To Touch Without Having To

A journey from receiving to giving.

In the beginning, there was only my body.
And a quiet longing to be touched—
not functionally, not goal-oriented,
but truly.
Slowly.
Mindfully.

I came to receive.
To feel what touch is like
when nothing is expected of me.
When my body doesn’t have to respond.
When closeness comes without demand.

Learning to receive
In the first session, I lay there—
naked, but not exposed.
Touched, but not taken.
Held, without being held onto.

Suddenly there was space
for things that rarely have space to exist:
Shame. Desire. Silence. Trembling. Longing.
And there was someone
who could hold all of it—without judgment.

Something shifted
After a few sessions,
I noticed something awakening in me:
Not just the desire to receive—
but to give.

Not to repay,
not to please,
but from an inner fullness.

Because my body had remembered
how beautiful it is
to be allowed to touch—
without having to.

The shift in roles
The first time I touched someone in return,
I was surprised by the depth.
Not because I did something special,
but because I was present.

Fully aware.
Soft.
Close.

I didn’t have to perform.
I could simply feel.

Feel how skin responds beneath my hands.
How breath begins to soften.
How trust forms—
not through technique,
but through presence.

Touch as a gift
I had never learned to touch without intent.
Without a goal.
Without a function.

And now there was a person lying in front of me—
just as I once had lain there.
Open.
Brave.
Receptive.

And I was allowed to give.
Not because I had to.
But because not having to
felt so deeply beautiful.

A new view of intimacy
This experience changed me.
I learned:
Touch is not a transaction.
Not something to earn or perform.

But a space
where two bodies may meet—
honestly, gently, without masks.

I didn’t walk away “better,”
but richer.
Softer.
More connected.

And now I know:
To be allowed to touch—without having to—
is one of the quietest, deepest gifts there is.

*Eliz 2022