The first time I heard about Cuddle Party was while I was at work, taking a break from writing tech support articles. I was 23 years old, and had been married for just over 3 years--the families and religious culture my wife and I grew up in emphasized marrying young and staying together in traditional monogamous bliss at almost any cost.
So when I saw a Meetup event for the 2nd-ever Cuddle Party in the state where I live, I had a rush of reactions to work through. The first and strongest was that I wanted to go. The freedom of being affectionate with others in a social setting without the expectation of exclusivity was exciting to me. It sounded like fun, and physical touch hadn’t been part of my casual social life since high school--before my relationship with my wife had begun.
But my second reaction was one I had been taught from a young age: This kind of thing isn’t right. I was married, and happily so. Wouldn’t this be cheating?
I struggled with these conflicted feelings for a few days. I was afraid to talk about them with my wife, but I have never been good at hiding the fact that something is bothering me. So eventually, I approached the subject with a careful emotional distance. “People out there are hosting parties where everyone cuddles with each other. Isn’t that bizarre? I would never go to one of those. Unless…?”
As it turned out, she wasn’t immediately put off by the idea, and we agreed to try it together. I was elated, but nervous. What would everyone think of me? Would I find anyone there I wanted to connect with? Would it be safe?
The day finally came. We were met at the door by the host, an older woman with a warm smile and a calming energy. She invited us in, showed us where the snacks and the bathroom were, and told us to make ourselves at home. A few other attendees were already there, and more arrived soon after us. My wife and I found seats in the living room and made nervous conversation while we waited for the event to officially begin.
The first part of the event was an educational workshop. This was an official Cuddle Party, which meant the host had been trained by the Cuddle Party organization and that the event would follow its 11 rules. Each rule was explained in detail, with many followed by discussion and icebreaker exercises.
The core of the Cuddle Party rules are about consent--asking for what you want, listening for a yes or no, and respecting the answer you get. The power of these simple rules was something I didn’t understand before I saw them working.
For example, one of the exercises we did was pairing up with a partner and taking turns asking for something, then saying no to the request or offer. Even if it was something you wanted to agree to, the point of the exercise was to practice saying and hearing “no.” Sometimes it felt embarrassing to ask for something. Sometimes it was difficult to risk hurting the other person’s feelings by saying no. And sometimes it hurt a little to be rejected. But everyone got through the exercise in one piece. And that was the point--no matter what happened for the rest of the evening, we had all been rejected at least once and continued on with our evening.
Too often in the real world, we learn that we need to be subtle or misleading in order to succeed at relationships or connections. We don’t tell someone how we really feel. We want one thing, but ask for something else. We accept offers we aren’t actually comfortable with. We don’t stop someone when they do something we don’t like. These things create an environment where we don’t feel safe to speak our minds, one way or another. It keeps us from making truthful connections because we’re afraid of hurting someone else or being hurt ourselves. But the Cuddle Party rules were an outline for a new way of doing things.
By the end of the workshop, I was eager to try out the new skills I had just learned. And I didn’t have to wait long--a woman around my age approached me and asked if she could give me a foot rub. I was surprised, and relieved that this time I could say yes. I found it easy to continue talking with her now that we were already doing something together, and it wasn’t long before we were talking about our favorite Zelda games and animated movies. Occasionally, one of us would ask for a different activity, such as playing with the other’s hair or resting our head in the other’s lap. I don’t recall whether or not each of our suggestions were accepted, but I do remember feeling comfortable, happy, and fulfilled.
By the end of the evening, my wife and I were both hooked. Over the next few months, we came back for more Cuddle Parties and always left with new memories--some sad or confusing, but most happy and exciting, and all of them opportunities for growth and change. The woman I connected with at my first party even became one of our closest friends--we still attend events and go on vacations together (when we’re not in the middle of a pandemic, that is).
If you’d like to read the Cuddle Party rules for yourself, visit their website at http://www.cuddleparty.com/rules/. And if you want to find a Cuddle Party to attend yourself, meet one-on-one with a professional cuddler, or learn new ways to form meaningful connections in your life, check out the rest of the resources here on Nurtured Nerds. We’re here to guide you on your way to a more connected life, and we hope to hear from you soon.
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