THE INTIMACY AVERSE LOVER

When closeness isn't craved, and love still exists.

- Himshikha Shukla

In 1991, a young newlywed couple in Varanasi slept on a charpai so narrow they couldn't avoid touching each other, even if they wanted to. Every night, he turned toward the wall, she turned toward the open window, and they both pretended they weren't aware of the space—or the absence of it. They didn’t hold hands, didn’t whisper, didn’t cuddle. But every morning, he folded her saree with care before she went to work. She made him ginger tea without asking. Their intimacy lived in acts, not touch.

Cut to 2024, in Gurugram. Isha and Nikhil have been dating for seven months. They text all day, swap memes by the hour, and FaceTime before bed. He once mailed her a book because she mentioned a quote she liked. She sent him a voice note of her morning chaos—the traffic, the espresso machine hissing, her yawn. They’re emotionally close. But they’ve met only three times in person. The last time, he tried to hold her hand, and she gently withdrew. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m not a touch person.” Nikhil looked confused, maybe a little hurt. But she meant it. And not in the “not ready” kind of way. She just... didn’t want it.

We live in a time where physical intimacy is assumed. You go on two dates, and someone's already reaching for your fingers. By month three, they want to know why you don't like cuddling on the sofa. But some people, like Isha, are intimacy-averse by choice—not because of trauma, not because they were unloved as children, and not because they're “afraid to get close.” They simply don't crave physical affection. They're not broken. They're just built differently.