding hands or a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. Even sitting close with someone you trust can help the nervous system settle.
Therapeutic touch
Massage therapy is often sought for aches and pains, but the gift goes deeper than muscle relief. The attentive and caring contact helps the body soften and remember it is safe.
Assisted stretching
Services like Stretch Zone guide you through supported stretches. While the focus may be flexibility, your body still receives the benefit of safe, supportive touch.
Professional cuddling
Platforms such as Cuddlist.com provide structured, platonic touch for those longing for closeness without sexual expectation. It can be a courageous way of giving your body what it needs in a safe and consensual setting.
Each of these is a way of saying yes to your body’s quiet longing. Whether through self‑touch, a hug from a friend, a massage, or even professional cuddling, these practices offer a safe, caring touch that reminds us we are not alone. Our need for touch is not a weakness. It is human.
The Spiritual Invitation
Touch is not only physical. It is spiritual. Every time we receive touch with openness, we are reminded that we belong in our bodies and in this world. The soft animal of our body, so often ignored or restrained, finally gets to breathe, settle, and to feel safe.
Coming home to ourselves is not only about breath, or rest, or slowing down. It is also about allowing the body to be touched whether by ourselves, by others we trust, and even by the simple gifts of life, like sunlight, wind, or water on our skin.
Touch is one of the simplest ways we remember that we are not meant to walk this road alone.
So here is a question you might carry with you:
How do I currently give and receive touch in my life, and where might I allow more?
It does not have to be dramatic. It can be as small as placing a hand on your chest before you fall asleep. Or as simple as saying yes to a hug. Or making space in your week for a massage, a cuddle, or even a moment of stillness where you imagine being held.
The soft animal of your body does not ask for perfection. It only asks to love what it loves.
💬 I would love to hear your reflections in the comments. Do you have practices, rituals, or experiences that help you receive the touch you need? Sharing your story may encourage someone else who is longing for the same thing.
*Read Wild Geese by Mary Oliver.
Keith Rowe is a breathworker, teacher, and founder of Vital Healing, a nonprofit where he helps people reconnect to the wisdom of the body and transform through breathwork, shadow work, somatic practice, and spiritual clarity.
He is co-creator of the upcoming Walking Pilgrim app, a 33-day journey of mindful walking and presence. Sign up to receive updates for when it is released at walkingpilgrim.com.