Tiny Buddha

Author: Melanie Reno

  • I Hate Hugging: Getting Over the Fear of Intimacy

    I Hate Hugging: Getting Over the Fear of Intimacy

    “It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” ~E.E. Cummings

    I was a shy kid. My mom said that when I was in pre-school, the teacher asked all of the kids to hold hands and I said, “No thanks, I’ll just hold my own.”

    That may have been the beginning of my aversion towards human contact. As a kid, I remember grandparents, aunts, and uncles giving me big horrible hugs. If I didn’t blatantly push them away or wiggle free, I stood there stiff as board, until the torture was over.

    They thought this was adorable and would laugh and laugh. No one thought to seek professional help. They probably thought I’d out grow this, but I did not.

    It became more apparent by middle school. I don’t know what went on at your junior high, but at mine, girls were constantly touching!

    They were hugging multiple times per day, playing with each other’s hair, giving one another backrubs, and playing that weird arm tickling game where you plant a garden and watch it grow. If you’re curious what this actually is, don’t Google “girl’s tickling each other.” That’s not it!

    I remember the nervous rides to Chaparral Middle School. My mind would race. Who was going to try to hug me today? What would I do? What would I say? I decided: I’d just go along with it, but I wouldn’t hug back, I’d keep it quick, I’d never initiate, and I definitely wouldn’t like it.

    I didn’t fool my friends for long though. They started to notice my lack of interest. They made comments like, “You have to hug back girl!” or “Come on, give me a real hug!”

    I wanted to vomit. I tried harder for a while. I tried acting like a warmer, more loving person, but it just felt fake.

    I let my discomfort build until one day I finally exploded, which is the case with most of the issues I’ve eventually had to face.

    My friend Laura picked the wrong girl to hug that day. I pushed her away and yelled, “STOP HUGGING ME! What is the matter with you?” Then addressing all of my girlfriends I pleaded, “Why do you always want to hug? Can’t we just keep to ourselves?”

    At this point, I should probably put fears to rest and mention that I was never inappropriately touched. By anyone. No uncle. No neighbor.

    I actually wasn’t touched much at all, which may be part of the problem. I come from a close-knit family; growing up they never missed a single soccer game and today they never miss a single funny email forward. We’ve just never been close in the physical sense. (more…)

  • Living in Extremes: Releasing the Need for Chaos and Control

    Living in Extremes: Releasing the Need for Chaos and Control

    “There is more to life than increasing its speed.” ~Gandhi

    The next time I feel it urgent to text someone off Craigslist after 11pm, I may think twice.

    I was obsessed with attaining the body of a fitness model. I had recently been laid off and when life gets tough, I go to work—on my abs. It’s hard to accept that I can’t sweat away my troubles or make my problems magically disappear by tightening my thighs.

    I tend to be a little high-strung, and excessive exercise helps me cope. Or, it possibly just adds more fuel to the fire. Whichever it is, during this particular fitness frenzy I found myself at a Starbucks near LAX waiting for the Craigslist seller I texted the night before. He had what I needed, and at half the price.

    I have since learned that when you say, “Let’s meet at thatStarbucks by the airport,” both parties need to be very specific about which one “that”is.

    I’ve heard stories where one person is at this Starbucks while the other is at the store two blocks down, but I never considered the possibility of mixing up three locations.

    I got to the first Starbucks and looked for my seller. He said he’d be wearing a black jacket. I told him I’d be wearing workout clothes, as I’d be coming straight from my Barry’s Bootcamp class in West Hollywood. He didn’t need to know this, but I tend to give out unnecessary details.

    When I opened the door to enter the Starbucks, it was the type of entry that brings with it a gust of wind – blowing everyone’s hair and rustling their papers. Since all eyes were now glaring at me, it was hard to tell who was looking because they were selling and who was just pissed off.

    I felt one man looking longer in my direction than the others. I walked up to him and whispered, “Are you the guy with the P90X?” He paused for a moment and then laughed, “No, I’m not.”

    If I had asked someone in, oh I don’t know, Minnesota for P90X, they would probably call the cops. In L.A., the familiarity obviously skewed high. This man knew right off that I was referring to Tony Horton’s 90-Day Extreme Home Fitness Workout DVD Program, and not a new blend of Ecstasy.

    I realized what I must have looked like to that man in my gym clothes trying to score P90X from the streets. I appeared to be an obsessive fitness fiend! I was feeling pretty embarrassed when I got a text from my seller: “Running 15 minutes late. Sorry.” (more…)