‘How to regain your personal space’. Image via Reddit.

Midwesterners are known to be friendly. There’s a reason the phrase “North Dakota nice” exists. We love to make people feel welcome. Everyone in the frigid tundra is practically family. Strangers are greeted with a wave and a pat on the back. A handshake or a brief hug is never enough. We need to make everyone feel welcome.

I have a problem with this touchy-feeliness.

Before you go dismissing me as a curmudgeon who doesn’t like people — an accusation I wouldn’t necessarily fight — let me explain. I have no problem meeting new people. I have no problem engaging in the socially required handshake or hug. I’ve even been known to give high fives on occasion. I do, however, have a problem with being touched by a stranger.

I realize this sounds contradictory to what I just said about handshakes and hugs, but there’s a difference. I don’t necessarily enjoy touching for the sake of politeness, and who really likes hugging Great Aunt Mildred who smells like mothballs? But I understand the point of it and the offense in denying it.

In North Dakotan society, it seems to me not touching the person you are talking to is to slight them. It means your attention is not on them or that you don’t care enough to break that barrier.

I’m not talking about the kinds of touches that occur between close family and friends. The touching I’m talking about is the much more casual and more frequent type you see in day-to-day interactions — the hand on the shoulder, the pat on the back, the clasping of hands while shaking hello. I don’t know what it is about North Dakota, but this type of touch is incredibly frequent.

Living in South Dakota, touching a relative stranger started at the hello handshake and ended at the goodbye handshake. I didn’t expect this to be different here, but from my experience, I’ve seen otherwise.

I’m not trying to offend when I cringe away from your hand on my elbow. My reaction doesn’t have much to do with you. I understand that the types of touch I’m discussing here are socially acceptable and are usually far from harassment. In fact, I rarely speak up about my discomfort. I usually cringe internally, acknowledge that the toucher had no ill intent and move on with my day.

The reasons to dislike being casually touched can vary widely. Maybe they remind one of sexual assault. Maybe another person is a germaphobe. Maybe there are religious reasons behind the aversion to touch. In the end, it doesn’t matter. We all deserve our personal bubbles.

I’m not saying you should never, under any circumstances, shake my hand.  My friends who know of my aversion have kindly but needlessly started worrying about popping the proverbial bubble. Sure, when in doubt, ask. I’ll never be angry at someone for asking if they can give me a pat on the back. I will however, be angry at a person for crossing boundaries they’ve not been given permission to cross. This is where friendship differs from acquaintance.

My friendships are built on trust. Just as I trust my friends to only playfully “hit” me in the arm, they trust me to speak up if it bothers me. However, an acquaintance hasn’t had the time to build that rapport with me. This goes both ways, kind of the literal opposite of “scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”

Basically, don’t feel bad about asking if it’s OK to touch someone. And even more importantly, don’t take it personally if they say “no.”

I’d prefer to see this become common practice, but I understand why it might be tedious to ask before you shake someone’s hand. But if you feel the need to go beyond the socially required physical contact, just give the person receiving the touch a heads up.

Kjerstine Trooien is a staff writer for The Dakota Student. She can be reached at [email protected].