Enjoy this excerpt from my newest blog published online by The Bundle Magazine about my physical touch love language:
I don’t really like cats.
This is probably due to a combination of being scratched by one of my grandmother’s kittens as a kid, and never owning one because of my dad’s allergy.
However, the more time that passes, the more I’m sure I may not be a cat person, but I have become a cat myself.
To understand this analogy, picture an affectionate cat. One that rubs up against your legs, sits on your keyboard at the most inopportune times and loves to be held.
Before you get the wrong idea, I don’t cuddle up against people’s legs, but I did cuddle up next to my church small group leader during our “Tarzan” movie night. I don’t sit on keyboards, but I did sit on my roommate’s lap while she finished her calculus homework. The last one I will concede to: I do love to be held.
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