Most Days I Want to Disappear, Other Days I Just Want to Be Hugged and hugged and hugged…
Some days, I wake up and wish the world would be still. I wish I could melt into the shadows, slip between the cracks, and vanish into a silence where no one expects anything of me. On those days, disappearing feels like relief, like pressing pause on the noise, the pressure, the endless stream of be more, do more, give more.
But then there are the other days. The ones where my heart aches not for space, but for closeness. The days when I want nothing more than to be held, to be hugged and hugged and hugged until the walls inside me soften. On those days, I don’t want to disappear; I want to be seen, held, and loved without explanation.
And maybe that’s the hardest part of being human, learning to carry both of these truths at the same time.
The Tug-of-War Between Disappearing and Wanting Connection
When I think back, I realise I’ve always lived between these two extremes. I remember being younger, lying on my bed staring at the ceiling fan, wondering if anyone would understand the need to just be still. I remember those days vividly because my roommate would always say ”It’s one of those days she wants to be left alone.” The feeling wasn’t dramatic; it wasn’t about endings, but about escape. About vanishing from the weight of responsibility, of doing, of repetition, of expectation, of constantly showing up.
But then, on the very same week, I could find myself craving the warmth of human closeness. A friend’s arm linked with mine. A long, tight hug that said without words: you don’t have to carry it all alone.
That back-and-forth rhythm is something so many of us quietly live with.
Why Do We Feel Like This?
Wanting to disappear and wanting to be hugged aren’t opposites; they’re two sides of the same coin. Both speak of a deep need: rest.
- When we want to disappear, what we’re often longing for is a break from being “on.” From responsibilities, social expectations, or the pressure to keep it together.
- When we want to be hugged, what we’re often longing for is reassurance, belonging, and the reminder that our presence matters.
It’s the same tired soul asking for different remedies.
Learning to Sit With Both
Most days, I’m learning not to shame myself for swinging between these two needs. Sometimes, remaining still looks like turning off my phone, closing the blinds, and giving myself permission to not be available. Other times, being hugged means texting a friend, walking into a room, or letting myself admit: I don’t want to be alone right now.
Both are valid. Both are necessary.
And maybe that’s the lesson: life isn’t always about choosing between silence and closeness. Sometimes it’s about honouring whatever your soul is asking for.
A Gentle Reminder
If you’ve ever whispered to yourself, I just want to be still, you’re not alone. If you’ve ever ached for arms around you, holding you through the mess, you’re not alone either.
Most days, I fall somewhere in between. And I’m learning that it’s okay. That the human heart was never designed to feel just one thing at a time.
So if today you want to disappear, give yourself permission to step back. And if tomorrow you want to be hugged and hugged and hugged, I hope someone’s arms find you.
Because both longings are human. Both are yours. And both are allowed.
If you made it to the end of this post, leave me a comment or like this post. Also, do check out my previous post on ‘Learning to Smell the Flowers, Even in Difficult Seasons’ here and check out the latest episode from my podcast here.
