Please Don’t Touch Me (And What That Reveals About Congruency)

If you are anything like me
Introverted, demi-affectionate, “you don’t need to touch me,” analytical, overthinking, neurospicy

You know this feeling.

You may not always say it out loud.
Maybe you have a few times. Maybe not as nicely.

But you know the thought.

And if you are a woman, you likely know the feeling across many contexts.

Today I want to explore one in particular: intimate relationships.

And by intimate, I mean close. Partners, family, friends. People who know you.

I just realized something with my partner.

How much overthinking creates separation from my body.

It is very easy for me to stay in my mind. I am comfortable there. Things make sense there.

And if I’m being honest, I also stay there because I don’t have to be in my body.

Because being touched, with or without consent, brings me into my body. And sometimes that feels exhausting.

Some of that makes sense.

I grew up in a non-affectionate, male-dominated family.
Feelings weren’t really a thing.

And also in a big, loud, affectionate extended family where we didn’t talk about things, but we did hug everyone hello and goodbye.

Obligatory affection.

I dreaded it.

And now that I say that out loud, it makes even more sense.

Even as a child, I preferred staying in my head.

Most of my memories are not what I said.
They are what I thought.

Everything else gets filled in later.

So this isn’t just about touch. It’s about how we experience ourselves.

Some people remember through images. Some through thoughts. Some through feelings.

How you remember says a lot about how you relate to yourself, to others, and to the world.

Anywayyyyy

That feeling of: “I love you so much, and the thought of kissing you right now feels exhausting.”

I said that, in my own way, to my partner.

And then I realized something deeper:

Sometimes it is just easier to stay in my head.

Because being touched invites me into my body.

And being in my body requires energy.

When I stay in my mind or even in spirit, I can exist in a still, controlled, contained way.

But when I finally move, I realize I have been sitting in a position that hurts.

Disconnected.

Not noticing.

So here’s the point.

I can call it “thinking.”

But if I’m honest, it’s not fully congruent thinking.

Because true awareness would include my mind, my body, and my spirit.

And when I am disconnected from my body, I am disconnected from a third of myself.

That’s not partial incongruence.

That’s real incongruence.

So the next time you don’t want to be touched
And you set that boundary

Good. You have every right to.

AND also check in.

What is happening for you?

Is it the other person? Is it the context? Or is it something within yourself?

If it’s internal, go deeper.

Is it discomfort with sensation? Is it disconnection from your body? Is it exhaustion?

Is it that you have spent the entire day managing not only your own internal world but someone else’s, too?

Because sometimes it’s not that you don’t want connection.

It’s that you have no capacity left to feel it.

Bonus thought

If you are overfunctioning for someone, mentally, emotionally, or relationally, you may not have the capacity to experience physical connection.

Not because you don’t care.

But because your system is already maxed out.

Somewhat Congruent,

Candice

P.S. In my Aggressively Human archive, I go a layer deeper into what sometimes sits underneath “don’t touch me” the quieter truth: don’t touch me, I am scared. If this piece resonated, one might feel at home.