Hugging. Some of us like to be hugged, and some of us don’t.
I don’t mind being hugged. Don’t mind giving hugs either. Crushing bear hugs. Soft two-second hugs. Group hugs. One arm hugs. Whether we hug someone or not depends on how we feel about them. And how they feel about us.
We hug someone we barely know when we like them and feel like we can be friends or more. If we have a nice conversation going and maybe share a laugh hanging out with someone we don’t know well, we might hug them when saying hello or goodbye.
The past three months have been rough for me. Juggling a full time office job and being a writer and a blogger hasn’t been easy: clueless as to why I’m doing the job I’m doing, emails waiting to be answered in my inbox, unhappy with articles I’m working on as deadlines loom, five hours of sleep at most each night. Being sick with the winter flu hasn’t helped either.
I don’t mind eating alone. I don’t mind asking for a “table for one”.
But what I do mind is getting grief for dining by myself.
Ricotta hotcake with berries (Top Paddock). A great meal for one, but I chose to share it.
My Chinese-Malaysian parents are big on eating meals as a family, which is what many Asian families do. Growing up in Malaysia and Singapore, we ate dinner together almost every night. These days, it’s a different story. When I start putting my dinner on my plate before my brother is home, my mum asks, “Do you want to wait for your brother to come home and then eat?” No. No idea what time he’ll be back.