Would you caress me, please?

Skin-to-skin contact carries an ancestral message. It is a bridge that unites consciousness and emotions, making us feel we are not alone.

The Call of the Skin

We live touching screens but forget to touch skin, something we sometimes long for. The body says it before the words do: Pamper me… with a caress. It is an ancient whisper. Because before language existed, we spoke with our hands. And while we were still learning to see or hear clearly, touch was already weaving us into the world. The most recent findings in neuroscience, primatology, and developmental psychology tell us we must recover something essential, the healing power of caresses. Not only as an act of tenderness, but as a form of sensory and emotional intelligence. As medicine… and as a way of loving.

The First Caress Is a Promise: “You are safe!”

Affective touch is crucial in child development, especially in regulating emotional, cognitive, and physiological processes. No one remembers their birth. But the body does, especially the skin. When a baby enters the world, most of its senses are still dormant. Vision is blurry, hearing barely registers certain frequencies, and its perception of space is chaotic. But the skin —that extended organ that both separates and connects us— is already awake. Through it, the newborn finds the first sense of safety: a mother’s caress, the father’s hand on their back, the warmth of the chest that holds them.

Recent research in neonatology has rediscovered what many cultures intuited centuries ago. A 2024 Children journal study showed that affective touch activates specific nerve fibers (C tactile fibers) that not only register physical contact but also trigger deep emotional responses, shaping the baby’s nervous system. These slow, gentle, intentional caresses help regulate heart rate, stabilize temperature, and, most importantly, create a secure emotional bond. The signals from these fibers travel to the limbic system, the brain’s emotional center.

Growing evidence suggests that touch has another dimension (McGlone et al., 2014). A February 2025 ScienceDirect study showed that even a brief, three-minute caress session between mother and child produced immediate physiological co-regulation, almost as if their bodies remembered they belonged to each other. The baby still doesn’t know who they are, but when they are caressed, they begin to sense that the world can be trusted. The body learns that the outside can be safe, warm, and loving. And then… they smile. Every mother knows it, and that imprint lasts forever.

Touch is the baby’s first map of the world. From the womb, the fetus already responds to contact, but after birth, touch becomes the only reliable sensory bridge to their environment. Classic studies by Klaus and Kennell (1976) showed that skin-to-skin contact between mother and child in the first hours after birth fosters bonding, stabilizes the baby’s heartbeat, regulates temperature, and promotes attachment.

Modern neuroscience has confirmed what our grandmothers knew intuitively: a caress can change a day, a mood, even a life. Caresses shape the brain, regulate stress hormones, strengthen bonds, calm the body, and, above all, provide existential security. To caress —and to be caressed— is one of the deepest expressions of our humanity. And so, sometimes without knowing how to say it, the body speaks for us and whispers… A caress, please.

Testimony –Marila 29, first-time mother: “When my premature daughter was born, the doctors told me that skin-to-skin contact could help her survive. I placed her on my chest for hours. I didn’t know a caress could be so powerful. I felt as if we were breathing with the same heart. Today, when I gently caress her to sleep, I know I’m not only soothing her… I’m healing myself too."

The Pain of Absent Touch

In the second half of the 20th century, psychologist Harry Harlow conducted an unforgettable experiment with rhesus monkeys. He offered them two artificial “mothers”, one made of wire with food, and another made of soft cloth with no food. The babies chose the cloth mother, because the softness of contact mattered more than the nourishment (Harlow, 1958).

Decades later, studies with chimpanzees and bonobos confirmed it: caresses are not just signs of affection but behaviors that build social cohesion, repair emotional wounds, and create trust. A 2024 PLOS One study showed that grooming between chimpanzees is contagious (Dunbar, 2010). When a primate sees others caressing each other, they are more likely to do the same, as a kind of empathetic echo: “I need that too.”

In 2025, primatologists in Uganda observed wild chimpanzees taking turns grooming, not just as a functional act, but as a social ritual shaped by hierarchy, age, and bonds, almost like a conversation without words.

And we humans, how much of this tactile wisdom have we forgotten? How many cases of depression, anxiety, and emotional disconnection are born from skin that has not been touched with love? Skin that has not been caressed.

In humans, the absence of affectionate touch during childhood is linked to developmental disorders, depression, cognitive impairment, and difficulties in forming healthy emotional bonds (Field, 2010). Physical contact is so essential that its absence is considered a form of sensory deprivation, with devastating effects on the nervous system.

Testimony –Clara 33, on her marriage: "After months without touching, one night my husband caressed my back without saying a word. It was a silent, trembling, but honest caress. We didn’t solve all our problems, but that night we realized there were still threads between us. The skin remembered what the mind had forgotten."

The Case of Leo: “Learning to Touch Again”

A scene from a therapy session between a young professional and his psychologist about caresses in his relationship.

Psychologist: You said last time that you felt something was breaking between you and your wife. How’s that going?

Leo: (Exhales) I don’t know… We’re still together, we sleep in the same bed, we share things… but it’s like we’re far apart. Like each of us is in our own world. Sometimes we talk, sometimes we argue, but we rarely feel close.

Psychologist: And when you think about “feeling close,” what does that mean to you? What makes it real?

Leo: (Pauses) I guess… when I look at her and know she’s there for me, or when she smiles at me without me asking. But that doesn’t happen anymore. And when we have sex… there’s some contact, some intensity… but as soon as it’s over, we each go back to our own corner… and I don’t know if that counts as closeness.

Psychologist: Do you caress each other?

Leo: You mean…?

Psychologist: Not during sex. I mean the other caresses, a hand on the back when you pass by, holding hands during a movie, touching her face when you wake up, a hug without sexual intent.

Leo: (Shrugs) No… not really. Unless it’s during sex. And sometimes not even then.

Psychologist: Leo… do you realize what that means?

Leo: That we don’t touch?

Psychologist: That you’ve stopped speaking the deepest language a couple can share. Caresses aren’t just physical gestures, they’re a way of saying: “I see you. I recognize you. I still choose you.” When a couple stops caressing outside of sex, they slowly stop inhabiting their emotional bond. It becomes more of a contract than an encounter.

Leo: And just with caresses, things change?

Psychologist: Not everything. But it’s a start. Loving, non-sexual caresses calm the nervous system, reduce stress, release oxytocin —the bonding hormone— and remind the body it’s not alone. Sometimes, when the body remembers the loved one, the mind begins to follow.

Leo: (Long pause) I never thought about it that way. I believed that solving things through talking was enough. But now… we barely talk. And of course… we don’t touch either. Maybe… we should start there.

Psychologist: Don’t think of it as a strategy, but as an act of presence. Could you, at least once this week, go to her and caress her face, her back, or simply take her hand without expecting anything else? Just to say, “I’m here. We’re still two.”

Leo: (Nods) Yes. I think I can do that. And… I realize I need that too.

Psychologist: We all do, Leo. Even the strongest, the most rational, the busiest. Sometimes, one caress is worth more than a thousand postponed conversations.

Testimony –Teo 9, child with autism: "I don’t like tight hugs. But my grandma caresses my hand with her fingers very slowly, like she’s drawing. I like that. It calms me. It makes me feel like I’m a plant and she waters me with her hands."

Caresses That Switch Off Stress and Restore Life

We live in a hypercognitive society, flooded with visual, verbal, and digital stimuli. Yet the body remains pure biology. Chronic stress raises levels of adrenocorticoids like cortisol, which alter immune, cardiovascular, and neurological function (Sapolsky, 2004). This is where touch reappears as medicine.

Caresses have a direct effect on lowering stress levels. Research from the University of North Carolina (Grewen et al., 2003) shows that affectionate contact between couples —like hugs or back caresses— reduces blood pressure and cortisol levels.

A 2024 meta-analysis reviewing more than 200 studies concluded that caresses, hugs, and massages significantly reduce pain, anxiety, and depression. And it’s not just any physical contact. It’s human touch —delivered with intention, warmth, and attentiveness— that produces such a powerful effect.

Swedish neuroscientist Kerstin Uvnäs-Moberg has explained how caresses trigger the release of oxytocin —the “love hormone”— which in turn calms the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis, reducing excess cortisol and promoting the body’s regeneration (Uvnäs-Moberg et al., 2015). That’s why when someone caresses our back, feet, or hands, not only do we feel pleasure, but deep physiological healing mechanisms are activated (Field, 2014). The body literally begins to heal.

Testimony –Julián 22, engineering student: "I spend the day touching my phone screen, my laptop, my console… Sometimes I realize I can be with friends for hours without ever touching, no hug, no handshake. When I’m with my girlfriend, I sometimes prefer sending her an emoji rather than telling her what I feel in person. And even though we have sex, there are almost no caresses. It’s hard for me… I feel like I don’t know how to do that. As if I’m missing a language I never learned."

Please: Hug Me… and Everything Will Be All Right

In this age of digital distance and fleeting bonds, caressing another human being can be a revolutionary act. And we’re not just talking about romantic love, we mean the many forms of human affection: hugs between siblings, the intertwined hands of friends, a silent gesture from a grandchild to a hospitalized grandmother, or any touch between two people expressing gratitude or sharing a moment of love, friendship, or even collegiality.

Psychology has shown that couples who maintain regular physical contact —caresses, hugs, massages— develop greater emotional resilience, better communication, and more stable bonds (Debrot et al., 2013).

The body does not lie. When we caress, we listen without speaking. When we are caressed, we feel seen, recognized, and loved. Anthropologist Ashley Montagu once said that human beings need to be caressed more than they need to be instructed, and that caresses not only teach, but they also confirm our existence.

This is not about sexuality, but tenderness, care, attention, and presence. In an increasingly digital world, human caresses are an antidote to loneliness (Bauman, 2003). Even among friends and family, hugs build bonds that release endorphins, increase trust, and strengthen emotional resilience. There is something profoundly human about taking the hand of someone in pain, it is an act that says “I am here” even without words.

Testimony –Amina 16, refugee student: "In my culture, showing affection openly isn’t common. But when we arrived in this country and I felt lost, a teacher touched my shoulder after I broke down crying. It was a light, respectful caress… but it held me up. That day I understood that the body can also say, ‘I see you, you’re safe here.’"

The Neurophysiological Basis of “Social Touch”

From the peripheral nervous system, recent research (March 2025, arXiv) identified that certain Aβ mechanoreceptor afferents, particularly SA II and “fast hair follicle afferents” (HFA), can discriminate different types of human caresses in functionally relevant time frames of 3 or 4 seconds, revealing a sophisticated sensory precision in social perception. An exploratory study using detailed tactile tracking showed that with small variations in speed, pressure, and contact area, we can transmit distinct emotional intentions through touch, differences that are enough for the receiver to recognize and feel emotionally.

Testimony –Mariana 20, refugee student: "In my culture, showing affection openly isn’t common. But when we arrived in this country and I felt lost, a teacher touched my shoulder after I broke down crying. It was a light, respectful caress… but it held me up. That day I understood that the body can also say, ‘I see you, you’re safe here.’"

The Revolution of Care Begins with the Skin

We are rediscovering a truth we had delegated to the therapeutic or medical sphere: human contact is an essential form of care. And it is urgent to deepen it. In hospitals, care homes, stressed families, and cooling relationships, caresses can be the first step toward reconnection.

A conscious caress can open a bridge where words no longer exist. It can repair a bond, stop a panic attack, or ease grief. Because in the end, we are not only consciousness or body, but we are also skin that remembers, longs, and needs. And sometimes, what heals most is not an answer but a presence. A hand. A caress.

To Love Is to Touch… and Be Touched

We must remember that the skin is the body’s largest organ and sense. The world demands performance, speed, and results. But consciousness —and the body— keep asking for what they have for tens of thousands of years: the presence of tenderness and contact.

A caress doesn’t change the world, but it can transform a moment. And sometimes, a moment is enough to turn everything around. So when someone hugs you, don’t let go too quickly. When you feel the tension in your back, ask for what you don’t always know how to: “Please… caress me.”

Testimony –Andrés 47, nurse: "I work in palliative care. Many times, there’s not much left to say or do. So I take the patient’s hand and caress it slowly, and something changes. The pulse relaxes, the eyes close, the body yields. In those moments, I feel that a caress is more powerful than any medicine or treatment."

Healing Through Skin: A Pending Revolution

We are beginning to understand that the body is not just a vessel for consciousness. It is an intelligent system of emotional communication. Caresses are not accessory or ornamental; they are therapeutic tools, means of deep connection, and mechanisms of psycho-affective regulation.

In clinical settings, “touch therapy” is gaining ground. In palliative care, simply massaging a patient’s hands can reduce pain and anxiety. In neonatology, “kangaroo care” —holding the baby against the bare chest of the mother or father— has saved premature lives and strengthened the primary bond. It is not enough to say “I love you.” The body needs proof. It needs touch. And often, it only takes one whispered word to the person we love: “Caress me.”

Testimony –Luis 74, widower: "After my wife died, I got used to the silence. What hurt most wasn’t the solitude, but not feeling her hand over mine, or that caress on the back of my neck she gave me every night. Over time, I realized touch was the language of our love. Today, I hug my grandchildren more. It’s my way of still speaking to her, through other bodies."

Please: Give Me Your Hand

In the West, shaking hands is so routine we rarely think about it as a culturally coded caress. It is brief, controlled, ritualized, but still skin-to-skin contact, carrying all the affective and communicative weight that implies. Pressure, temperature, humidity, even duration send signals our brain registers in milliseconds: safety, closeness, tension, even dominance.

A handshake signals trust, friendship, and seals agreements. In other traditions, greetings follow specific cultural codes. for example, in many Muslim contexts, the handshake is soft, sometimes followed by the right hand placed over the heart as a gesture of respect and spiritual connection.

The “Fist Bump”

During the COVID-19 pandemic, bans on handshakes and hugs dealt a blow to this basic form of communication. Yet the human instinct to maintain some kind of contact invented substitutes, like the “fist bump.” It is shorter, with less contact area, but retains the symbolism of recognition and closeness.

This gesture, born of the need to avoid viral transmission, revealed something essential: even in physical distancing, we search for ways to touch. The fist bump lacks the warmth of a handshake or the intimacy of a hug, but it reminded us that contact, however minimal, is still a fundamental part of our social and emotional nature.

To Caress Is to Remember Our Humanity

In a world that rewards speed, efficiency, and hyperproductivity, pausing to caress has become almost innovative. We live fast, calculating, producing, accumulating… but forget something essential: we are skin, emotion, and the need for contact.

Amid the noise, multitasking, and digital overload, a humble, sincere, loving caress can be an act of resistance and return. To caress is not just to touch, it is to place presence at your fingertips. To tell another, without words: “I see you, I feel you, and you matter to me.”

We also need to learn to caress ourselves, to touch without judgment, forgive with tenderness, reconcile with our own bodies. Caresses are not just physical gestures. They are existential messages, the simplest yet strongest way to remind someone (or ourselves) that we are valuable, worthy of love, not alone.

If someday you lack the words, if the world feels blurred, if you feel you are forgetting yourself pause. Find someone. Find your own body. Whisper, with a trembling voice or with the strength of awakening: “Please… caress me.” Do it as a reminder you are alive. Do it as the first step to healing. Because sometimes, a caress does not just touch the skin. It touches the part of us that had forgotten what it’s like to feel loved…

If you’d like to talk more about this, consult us, or share your experience, you can write to psicologosgessen@hotmail.com... Until our next piece… may the Divine Providence of the Universe accompany us all.

María Mercedes Gessen and Vladimir Gessen, psicólogos.

(Authors of “Who or What Is the Universe?”, Mastery of Happiness,” and “The Things and Changes Life Brings”)

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