When a Hug Feels Like Too Much: A Mom’s Journey Back to Touch

I met Tali on a chilly evening at the clinic. She sat down and began to share her story.

“I’m 34, a mother of six,” she said. “I feel like I didn’t receive enough guidance before my wedding, and that led to many difficulties. I’ve turned to rabbis. I’ve tried therapy. Nothing really helped. I feel desperate.”

She paused for a moment, then continued.

“I struggle with touch. It’s very hard for me when people come close to me, even in simple, everyday situations. If someone stands next to me in the kitchen, I immediately feel tense and irritable. Even my children approaching me makes me jumpy. I plan my movements so I can stay as far away as possible.”

When Closeness Feels Overwhelming

Tali described how this sensitivity affected every part of her life.

“When a child comes into the kitchen just to take a piece of fruit, it already becomes stressful for me. I worry they might come too close.”

“I avoid situations where my children might touch me, even during warm family moments. On Friday night, I try to prevent them from coming close after Kiddush. I don’t let them help me serve, because that would mean being near me.”

Her voice softened.

“My husband offers to help with Shabbat preparations, but I push him away with excuses. Just the thought of him standing next to me creates tension. So I end up doing everything alone, which leaves me exhausted, frustrated, and overwhelmed.”

She shared how even small choices were shaped by this struggle.

“I prefer sitting in an armchair instead of a couch, so no one can sit too close to me. I avoid certain clothes because the feeling bothers me. Even wearing a necklace feels irritating.”

The Pain Behind the Distance

“For years I’ve been living like this,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “My children don’t get hugs from me.”

She paused, trying to steady herself.

“I’m jealous of my husband. On Friday night, the kids gather around him, climbing on him, laughing. I watch from the side. I feel outside of it. Alone.”

“I know this is affecting my relationship with my children, my marriage, and the whole atmosphere at home. I feel ashamed. I don’t know what to tell my children when they ask me, ‘Mom, why?’”

The guilt weighed heavily on her.

“I criticize myself all the time. That only makes things worse. I feel like I’m constantly on edge. Small things irritate me. Sometimes I explode. Even the children’s joy can overwhelm me.”

She looked at me with uncertainty.

“I’ve been living like this for so many years. I don’t know if I can ever feel different.”

Setting a Goal

After listening carefully and understanding the depth of her struggle, I asked her a simple question.

“What would you want to change?”

Her answer came immediately.

“I want this to be behind me. I want to hug my children with warmth. I want to feel calm and at peace. I want closeness not to scare me.”

“What are you willing to do to get there?” I asked.

“Everything,” she said with determination.

The Process of Change

Once we identified the thoughts and patterns that were maintaining her difficulty, we began working together step by step.

The process was gradual and supportive. It was not just about learning techniques, but about creating a new way of experiencing life.

Week by week, something began to shift.

What had once felt fixed and unchangeable slowly started to open. Tali discovered strengths within herself that she had not believed existed.

A New Reality

As the process unfolded, her words began to change.

“It feels like a new world opened up for me,” she shared.

“I can play with my children now. It doesn’t overwhelm me anymore. They help me around the house, and we actually enjoy it together.”

“I hug them, and it feels good. We bake together. I enjoy being close to them.”

She smiled as she continued.

“They sit around me while I read them a story. Something that once felt impossible is now natural.”

“We even went shopping together, and I didn’t feel the need to avoid closeness.”

“At the Shabbat table, they sit near me, and it feels pleasant. I used to sit far away just to keep distance.”

Her voice filled with emotion.

“I feel free. I feel calm. The atmosphere at home has completely changed. There’s warmth, there’s joy. The change in me changed everything around me.”

She paused, then added quietly:

“I thank Hashem every day. My life turned from one extreme to the other.”

A Therapist’s Reflection

As a therapist, walking alongside Tali in this journey was deeply meaningful.

Seeing someone move from pain, distance, and isolation into connection, calm, and joy is what gives this work its purpose.

There are so many women and families facing quiet struggles like this. With the right support, patience, and process, change is possible. Strength and healing often exist within, waiting to be uncovered.