Am I too old for hugs?  Sometimes, many times  I just want a hug. Not a put your arms around me for a second and give me a couple pats on the back or something. Although that would be nice too. I want someone to hold me. Give me a big long hug and tell me you love me.  

As if that’s not bad enough, I want my mommy. My mom has been dead since 1980, I believe.  I long to be held, cuddled, made to feel like everything is going to be alright. Even if it’s not “mommys’ always there for you”. I haven’t felt that since she died.  

Is it too much to ask to feel like that again?  Am I too old?  Should I be more grown up? Be over that by now?  Is it a result of my abuse, my abandonment?  Or just because she died when I was young?  Side note: I turned 52 this year. 

Good questions for my therapist tomorrow.   


About Avictimnomore

Lost soul, trying to find myself. Trying to learn to be a survivor of child sexual abuse, the death of my parents when I was a teen, and being disowned by my remaining family.
This entry was posted in adoption, adult survivor of child abuse, awareness, child abuse, death, depression and anxiety, depression awareness, love, parent death, sexual abuse, suicide, suicide prevention, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Hugs

  1. We are never too old of that! It may not be much but HUGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  2. One of the things that my therapist has reminded me for years is, we are all called to long for connection. God created us to be in connection a nd hugs and love is something we ALL NEED.. it doesn’t matter how old we are, we all need love, hugs and comfort, but it all depends on how we accept that. It took me a long long time to accept a hug and it started in therapy when my therapist gave me a hug and I learned what safe touch was .. I am 43 years old and NO you are never too old for comfort .. itssometimes needed but hard to accept 🙂 I get it …. Here is a virtual hug for you {{{{ HUG }}}} thank you for sharing!

  3. I think at any age one sometimes needs the warmth of a loving embrace… reassurance. I’m 62. At times I still want my Mom’s cool hand on my fevered forehead.

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