I didn’t want anyone to touch me after 8 p.m.

Dear Delyara, That sounds harsher written down than it felt. It wasn’t that I was angry. I just felt physically finished with being entered by anything else. Noise, requests, movement, decisions, somebody leaning on me while talking, somebody asking a question from the doorway, somebody needing one more thing before bed. Even affection can feel like contact when the whole nervous system is already at capacity. My husband came to put his hand on my shoulder while I was packing lunchboxes, and I flinched before I could stop myself. He looked hurt for a second, and I hated that. I immediately said, “Sorry, I’m just tired.” Which was true. But not complete. The more complete truth is that there are evenings where the body wants to close its gates, not because love is absent, but because everything has already been let in all day long.