I've changed sites. Click here to read this post at elodieonlove.com.
Once upon a time, there was a prince who would marry only a real princess. One night, a young woman came to the door during a storm, looking for shelter. The prince's mother put a pea under twenty mattresses and invited her to sleep on them. When asked the next morning how she had slept, the young woman answered, "terribly, there was a horrible rock under my mattresses and now I am black and blue." The prince married the young woman, believing only a princess could be so sensitive. The full story, by Hans Christian Anderson, is here.
This story has obvious classist, sexist, and just plain weird problems, not to mention the fact that sleeping on twenty mattresses sounds kind of dangerous. And, of course, there are blatant sexual overtones. But I didn't think of that when I was a little girl. I liked to imagine that the young woman was a scullery maid or shepherdess, and that her true value lay in her sensitivity. Yeah, I know, also deeply problematic. But I identified with this girl. Phrases such as "you can't actually feel that" and "that can't actually hurt" were common in my child and teenage years.
There are serious upsides to being so physically sensitive. I love feeling things with different textures: cloth, wood, glass, plants, cats... Maybe it has something to do with why I love sex so much and orgasm so readily.
This sensitivity means I like sex toys that others might find "too small", or "too weak". 1 inch diameter? Great! Low, soft, rumbling vibrations? Excellent! What's the opposite of a "size queen"? Maybe a princess.