I love you. Stop touching me.

Why mothers in America are touched out

During the intense early years of having and raising children, our bodies can feel like they belong to everyone but ourselves. First, we undergo the science experiment of trying to get pregnant or stay pregnant. Then, there’s the stress and trauma of labor and delivery. And once our babies are born, our bodies become a source of survival, providing constant sustenance and solace. As our children get older, they’re always in our arms, our laps, our beds.

And all the while, our bodies are continue to be seen as a source of pleasure for our partners — a dynamic complicated by a culture in which sexual exploitation and violence against women are normalized throughout our lives, deepening our dissociation from our bodies after having children.

In addition to those stressors, studies show mothers only get about 17 minutes of "alone time" every day and feel they need to “hide” from their children at least four times a week to carve out space for themselves. Probably because it’s mothers who still bear the burden of providing the majority of care and affection to both their children and male partners.

So it is normal – but not yet normalized – for women to feel both in love with and overwhelmed and overstimulated by the demands of parenting (explained via interpretive dance below by Caitlin Murray of @ bigtimeadulting).

This phenomenon, known as being touched out, doesn’t mean a mother is withholding touch from her children — it means being touched by children or partners or anyone in your life can begin to incite feelings of panic, repulsion or resentment, according to Kelsey Mizell, a licensed professional counselor specializing in perinatal and maternal mental health. Touch – a sensation that is usually considered pleasurable – becomes unbearable.

A new book out today by

Amanda Montei

, “Touched Out: Motherhood, Misogyny, Consent and Control” – part memoir, part cultural criticism – argues that this response is not inevitable: “This is a trick … of patriarchal power, which has convinced many Americans that women parenting all alone without support or community is just the way things must be, and that a loss of ownership over one’s body is a biological inevitability rather than a political, economic and social problem.”

That’s because not only do women’s bodies not belong to themselves, but in some states, women’s bodies actually belong to the government. Some states are passing laws that empower rapists. Pro-gun laws are enabling maternal murders. Anti-abortion laws are removing our right to bodily autonomy. And policies made by legislatures, insurance companies and corporations are forcing mothers to return too quickly to the workforce fulltime.

In other words, women who are touched out may be feeling a culmination of all the societal demands and restrictions, not just the direct physical demands of their children. Mary Kay Fleming, Ph.D. says, “a physical roadblock is the easiest to see and address, therefore it becomes the thing we feel and struggle against.”

On social media, the hashtag #TouchedOut has started an online conversation about how women need and want to talk about their experiences, which have privately caused them to feel guilt and shame. I posted about women being touched out on Instagram, and received nearly 200 responses, including:

“My 5-year-old is so cuddly and physical touch has always been important to me … but FUCK I get so overstimulated, touched out and just want to be left alone at the end of the day.”

“I am sooo touched out. I have four kids and between them, my husband, and our cat, I get overwhelmed and call space often. And it’s something my husband never feels and is kind of puzzled by.”

“It’s strange how motherhood can feel so lonely and yet you are never alone.”

“Over-touched has been the hardest part of early motherhood… and also the best? It’s super confusing.”

“My partner does not understand how I need to not be touched now. I’m the mother of 3-year-old twins. When they’re asleep, I need not one person to touch me.”

Ultimately, being touched out is a symptom of parenting in an unsustainable environment. As Montei puts it, “…the psychic and physical overwhelms mothers experience at home in America are evidence of broader issues with the conditions in which we parent and illustrate how our daily lives both echo and resist a culture of male control … The act of clarifying a limit around touch and access to one’s body can be a form of domestic resistance for women.”

Book out today by Amanda Monte

Some ways to cope with being touched out include:

1. Taking a break

"Taking a break can be the absolute best treatment in certain situations," says Dr. Fleming. "Parents need time to themselves and time away to refresh, refocus, and replenish that deep reservoir needed to nurture."

2. Communicating

"The adults need to communicate with one another about their needs and expectations, for one another and for their children, and get on the same page. That's the real key to happiness," explains Dr. Fleming. "Two parents in the same home are part of a collective endeavor—the most important one of their lives—they are building something special together. If they don't support each other, the kids will pay the price."

3. Directing the touching

"Doing something that is focused solely on taking care of yourself, and including touch as a main component, is a great way to remind yourself and your body that being close and connected to others can be fulfilling and positive," says Carolyn Wagner, a Chicago-area therapist at the Wilmette Counseling Center specializing in maternal mental health.

4. Ditching unrealistic expectations

"If we expect ourselves to give 100% all the time—with anything less perceived as failure—we're doomed before we begin. No one can meet those expectations,” says Dr. Fleming.

Obviously, these temporary fixes don’t begin to address what’s ailing our society at a larger level. And while Montei says motherhood radicalized her, her book doesn’t offer pat solutions to the touched out syndrome adversely impacting so many women and families: “[In the book] I talk about some of the things that we obviously need so that parenting doesn’t feel so exploitative — basic income, child care, health care, social services, work-reentry programs – but it was really important to me to resist the trend to turn memoir into self-help.”

Regardless, the call to engage in domestic resistance and consider concepts like consent and community parenting come at an important time as women reenter the workforce post-COVID and prepare for the 2024 elections. Radicalized mothers need to demand that corporate leaders, policy makers and political candidates bring us their radical ideas about how to make motherhood less fraught in America.

Perhaps that’s why Montei’s book ends by asking us to consider the question: “What kind of belonging might we all experience if we thought more expansively about child-rearing as a practice to be done outside the home, in the community, by many bodies together rather than just one?”