Clients say to me:
You just plunk yourself down beside me and that makes me feel safe. Like there’s nothing wrong with me or my body. I’m just normal.”
The way you rested your hand on my leg while you were touching me with the other hand, made me feel like you’re not scared to be close to me and that you’re okay with touching me.”
I’m a mother. I touch you with the same comfort that I touched my five babies. Carrying them on my back, breast feeding, sleeping beside them for years on end — I’m comfortable beside your body and I’m comfortable touching your body.
Legs overlapping legs.
Baby suckling my breast.
Inhaling sweet milk breath while I sleep.
Baby on my back.
Smelling sun sweat on their heads.
Covering the pee spot with a blanket until morning so I don’t have to get up.
My half asleep hands reaching in the dark to make sure they’re all still warm.
It wasn’t delicate. It wasn’t careful. It was normal life. It was getting the job done…..
Well…. sometimes it was delicate, and sometimes it was careful.
Tracing the contours of their skin with my fingers, over and over.
Feeling and learning their bodies textures and grooves like a map I never need to look at to remember.
Knowing who needs an extra hand of support today and who doesn’t, without asking.
Imagining the best possible reason for their behavior.
Empathizing with their emotions.
It’s an immersion in intimacy. It’s mothering. I didn’t learn it in any training or in any book. Others might, but for me this comfort came from living it with my children and then later learning to feel it with my own body. Mothering has been my greatest teacher.

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