You dread it, but they love it: here’s how to tell your family you’re hoping for a no-contact Christmas before they wrap their unwanted arms around you.
There is nothing like Christmas to bring the blow of family obligation hurtling through your otherwise enjoyable life like a wrecking ball. And there is nothing like having to be touched by someone you don’t want to be touched by to set Christmas off to a bad start – the moment you walk in the door.
As if things weren’t tense enough with your racist uncle Bernie – before listening to him rant across the dinner table, you first have to let him press his body up against yours and hold onto you for as long as he wants. You deal with the feeling, with the smells of other people, their too-strong grip. You deal with being passed from family member to friend to neighbour to distant relative each pressing their bodies against yours for exactly as long as they would like, until you find yourself at the end of the line, disassociating so hard you might as well be vacationing on an international space station.
Here are some ways to avoid this.
Soft launching your boundaries
1. Carry things in your arms, always, at all times. Is there a baby? Great, put them in your arms. A cat? That’ll do. Those old boxes of magazines your mum’s been meaning to put in the attic – pull your boots, by which I mean your arms. Carry them up to the attic and enjoy the descent down the stairs in which you can chill with all that free alone time. And remember to always bring something down from the attic too so that you’re never found without something cumbersome in your arms.
2. Make like Rudolph and redden your nose, carry a box of kleenex under your arm and if anyone approaches, hold them back with your hand outstretched and sneeze into a tissue. Then wave the hanky directly at them saying something like “hope I’m not getting sick!” in a cheery voice.
3. Put a sling on your arm so it looks like it’s broken or sprained. You can buy them at the chemist – literally no one can stop you and it’s not illegal to feign an injury to your family. Got a higher budget, want to treat yourself this Christmas? Why not invest in a pair of crutches, someone might still go for the you-no-arm/me-all-the-arms hug but you can easily avoid this by standing on one leg and waving your crutches around in front of you going “wooOOOooooOOOooo” like you’re just a fun octopus uncle.
OR
Hard launch your boundaries
1. Directly email the person you don’t want to hug one week before you’ll see them at Christmas, saying something like –
Dear _____,
I am looking forward to seeing you at Christmas.
In the past I have not enjoyed it when you touched my body, or came within five feet of it. This year, I would really appreciate you doing neither.
When I arrive, you will not need to hug me, in fact, you’ll need to not hug me. Let me know how this lands with you, and if there’s anything I can do to support you with this transition of our relationship.
See you there!
2. Say no to a hug in person, in the moment (the hardest option). When a person approaches you for a hug, turn your body slightly away from them and look away. If they don’t take this hint, turn harder away, until your back is essentially to them and you are conveniently noticing a bird out the window. If they open their arms as wide as their expectant grin, put a baby, cat, magazine box, hot chicken pan with leaky juices, or any other essential kitchen item straight into their arms. If they have the wherewithal to ask you if you would like a hug, say a very clear ‘No thank you’. Note: You will need to practice this because it won’t come to you in the moment.
Every day between now and Christmas, spend at least 10 full consecutive minutes in front of a mirror, holding out a hand and practising saying: “no”, “fuck no”, “hell no”, “not on your life, mate”, “no, I don’t want to”, “no thank you”, ‘”I do not want a hug”. The more you practice, the more your mouth will be caught by the safety net fascia of muscle memory and manage to do the job of protecting you.
Note: protecting yourself will be instantly followed by a rush of guilt which will pull you downwards, under the kitchen table to bite your lips while you consider the possible consequences of what you have just done. Put a pillow down there in advance so at least it’s comfy.
If all else fails, and you’re unable to set any of these boundaries, or if you discover that setting the boundaries never should have been your responsibility in the first place, just do the hug, just do all the damn hugs, but go for the 20/20/20 rule – every 20 minutes, walk outside for 20 minutes and then walk for another 20 minutes. That way you’ll have a 40-minute walk back to the house at which point you’ll have been gone for over an hour and people will have started to worry. When you get back everyone will be all like – “where were you?!” as they queue up to give you a second hug, giving you ample opportunity to choose one of the boundary options above. Give it another go! You deserve it, it’s Christmas.
Discussion about this post