I am sitting on my sofa, cocooned in what I have deemed the world’s softest blanket, with a bowl of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food ice cream in my lap. My mom sits next to me, her feet tucked under the blanket so we are sharing its warmth. In the background, the TV plays Survivor and we watch the castaways decide who to vote out next. They are trapped on an island, enduring rainstorms and dehydration, but I know I am safe and warm next to my mom. We ridicule players for their poor decisions, asserting that we could most definitely play better than them. When the episode is over, we talk about the new Taylor Swift song we are obsessed with, and then she tells me the drama from her work. We laugh and I tell her that she is definitely in the right. We agree about everything. I am completely open with her.
Human beings are social creatures. We crave connection more than anything. It is as necessary for our survival as food and water (Trach, Et al.). Despite many people’s claims that we are perpetually closed off, our ability to create genuine connections is in fact the very thing that makes us human (Farnam Street Media Inc.). Humans are inherently vulnerable; it is simply a matter of choosing to share our vulnerabilities with others. With the right people, however, it can be so natural that it doesn’t even feel like a choice. For me, that person is my mom.
When I was a kid, my mom used to wear the same perfume every day. It was warm, and sweet, and her. I don’t know how else to describe it, because I don’t really remember what it smelled like. But I remember that it was safe, and it was happy, and it was Mom. Sometimes, I will pass a woman on the street, and she smells exactly like my mom’s old perfume. And all of a sudden I am seven, and I am hugging my mom’s scarf (because it smells like her) while I cry in bed, waiting for her to come home. And when she does, I leap into her arms, and she doesn’t let go. I tell her why I am crying - my cat scratched me - and I remember feeling as though she took out my heart and cradled it in her arms, and kissed it until I stopped crying.
Why did my pain, both emotional and physical, disappear after I received comfort from my mom? This is a real scientific phenomenon, and it is explored in a research paper by the National Library of Medicine. According to the paper, oxytocin, often thought of as the “love hormone” as it produces feelings of comfort and pleasure, is released with hand holding and hugging, among other physical interactions (Eisenbarth). This explains the healing properties of a hug from a loved one, or the affirmation one feels when snuggling with their mom under a blanket. Genuine and vulnerable human interaction is the key to experiencing this comfort and happiness. Interpersonal connections are so necessary that “the psychological and physical health benefits of social contact are so great that they can even outweigh the harmful effects of other risk factors and boost life expectancy” (“The Importance of Connections on Our Well-Being”). In fact, prolonged isolation is accompanied by a 26% greater risk of premature death (McCall). Human beings so instinctually rely on social interaction, that we can’t help but become vulnerable with the right people. We will do almost anything to chase the oxytocin high that comes with human connection.
To me, this rush of oxytocin makes me feel at home. Because home is where I can be myself. Home is gossiping with my mom about extended family. Home is when we make up a language and speak it on the subway to trick people. Home is when she tells me stories from my childhood. Home is the inside joke that we still talk about ten years later. Home is when we paint our nails together. Home is when we used to spy on people from the house across the street and make up stories about their lives. Home is when she tells me what I was almost named, and I throw my head back in disgust. Home is when she saved a stuffed animal that I wanted to throw out, and the next day I was so grateful. Home is when she reads my mind because she knows me better than I know myself. Home is my mom. My mom is my home.
Everyone has a home. A person with whom they can be completely genuine. If they do not have one yet, they will someday. Because as humans, we have an intrinsic need to be open and genuine with others. For our physical and psychological well-being, it is essential. And though we may not be utterly open with just anyone, our need to be vulnerable will ensure that we are utterly open with someone.
About the Author:
Sonia Rosenhouse is a 16-year-old junior at Brooklyn Technical High School in New York. She has been writing personal essays for years and uses writing to understand herself and her world. Her other interests include working with children, psychology, and graphic design. She lives in Brooklyn with her parents, older brother, and two cats.
Works Cited
Eisenbarth, Hedwig. “The comfort in touch: Immediate and lasting effects of handholding on emotional pain.” NCBI, National Library of Medicine, https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7872251/. Accessed 15 January 2024.
Farnam Street Media Inc. “Is Vulnerability a Choice?” Farnam Street Media Inc.
“The Importance of Connections on Our Well-Being.” UC Berkeley Executive Education, https://executive.berkeley.edu/thought-leadership/blog/importance-connections-our-well-being. Accessed 15 January 2024.
McCall, Mariposa. “Health and Solitary Confinement: Issues and Impact.” Psychiatric Times, 16 March 2022, https://www.psychiatrictimes.com/view/health-and-solitary-confinement-issues-and-impact. Accessed 15 January 2024.
Trach, Jessica. “Chapter 1: Humans are Social and Emotional Beings.” unesco mgiep, https://mgiep.unesco.org/article/humans-are-social-and-emotional-beings. Accessed 15 January 2024.