I’ve written a lot about how my skin was hungry. Hungry for moisture, but also hungry for touch. For so long I yearned to be touched – dreaming of the times to come, remembering how long it had been since. Skin hunger is sensory deprivation, and it’s proven to result in a failure to thrive.
And now, I am touched, often.
My boy, he wants to touch me, and he doesn’t hold back for fear he might hurt me, or that much of me will end up on him (it’s inevitable with Ichthyosis).
He can’t get close enough, asking me to stop what I’m doing for a hug, holding my hand when we walk and drawing me close when we stop to wait for traffic to pass.
My skin hunger being satisfied has changed my life. At times my skin feels as smooth as his. I don’t wake up as scaly as I used to and I haven’t had an infection for months. Touch really does soothe it. Loving touch is healing. It’s more than pleasurable, it’s life-giving.
I’m a marsupial in the warm pouch of his arms.
I fall asleep on his chest, my ear hearing that his heart beats fastest when I’m close.
He’s the big spoon and I’m the little one, my body shining with warmth.
His touch is a salve – as critical to my needs as my cream is.
Some have said I’m glowing since I’ve found this love.
I think he’s my sunshine, making me glow, and grow.
My skin hunger is satisfied and it’s most wonderful. I’m thriving.
Visit my series on skin hunger: