When You're the Adult Child Who Still Gets Grabbed

Robin Archer·

There is a version of this you probably thought would resolve on its own. You'd grow up. You'd become clearly an adult. The relative who grabbed your face between their hands when you were seven would perceive that you were now thirty-four, and would adjust accordingly.

For some people, it does resolve. The physical patterns change as the relationship matures, as everyone grows older, as the family accumulates enough shared history that a new set of norms settles in. For other people, it doesn't. The aunt who pinched your cheek at seven pinches your cheek at thirty-four, and the family treats it as a fixed feature, something that has always been true and will continue to be.

Why the patterns persist

The short answer is that no one told them to stop. The family physical patterns that formed when you were a child persist because they were established when you were a child, and they operate on the logic of that earlier relationship: you were small, they were adults, their access to your body was part of the care relationship.

You grew up. The pattern didn't update.

The other reason is that the stakes feel lower now. You're an adult. You're not a child being overridden. The argument for saying something has less urgency, which means it gets deferred, which means the next gathering arrives and the same thing happens.

The argument for saying something anyway

The discomfort is real even when you're an adult. That hasn't changed. The fact that you can tolerate it better than a child could is not an argument for tolerating it indefinitely. It's an argument for saying something in a way that's available to you now because you're an adult.

A woman I know dealt with a great-uncle who always took her face in his hands when he greeted her. She'd hated it since childhood. At thirty-one, at a family dinner, she moved her face away and said, "I'm not really a face-grabber." She said it lightly. He laughed, a little embarrassed. He didn't do it again that night. She's not sure if it will hold, but it's the first time she said something.

The thing about doing it when you're an adult is that the social tools are more available to you. You can move first. You can name it without it becoming a major family incident. You can absorb whatever the reaction is without needing someone else to protect you.

What to say

The approach is the same one that works in any context: specific, light, without extensive explanation. "I'm not really a hugger anymore" is enough. "Don't grab my face" is more direct and also enough. "Can you not do that" is enough.

What you're not doing is apologizing for having changed, or explaining that you were never okay with it, or asking for a retrial of thirty years of family pattern. That conversation is available if you want it, but it's not required. The thing you need to stop is the grabbing. The grabbing is what you're addressing.

After you say it

There's a specific feeling that comes after saying something to a family member who has been doing this for years. Somewhere between relief and guilt, with some residual anxiety about how the relationship will be going forward.

The guilt is usually about the relationship, about not wanting to hurt someone who cares about you. It's worth keeping separate from whether you were right to say something. You can have done the right thing and still feel bad that it was necessary. Those are different feelings.

The relief tends to last longer.