Episode Transcript
[00:00:00] Ever wanted to just melt into someone's arms only to feel them stiffen up, pull away, or seem like their skin is electrified? Or maybe you're the one who loves someone but your body screams enough after a minute of contact. Or you crave touch so much it aches but you don't know how to ask. Or you've been told your needs are too much. You're not alone and you're not broken. Today we're diving into the raw, awkward and deeply human world of touch hunger and what happens when our bodies and nervous systems want different things.
[00:00:34] We'll talk about the longing, the shame, the stories we inherit and the creative negotiation that real intimacy actually requires for neurodivergent, queer, fat disabled and trauma impacted folks. This episode is for you. Hey loves, it's Dr. Misty here with another episode of Untamed Ember.
[00:00:54] This episode is about touch hunger.
[00:00:57] Lets really talk about touch hunger. Not just as a fleeting feeling, but as a deep body level need that so many of us carry around quietly, often thinking it makes us weird, broken or needy.
[00:01:11] It's way more than I wish someone would just hug me today. Touch hunger is the ache in your bones when you haven't felt safe hands on your skin in weeks. The low level buzz of loneliness is even in a crowded room, the craving for contact that won't be satisfied by words or screen time or sending love emojis.
[00:01:33] Biologically, humans are wired for touch from birth.
[00:01:37] It's one of our first languages. Babies who aren't held or soothed don't just get cranky, their brains actually develop differently. Touch boosts oxytocin, that's the sweet bonding hormone.
[00:01:51] It lowers cortisol, eases anxiety, improves immune function and helps regulate the heart and the nervous system.
[00:02:00] If you've ever noticed. You breathe deeper, your jaw unclenches, or you suddenly want to cry when someone hugs you just right. That's your body shifting towards safety. That's regulation, not weakness. But somewhere along the way, especially in the west, touch gets rationed, sexualized, pathologized or policed. We live more isolated than ever, especially post pandemic. People are busy moving for work, living alone or just too exhausted to offer more than a fist bump or the world's most awkward side hug.
[00:02:35] Even in relationships, you can end up skin hungry, sharing a bed but not sharing real, affirming touch.
[00:02:43] And here's where it gets especially tangled for neurodivergent, queer, fat disabled and trauma impacted folks.
[00:02:50] Many of us grew up getting the message explicitly or in a thousand Subtle ways that our bodies weren't safe, weren't wanted or weren't deserving of tenderness. Maybe touch was used to punish, control or manipulate. Maybe it was withheld as discipline or only ever given on someone else's terms.
[00:03:10] Maybe the only touch you got was clinical or functional, not affectionate. Therapists, doctors, caregivers. But not hugs, cuddles or loving squeezes. For some, touch was always conditional. Be good and you get a hug. Lose weight and you'll get affection.
[00:03:26] Mask your stimming and maybe you'll get a pat on the back. If your sensory needs were too much or not normal, touch could even become something you learned to hide, apologize for or just avoid.
[00:03:39] All of that shapes your adult nervous system.
[00:03:42] Some people become starved for touch, longing so much it hurts, but feeling too ashamed to ask. Others pull away, numb out or stay in survival mode, never letting anyone close.
[00:03:55] And many are caught in between, craving touch but unsure how to seek it safely or fearing it will always come with strings attached. Touch hunger can show up as restlessness, insomnia, a sense of itchiness under your skin or an ache in your chest that nothing else seems to fill. It can make you irritable, sad, hypersocial, or even compulsively seeking intimacy just to get a scrap of what your body's screaming for.
[00:04:23] It's not just about loneliness. It's about the physical and emotional regulation that comes from contact, from being seen, from being held, literally and figuratively. And here's the science backed part. Chronic touch deprivation is linked to higher rates of depression, anxiety, immune dysregulation and even earlier mortality.
[00:04:45] We are not meant to go without touch, but so many of us do.
[00:04:50] And if you're listening and thinking, but I'm not partnered or I don't want touch to be sexual, that's the point. Touch hunger isn't about sex. It's about co regulation, about being anchored to the present, to your own body and to the community or chosen family that reminds you you are not alone here. Your longing isn't wrong. Your need isn't shameful.
[00:05:13] Some folks try to fill the hunger with self touch, weighted blankets, baths, skincare rituals, deep pressure, or even just lying under a pile of laundry to feel some kind of contact.
[00:05:25] Others numb it with busyness, food or digital connection that leaves the body cold and still. Others swing between desperate seeking and total shutdown, never quite sure if it's safe to ask, safe to need, or safe to feel.
[00:05:41] Here's what I want you to hear. Rebels. If you are touch hungry, you are not broken. If you don't know how to ask for what you need, or if your need is bigger than what you're being offered, that's not a moral failure. It's a survival adaptation to a world that rarely honors the body's truth.
[00:06:00] Your hunger is evidence of your capacity for connection, not a defect.
[00:06:05] So as we talk about touch, hunger and mismatched needs, today I want you to check in with your own body. Notice. Are you starved for contact? Are you touched out? Do you even know you're allowed to need more or less? You're allowed to be complicated. And you're allowed to start telling the truth about it out loud, in community, or even just to yourself.
[00:06:28] Let's get even more honest. If you've ever felt the ache of wanting more touch than your partner, friends or family can give, or if you've felt a creeping sense of overwhelm or irritation when someone reaches out for you, it's not just you. Mismatched touch needs are nearly universal, but rarely talked about with any real nuance or compassion.
[00:06:51] And if you're neurodivergent, queer, fat, disabled or carrying trauma, multiply it.
[00:06:56] Most of us inherit the myth that real love means always wanting the same things. But the reality is, even the best, most attuned relationships are full of these tiny disconnections.
[00:07:08] Maybe you're the one who wants to be wrapped up like a human burrito while your partner needs a literal six foot buffer to breathe. Maybe your friends are huggers and you're not. Or vice versa.
[00:07:20] Maybe in your polycule or communal home, everyone's needs pull in a hundred directions and there's no perfect venn diagr of touch satisfaction.
[00:07:29] Why are touch mismatches so common? Because our bodies and brains are shaped by wildly different factors. For neurodivergent folks, sensory processing differences are often the core issue. Not just liking or disliking touch, but how your nervous system registers it. Some people with ADHD or autism or trauma survivors crave deep pressure, intense cuddling or rhythmic touch. It's not just comfort, it's actual regulation.
[00:07:58] For others, certain touches, light, unpredictable or prolonged, can trigger overwhelm, shutdown or even panic.
[00:08:06] Some days you crave being enveloped in warmth. Other days the thought of anyone in your bubble is too much. Then there are all the invisible factors that shift touch needs. Medication can blunt or intensify sensation Hormones. Think pms, hrt, pregnancy, menopause, puberty. Those can turn you into a touch fiend one week and then a cactus the next. Pain and chronic illness make Some forms of touch soothing and others excruciating.
[00:08:37] Mental health struggles like depression, anxiety or PTSD change how your body processes proximity, safety and even desire. Culture and family scripts set norms about touch that are often at odds and who gets to initiate what kind of touch is allowed and how much is enough before it becomes clingy, childish or for some, touch is associated with safety, comfort and joy. For others, it might be mixed up with fear, obligation or even performance, especially for those taught to mask their needs or to make others comfortable at their own expense. Maybe you grew up in a family where nobody touched unless someone was dying, or where every small achievement was met with a giant bear hug. Maybe you learned to tolerate touch you didn't want or to go without, and your body adapted to scarcity. Maybe trauma wired your system to associate closeness with risk. Or maybe it left you hungrier than ever. For proof you're wanted now. Bring two or more bodies together and things get messy fast.
[00:09:44] One partner needs constant, soothing touch to feel safe and connected. The other feels physically drained by too much proximity, needs alone time to recharge, or simply doesn't register the absence of touch. In the same way in friendships, one person might want platonic cuddling, a quick hand squeeze or a friend to lean against, while another is more comfortable with words, shared activities or gifts.
[00:10:11] In family, a kid might crave lap time well past when parents think it's age appropriate. Or an elder might long for affectionate touch after years of being treated only as a patient or a chore.
[00:10:25] Here's the radical Mismatched touch needs aren't a failure of love, communication or compatibility.
[00:10:32] They're the natural result of different nervous systems trying to coexist in a world that rarely honors these differences.
[00:10:39] They shift over time, too. What felt good last month may feel unbearable today, and vice versa. And if you're the touch starved one, you might start to internalize shame. Am I too much? Am I needy? Why can't I just get over it? If you're the touched out one, you might feel guilty, pressured or afraid that your limits make you cold, unloving or a bad partner or friend. The shame spiral on both sides is real and often unspoken.
[00:11:08] In neurodivergent, queer, fat or disabled bodies, this is amplified by a lifetime of being policed, pathologized or ignored. Taught that your needs are burdensome or your boundaries are overreacting, you might have even learned to stop asking to mask your desire or discomfort, or to give in to touch you don't want just to keep the peace. Here's the antidote. Start by noticing, then naming your patterns.
[00:11:35] Reflect on what your body actually wants today, in this season with this person. Dare to ask, Dare to say no. Hold space for your own changing needs and for the different, sometimes conflicting needs of the people you love. Because true intimacy isn't about perfectly matching up. It's about being brave enough to admit we don't always want the same thing, and that's okay.
[00:11:59] It's about curiosity, negotiation and building trust that you can get creative together instead of suffering alone.
[00:12:06] Let's really pull back the curtain on all the places these mismatched touch needs play out. Because it's not just about what happens between the sheets or in a dimly lit bedroom. The touch hunger dance and the awkward, aching, sometimes even joyful mismatched that comes with it shows up in every arena of our lives.
[00:12:27] Here's the stereotype. One partner is a cuddle octopus who wants to be draped across the other 24 7, and the other is a human space heater who overheats at the first sign of spooning.
[00:12:40] Sometimes that's exactly how it plays out. Other times, it's way more nuanced. One partner wants affectionate touch but not sexual touch, or wants sex but not cuddling. One person might crave lots of public affection while the other feels exposed or even shamed by being touched in front of others.
[00:13:00] Even in sexually compatible relationships, the how much, what kind and when of touch can trigger friction, hurt feelings or spirals of rejection and resentment for neurodivergent or trauma impacted folks. That can include big swings, craving skin to skin contact one day and flinching at a simple caress the next, chronic pain, dysphoria, medication, or just having a sensory system that shifts with stress or hormones.
[00:13:29] All of this makes it even more unpredictable. What's rarely acknowledged is that these mismatches aren't failures of love or evidence of incompatibility.
[00:13:38] They're invitations for deeper communication, for ongoing negotiation, and for radical honesty about what feels good and what doesn't. Right now, platonic touch hunger is the elephant in every adult living room. Most adults, especially in Western cultures, simply stop being touched unless they're partnered. And even in friendships where touch feels safe, there are unspoken scripts about who gets to initiate, how long is okay to hug, and when physical affection crosses some invisible line into awkward or too much.
[00:14:14] Some friend groups are hug factories, cuddling through movie nights and puppy piles.
[00:14:19] Others might recoil at the idea of anything more than a quick shoulder path.
[00:14:25] You might be the friend who longs to lean into someone's side on a bad day or the one who feels claustrophobic at the idea of sharing a blanket. Queer and neurodivergent friendships in particular, may find both relief and new confusion here. In some circles, touch is radical and reclaimed. In others, there's still a fear of being too much or of touch being misread. There's also a racial and body politics layer. Black and brown bodies are policed and hypersexualized in public, while fat, disabled and visibly neurodivergent folks often find themselves either invisibilized or treated as if they're not supposed to want or deserve affectionate touch.
[00:15:07] In communal living, polycules and chosen family, it's a constant recalibration. Who needs what, who's left out, who gets priority, and how do you prevent one person from being the designated comfort blanket for everyone else?
[00:15:22] For parents and caregivers, especially those who are neurodivergent or raising neurodivergent kids, touch needs can get really complex. Some kids want to be held, rocked and cuddled for years.
[00:15:35] Others hit a touch repulsion phase at 3 or 12 or 20, and parents can grieve the sudden distance.
[00:15:42] Siblings may be on totally different touch spectrums, sparking everything from squabbles to unspoken pain.
[00:15:50] And then there's the adult child or elder who aches for more non clinical touch but doesn't know how to ask.
[00:15:57] Polyamorous families and households with multiple adults face even more layers, a web of needs and boundaries that shift daily, hourly with stress, with hormones, with emotional safety and with the number of bodies in the house. Who gets to be visibly affectionate in public?
[00:16:14] This is where social justice meets touch hunger in a big way. Fat folks, disabled folks, people of color and queer couples are often scrutinized, stared at or even shamed for being touch positive in public. If they're not ignored entirely, a thin, straight CIS couple can hold hands or kiss in the street with barely a glance, while a fat queer couple may get side eye commentary or outright harassment.
[00:16:42] Wheelchair users, people with mobility devices and folks who need touch for regulation think stimming, hand holding or rocking can be infantilized or pathologized for seeking comfort in ways that don't match the script.
[00:16:56] Many learn to police themselves going touchless in public or masking their needs for safety. This isn't just a personal struggle, it's a political issue about whose bodies are seen as worthy, safe or lovable.
[00:17:09] In queer, neurodivergent or activist spaces, there's sometimes an intentional reclamation of Touch consent workshops, cuddle parties, platonic intimacy circles, bodywork as community care.
[00:17:22] But even here, not everyone feels safe or seen or able to participate. The myth that community will meet all your needs falls apart when people are running on different timelines, triggers or sensory profiles.
[00:17:36] Touch hunger can be amplified by group energy or soothed by finding even one person whose nervous system gets yours. Waiting rooms, parties, even just hanging out on the couch at home all become arenas for the dance of too much, not enough. Maybe later.
[00:17:53] The way you brush past a partner in the kitchen, the tension when a friend sits too close or too far, the awkwardness of asking for a hug at the end of a hard day.
[00:18:03] These micro movements add up over time. Over time, the mismatch can become a background hum of sadness, loneliness, guilt or resignation. And yet, when we name it, get creative and honor the real complexity of touch needs, these everyday moments can also become the birthplace of new rituals, new permissions and new kinds of intimacy.
[00:18:27] The question isn't how do we make our bodies match up perfectly? It's how do we honor what's true for each of us and still find ways to be close, connected and safe?
[00:18:38] Because wherever there are bodies, messy longing, overwhelmed or shy, there will be mismatches. The real magic comes when we make those mismatches visible and work together to meet as many needs as possible without shame or self betrayal. Let's get honest about what's underneath the surface of touch, hunger and mismatched needs, grief and shame. Because it's not just awkward. When your body wants something different from your partner, friend or family, it can cut deep. It can bring up old wounds, internalized messages and a pain that's as much about belonging as it is about skin. For many, unmet touch hunger is a real, persistent ache. It's the silent mourning for the kind of closeness you see other people getting. A cuddle on the couch, a handheld on a walk, a friend's arm thrown over your shoulder in solidarity.
[00:19:31] You might feel it as a physical tightness, a chest ache, or a restlessness that you can't name. It's easy to believe this longing is trivial, but it's not. The body knows what it needs. And when it's chronically deprived, especially after trauma, loss or years of masking, it can feel like heartbreak. If you've spent months or years negotiating with yourself, maybe I just need less than other people. Don't make a fuss. Don't be needy. The grief piles up. For some, the lack of touch can even spiral into numbness or dissociation. A sense that your body is disappearing from your own life.
[00:20:12] Sometimes the grief comes up from a change. Touch that was once abundant is suddenly gone. A breakup, a friendship ending, a loved one moving, a child, growing up and pulling away chronic illness or pain, making old forms of touch impossible, or simply moving to a new phase of life where everyone's too busy or too exhausted. On the other side is the guilt, sometimes overwhelming, of not being able to offer touch when someone you love wants it. Maybe you're overwhelmed by sensory input, pain, or emotionally spent.
[00:20:46] Maybe you just need space.
[00:20:48] But saying no can trigger a landslide of self doubt. What's wrong with me? Am I cold? Am I letting them down?
[00:20:55] If you grew up being taught that your job is to soothe, please or take care of others, especially if you're socialized as a girl, femme or caregiver, this can bring up deep shame.
[00:21:07] You might override your own body to avoid hurting someone else and end up resenting them or yourself, or both.
[00:21:14] So much of this pain is rooted in stories we've absorbed about touch. Stories written by ableist, fatphobic, racist, heteronormative, patriarchal and trauma centric cultures. If you're in a marginalized body, you might have learned early that your longing is too much inappropriate or unwelcome. If you were punished, shamed or simply ignored for wanting touch as a child your body remembers, you might have been told, don't hang on me. Big boys or girls don't need cuddles, or people like us don't show affection.
[00:21:48] And for many neurodivergent, fat, disabled or queer folks, there's an added layer. Fat bodies are so often desexualized or fetishized, rarely shown casual affection and policed for being too close.
[00:22:02] Disabled folks are offered touch only in clinical or functional ways, rarely for pleasure or comfortable.
[00:22:10] Racialized bodies are hypersexualized, demonized or rendered invisible. Public affection can be risky, policed or outright punished. Neurodivergent folks may have their touch needs pathologized. Why are you so clingy? Why don't you like hugs? What's wrong with you? When really it's about regulation, not preference.
[00:22:31] Over time, these stories burrow deep. They become internal monologues. No one wants to touch me. I'm too sensitive. I need to toughen up. If I ask, I'll be a burden.
[00:22:42] You might learn to take what you can get or accept touch that isn't right for you, out of fear that it's your only shot at connection. But here's the untamed ember truth.
[00:22:53] Your grief is evidence of your capacity for connection and not a flaw. Your shame is a story the world handed you, not your destiny.
[00:23:03] Wanting more is not too much. Needing less is not a failure.
[00:23:08] Real intimacy and community come from naming these truths, not hiding them, from daring to say, this is what I want or this is what I can give, even if it's messy, awkward or new. When you share your grief and guilt even just with yourself, even in a voice memo or a journal, you start to untangle them from shame. You let in air and light.
[00:23:32] You make space for negotiation, for new scripts, and for hope. You are not the only one who feels this way, and you never were.
[00:23:40] So you've named your hunger, your boundaries or your confusion. And now what?
[00:23:46] How do you actually live with mismatched touch needs without turning every night into a standoff, every friendship into a guessing game, or every community into an emotional triage center? Here's where the real work and the magic begins. Before you can collaborate, you have to stop pretending. That means saying out loud, awkwardly, bravely, maybe for the first time, I think I want more or less touch than you do. Or I'm realizing my needs are shifting. You might be surprised how much relief this brings.
[00:24:20] So much of the pain comes from guessing, masking or trying to win at touch rather than admitting that everyone's needs and capacities change.
[00:24:30] Borrowed from the world of trauma, therapy and kink, a touch menu is a non shaming way to map out all the kinds of contact that exist. Not just yes or no, but what kind, how much, where and when? Sit down together, partners, friends, even as a family or a house and brainstorm what kinds of touch are on the menu? Hugs, hand holding, back rubs, cuddling, sitting side by side, feet touching, deep pressure, soft caresses, hair stroking, etc. What feels good, always, sometimes, never or on special occasions?
[00:25:06] What's your go to when you're touch starved but your people are touched out? Weighted blankets, self massage, pets, baths, even certain clothes or fabrics.
[00:25:18] Some folks find it easier to write this down, text it or use emojis. Visual menus can help neurodivergent folks and those with communication differences.
[00:25:28] Here are some real world untamed ember style scripts you can try Would you be open to a five minute cuddle? Then we can check in and see if we both want to keep going or take a break. I want closeness but I'm feeling sensory overload. Can we sit together and hold hands instead of a full body hug?
[00:25:46] My touch tank is empty. Can I get a back rub or is there something else you could offer that feels doable for you? I'm touched out, but I want to connect. How about we make tea together or just sit side by side for a bit? Is there something you need for comfort right now? What would make your body feel safe or cared for?
[00:26:05] The goal isn't to force a yes, but to expand the menu so there's more than just all or nothing. You might discover that a quick squeeze, a foot rub, or even a shared blanket counts as meaningful contact.
[00:26:20] Make negotiations and check ins a regular low stakes ritual, not just something you do in a crisis or after a fight.
[00:26:28] Maybe you have a weekly touch talk, a text check in? What's your touch meter at today? Or a visual signal like a token? A color, a stuffed animal, a certain emoji that means I'm open for touch or I need space for polycules, roommates or families. Consider a whiteboard or a group chat. My touch level today is green for hug Me, yellow for ask first, or red for not today. Thanks.
[00:26:56] Kids and teens can be invited to create their own touch menus and signals, empowering everyone to own their boundaries and their hunger.
[00:27:05] Sometimes the answer is not right now or not with this person. You're allowed to grieve that, but also to get creative. Self touch and self soothing are a great mechanism. Weighted blankets, stuffed animals, self massage, hot showers, lotions, movement or even lying in the sunlight. Or try platonic or community touch. Explore touch, positive spaces, bodywork, or even just sitting with friends in physical proximity.
[00:27:30] You can also get creative with touch surrogates, pets, favorite clothes, cozy textures, or safe spaces where your body can relax and remind yourself you deserve comfort, even if it doesn't always come in the form you imagined.
[00:27:45] Remember, not all intimacy requires touch. Words of affirmation, shared activities, quality time, gifts, acts of service. These can all become rituals of care when touch isn't available or wanted to.
[00:27:59] Invite curiosity, not compliance. How can we meet in the middle? Today might look very different every week, and that's not a failure. It's adaptability in action.
[00:28:10] If you're building community, normalize talking about touch. Create explicit group agreements about consent, asking and opt outs. Practice saying no with warmth and celebrating creative yeses.
[00:28:24] Here's your untamed ember permission slip. You're allowed to want more. You're allowed to need less. You're allowed to change your mind, renegotiate or experiment. You're allowed to be messy and not have it all figured out.
[00:28:37] The goal isn't perfect harmony, it's honest collaboration, ongoing communication and building trust that everyone's nervous system matters. So what do you do with all of this? Maybe you're listening and feeling relief. Finally, someone is naming what you've felt for years.
[00:28:55] Or maybe you're grieving, angry or overwhelmed, realizing just how much you've been denying your body's truth. Maybe you're inspired but unsure how to start.
[00:29:05] All of those responses are welcome here this week. Let yourself get curious. How does your body tell you it's hungry for touch? Is it an ache? An itch? A restlessness? A sadness? A tension you carry in your chest, your hands or your jaw?
[00:29:22] Or maybe it's the opposite. A sense of overload, needing space? A skin crawling urge to pull away? There's no right answer. Just notice. Maybe journal about it, Record a voice memo or send yourself a note. Ask yourself what kind of touch would feel good right now? With whom? For how long? What's the easiest, lowest pressure place to start? If it feels safe, share a piece of what you're discovering.
[00:29:49] You don't have to launch into a TED Talk about your touch history. You could say I'm realizing I get antsy when we haven't hugged. Or sometimes my skin feels so sensitive I need extra space. Can we check in about it together? If you have a partner, a friend, a roommate, or a kid who might get it, share this episode and invite them into the conversation. Even just naming, I think I want to experiment with more or less touch this week. Are you open to that? Can open a world?
[00:30:19] This isn't about mastering a new routine or getting a gold star for best communicator. The point is to try things on, see what works and be honest when it doesn't. Maybe you try a touch menu, a solo ritual, or a new way to ask for a hug. Maybe you find a script that you love, or you realize you hate scripts and just want to use signals. All of it is valid. Permission to adjust, opt out, and come back later. This is how we build community that can actually hold us, not just tolerate us. And if you have a touch mismatch moment, a new ritual, a surprising success or awkward fail, DM me, email me, or share with me on social media.
[00:31:04] You might even hear your story on a future episode. With your consent, of course.
[00:31:09] Your honesty can give someone else the courage to tell their truth too. There's no moral high ground for needing less or wanting more. Your body isn't a problem to solve. It's a source of information, power, and possibility.
[00:31:23] The world will try to tell you that intimacy means perfect alignment but real connection is built in the negotiation, the creative repair, and the brave moments of saying, this is what I need. What about you?
[00:31:38] If you want, take a deep breath with me right now and say out loud or in your heart, my hunger is not too much. My boundaries are not a betrayal. My needs are worth honoring. Starting now. This isn't just a podcast. It's an invitation to build rituals of touch and space, to grieve what you've never got, to fight for what you deserve, and to experiment with what healing actually feels like in your real, messy living body.
[00:32:07] If this resonated, share this episode with someone you wish you could be braver with. And if you haven't joined our newsletter yet, you can get free weekly freebies, bonus podcast episodes, and tips and tricks@untamed ember.kit.com and the link is also in the description of this podcast episode. And if you're a survivor, neurodivergent, fat, disabled, queer, poly, or any combination, know that this space was built with you in mind. Thank you for being here and until next time, keep untaming your truth. Keep holding space for your hunger, and remember, you are not too much. You are not, not enough. You are worthy of the touch you desire and the boundaries you hold, and you are right on time. See you next episode.
