A personal hugging account

Hugging strangers was not on my to-do list for the day.

I wasn’t in the mood for hugs. It was cold, and I was tired after a long week. But I threw on my coat and slipped on my warmest boots and headed to the Sample Gates. My plan: interview and observe the Free Huggers during their weekly two-hour campaign.

I’m not a touchy-feely kind of a person. Content with keeping my hands to myself, I stood awkwardly to the side as the three campaigners embraced all willing passersby.

Still, part of me wanted to see what all the smiling and laughing was about. So I set down my pen and picked up a piece of poster board. I felt my face heating up, but I took a deep breath and gave myself a quick pep talk: I’m going to give a free hug, and it’s going to be awesome.

At first, I think people could tell I was a “free hugs virgin” because they seemed to gravitate toward the more experienced huggers. 

Right away, one girl walked toward me and made eye contact. I thought she was coming to give me a free hug. I dropped one end of my sign so I could hug her. Instead, I felt the icy sting of rejection as she chose a veteran hugger.

Later, a guy came up and hugged all of us. Twice. After that, I started giving more hugs than I could count.

The longer I stayed, the more comfortable I got. I hugged for the entire two hours. By the end of the afternoon, my fingers and toes were completely numb.

As I was rushing off to Starbucks to warm up, I realized my stress from the week was gone.

The fun I had was definitely worth fighting a little frost.