So, here's the thing. I go to a private Christian university (if you don't know that by now. . . well, you don't pay attention very well), and within that community (an amazing one I might add) the term "love languages" gets tossed around in everyday conversation. I'm not saying that as a bad thing, just as an observation. If you don't know what love languages are, they are basically 5 ways that people can express love to you, and there are lots of online resources to find out which of these love languages speaks most to you personally. The five love languages are quality time, acts of service, gifts, words of affirmation, and physical touch. All of these love languages are equally important, but today, I want to focus on physical touch.
Physical touch is my number one love language by a long shot. But here's the thing I've noticed, it's also the most controversial love language. It's not hard to see why, because it can so easily get out of hand. However, I want to attempt to debunk some of the stigma that comes with being someone whose love language is physical touch.
First, foremost, and most bluntly put, it does not make you a slut if physical touch is your love language. You do not have to make out with and hang all over people to feel loved. In all honesty, a pat on the arm, or a hug when you say hi, or even a high five are all wonderful ways in which you can feel loved without crossing boundaries of physical touch.
However, having physical touch as your love language comes with some things you need to realize about yourself. Because physical touch is what makes you feel the most loved, it also makes you more vulnerable to getting caught up in the physical touch. It makes it that much easier to go from sitting closely to cuddling. It also means that all of that carries much more weight for you than the average person. It never occurred to me that cuddling could be a casual thing, (you cuddle once because it felt nice and you move on?) because to me, that means so much. I used to complain about how I have never held hands with a guy, but as I've gotten older, I realized that even something as simple as that can hold so much meaning to someone whose love language is physical touch. Which is why it's a blessing that I have been spared that attachment to people who would just end up leaving after all is said and done.
But, enough of my rambling. To sum things up, physical touch is a valid love language, it just means that certain things need to be viewed with a lens of caution, and it absolutely, 100% does not mean you are a slut or will inevitably become one. So, people, can we please stop saying that?
Til Next Time,
CrazyGirl
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
Saturday, September 19, 2015
CrazyGirl Observes Choices
Sometimes life does this crazy thing where it gives you two very noticeable choices; the easy way or the scary way. As I've gotten older, I've started realizing that the easy way doesn't always warrant the results we desire. Sometimes, you have to make the scary choice.
Today, I went out with some friends and we hiked our way to some really neat waterfalls. Now, you need to know a few things for this to make any sense to you, first, these waterfalls are popular because you can jump off of them, second, I am utterly terrified of heights (I literally had a panic attack after trying a ropes course when I was in high school).
Since I was there, I was presented with my two choices. The Easy Way: hang out at the bottom of the falls and cheer on my friends as they all jumped one by one. The Scary Way: Climb to the top, look over the edge, and jump.
Again, remember that I am terrified of heights. I decided that if I was going to jump I needed to do it before I psyched myself out, so I climbed up the little trail to the top, looked over the edge, and panicked. It was SO FAR down. My heart was beating out of my chest and I knew if I didn't go soon, I was going to have to make the walk of shame back down the path I had come up. One of my friends jumped, and I told myself I needed to go next. So, trying not to shake, I stepped up to the rock, and looked down. Cue the panic. Most of me wanted to turn around and run back down the path. In my head, I kept repeating "What am I doing? What was I thinking? I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this." I turned to one of my friends and seriously considered bolting for the path behind her, but she was encouraging and said "Katie, you can do this. You just have to do a countdown," so I took a deep breath and turned back towards the water below while she continued counting.
Her: "3"
My brain: "ARE YOU CRAZY? You can't jump. But if you don't, you have to walk back down the path."
Her: "2"
My brain: "You aren't actually going to jump are you? That's insanity. You'll be fine if you don't jump."
Her: "1"
I took one last deep breath, felt every muscle in my body tighten, and pushed off. Then, suddenly, I was free falling, which is both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. It seemed to take forever to hit the water, but when I finally did, I realized just what I had done. I jumped. I made the scary choice.
Sometimes, in our daily lives, there are choices that are scary, even if you know it's the only way to get the desired result, it's still scary. If you are in a position where the right choice is the scary choice, I want to encourage you to take a deep breath and jump.
Til Next Time,
CrazyGirl
Today, I went out with some friends and we hiked our way to some really neat waterfalls. Now, you need to know a few things for this to make any sense to you, first, these waterfalls are popular because you can jump off of them, second, I am utterly terrified of heights (I literally had a panic attack after trying a ropes course when I was in high school).
Since I was there, I was presented with my two choices. The Easy Way: hang out at the bottom of the falls and cheer on my friends as they all jumped one by one. The Scary Way: Climb to the top, look over the edge, and jump.
Again, remember that I am terrified of heights. I decided that if I was going to jump I needed to do it before I psyched myself out, so I climbed up the little trail to the top, looked over the edge, and panicked. It was SO FAR down. My heart was beating out of my chest and I knew if I didn't go soon, I was going to have to make the walk of shame back down the path I had come up. One of my friends jumped, and I told myself I needed to go next. So, trying not to shake, I stepped up to the rock, and looked down. Cue the panic. Most of me wanted to turn around and run back down the path. In my head, I kept repeating "What am I doing? What was I thinking? I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this." I turned to one of my friends and seriously considered bolting for the path behind her, but she was encouraging and said "Katie, you can do this. You just have to do a countdown," so I took a deep breath and turned back towards the water below while she continued counting.
Her: "3"
My brain: "ARE YOU CRAZY? You can't jump. But if you don't, you have to walk back down the path."
Her: "2"
My brain: "You aren't actually going to jump are you? That's insanity. You'll be fine if you don't jump."
Her: "1"
I took one last deep breath, felt every muscle in my body tighten, and pushed off. Then, suddenly, I was free falling, which is both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. It seemed to take forever to hit the water, but when I finally did, I realized just what I had done. I jumped. I made the scary choice.
Sometimes, in our daily lives, there are choices that are scary, even if you know it's the only way to get the desired result, it's still scary. If you are in a position where the right choice is the scary choice, I want to encourage you to take a deep breath and jump.
Til Next Time,
CrazyGirl
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)