Hey I think we all need to spend a little therapy time in this thread.... This is like a nature vs. nurture debate. Are those that love tickling born that way or do they develop through life experiences? Myself, I believe it's a little of both, that liking being tickled or liking to tickle (like between a parent and child) is something written into the programming/DNA/soul of every.human being at birth, but that we can become reprogrammed through events that are positive or negative creating lee, ler, both, those that hate tickling, those that don't care, fetishes, etc. Therefore, a person could be converted to like/dislike tickling anytime in life. I had a negative event (which I don't really wish to discuss but I'm trying to make a point) when I was barely 2 that could have developed into my needing to let go and be the victim or to victimize someone else, in a way acting out the experience, (which is how children learn to deal with fear problems, they act out things they are scared of most in a controlled setting through play). From early childhood anything involving tickling feet was a complete fascination for me. I watched countless hours of TV trying to see the few brief clips that were out there. Yes I do remember the Raggedy Ann and Andy movie the green thing with the leaves was called the Gadzooks or something like that. The word tickle was hard for me to say and would give me lump in my throat and butterflies in my stomache. There was no tickling at my house, my Mother didn't approve of such nonsense and even broke-up any tickling that started. So I felt like a COMPLETE freak all my life and tried my best to bury it but unfortunately it's a fetish, a turn-on, and until recently when I came to accept it I was miserable. Now that I've told my husband and he's accepted it quite eagerly, I feel better than I ever have.
I also want to say that I view getting tickled like a trip on a roller coaster. The butterflies and anticipation of waiting for it to begin, getting strapped in tight and releasing control to something scary but safe. Screaming and getting thrown about until at last the ride comes to a stop, I try to stand but my legs are like cooked spaghetti, my stomache aches my head feels dizzy but the smile from ear to ear and the words, "let's go again" are always there at the end.
