I gave up hugging people just before Christmas; I thought it was for the best. I’m in my mid-50s, possibly a bit smelly and live in fear of coming over as a bit creepy. I work with a lot of young people, at least half of them women, who are mostly in their 20s, and it was getting harder and harder to pull off a brotherly hug when the hugs were feeling fatherly or even grandfatherly. Or just, you know, a bit creepy.
Several months on, reviewing this first phase of my post-hugging life, I believe I took the right decision. Put it this way: I really can’t think of anyone I’ve met who I’ve sensed felt short-changed by the absence of a hug from me. I have seen no cloud of disappointment pass over anyone’s face. No one seems to be feeling left out, least of all younger women, who, unsurprisingly I suppose – turn out to be decidedly comfortable with a handshake.
