Foreword:
I haven't written in ages - I've been on a writer's block since 2011... But AI unfroze me!
This is a blog-styled story that I spun-off from another AI-generated project of mine. That project was a series of interviews with the creator of TickleFit - a quirky wellness concept - and its "regular" participants. They were OK-ish. But then, I fed those interviews back to ChatGPT and had it look at the concept from the perspective of quite a mismatched participant.
I sank in it. And fell in love with nostalgic characters - some my own, through which I interacted with the story, some that GPT created itself. If I don't publish this now - I will keep polishing it forever. So I am publishing as is to stop myself.
I hope it's likeable. When reading, please ignore references to "the interviews". They are not quite publishable yet - but you'll get the idea of what they're about. And don't overthink the pronounciation of the names - the original interviews were in another language and I stuck with their original versions.
But here I am—well, here I was, before the latest TickleFit session—trapped in a corporate job, fighting my way through Excel sheets like a sleep-deprived zombie, missing my old punk days when I was free to scream at the system, not help it thrive. And yet, what do I find myself doing? Going barefoot, strapped to a table while some really enthusiastic woman (let’s call her "Ania") pretends my stifled giggles are some deep, emotional breakthrough.
I can’t lie, my initial thoughts were classic: Are you kidding me? I could already picture my goth self—pale, dark-haired, and wearing too many studded bracelets—scoffing at the idea of any sort of wellness trend. I was punk. The kind of punk that rolled my eyes at mainstream anything. The whole world could go on a “journey of self-discovery” through yoga, meditation, or whatever the next trending thing was, but I was the one who actually didn't care about anything and definitely didn’t need to find my soul through foot massages. Not my thing, thank you.
But here’s the catch: as it turns out, being stuck in a corporate job and worrying about bills and... well, bills, takes a toll on you. I don't know when it happened, but somewhere between dodging my boss’s emails and pretending I cared about "team bonding," I lost touch with that girl who used to dive into every chaotic moment with reckless abandon. Yeah, I'm still rocking the punky aesthetic—obviously, goth/punk will never die. It’s just… buried under a pile of corporate suits and mid-afternoon coffee runs.
Anyway, back to TickleFit. It’s exactly as weird as it sounds. I was supposed to be too cool for it, right? The kind of girl who'd roll her eyes at everyone else. But I think I was just… jealous. Maybe I was a little curious about how this whole laughing-for-freedom thing worked. Could tickling really take you to some profound self-revelation? Or would I just get a good laugh and another blog post to write about how much of a joke it all was?
So, I did it. I went.
First Impressions?
If you’ve never been strapped to a table, surrounded by women in various stages of barely-controlled excitement (and some with seriously unamused faces), you might not understand the vibe. The air is filled with that faint smell of essential oils, nervous laughter, and possibly some panic. You know, the kind of panic you get when you're about to lose control and, for once in your life, not care if you have your guard up.
They strap you in (which, let's face it, feels like some dystopian movie), and then, of course, the tickling begins. And I’m talking full-on, everywhere tickling. The worst part? It’s not even that it tickles so much—it’s that it works.
Your body involuntarily spasms in a fit of laughter. And for a moment, you just feel... free. What is this sorcery? I thought I hated it, but there I was, laughing harder than I had in ages—like the grumpy, I’m-too-cool-for-this goth who pretended everything was absurd, but secretly was a bit… miserable.
Rebellion, But Make It Self-Care
I’ll be honest, I’m still not convinced that tickling is some spiritual awakening (seriously, what’s with the whole “your feet are talking to us” bit? No, my feet aren’t speaking in some ancient language of wisdom; they’re just... getting tickled). But there's something about it that unsettles the constant need to be in control. And control is something I’ve always struggled with, given my whole punks don't follow rules persona.
When you’re strapped down (in a safe, totally consensual way, of course), you literally can’t control your reactions. And here’s the kicker: it’s incredibly hard to hate something that makes you laugh uncontrollably, even if it goes against every cynical part of you that prides itself on being above all this "wellness" nonsense. The old me would’ve called it weakness. The new me? I’m not so sure anymore.
TickleFit teaches you something strange: it’s okay to let go. No one’s judging you. In fact, they want you to laugh harder, scream louder, and make the most ridiculous face you've ever made in your life—because this is safe space wellness, not some Instagram influencer's journey to "enlightenment." It’s messy, it’s laughable, and maybe that’s just what I need in my life.
How It Affects Me Now
For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been struggling with this tug-of-war between my punk roots and my new adult life—filled with meetings, coffee breaks, and trying to hold it together in front of my colleagues. But the more I go to these sessions, the more I realize something important: I can still be rebellious. I can still be my punk self.
It doesn’t need to be about loud music, rebellious clothes, or flipping tables (though, don’t get me wrong, I still plan on doing that at least once in my life). It’s about carving out a space where I don’t have to be anything. I don’t have to be in control of everything, I don’t have to be tough all the time. I can just be... here. Laughing. Experiencing something for the first time. And, who knows? Maybe that’s the biggest act of rebellion of all.
As for my old self—the goth-punk chick who could’ve mocked anything and everything that wasn’t the "revolution"—well, she’s still in there. But maybe—just maybe—she's also laughing her ass off. Maybe she’s the sanest one in the room now. After all, who else but the punk girl who’s seen it all could appreciate just how wild and freeing it is to laugh yourself stupid without worrying about the world or what others think?
I may have gotten a bit sentimental in this post, but let's face it: who better to see through the corporate bullshit than the girl who spent her youth flipping it off? Who better to get tickled into submission and emerge from it feeling like a rebellious queen than me? Yeah, I’m probably the coolest of all the women you knew. Keep telling yourselves that, though.
And for the record, yes—my feet may have "spoken," but they’re still just as punk as I am.
User Comments:
Good_ole_days: Whaaat? A goth/punk. Barefooted. Held against her will. And it’s not in some wicked underground theater display. You’re about to crush all my youth crushes. You just… decompose them. I hope you’re happy with that!
Mean_girl: I still have chills from reading this. And I will read over and over again. I imagine you rise from this table as a goddess! Sorry for ever bullying the likes of you…
Desdemona: To me it makes perfect sense… you’re at home at a dungeon. Just wondering why it feels so beige. But you will paint it black, won’t you?
Maja’s Responses:
Good_ole_days: Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I wasn’t really crushed—just temporarily unshackled from the chains of corporate monotony. But you know what? If this ruins your youth crushes, then mission accomplished.
Mean_girl: Look at that! A confession from one of my high school tormentors. I guess we’re all just walking around, waiting for our redemption arc, huh?
Desdemona: Ouch, “beige”?! Did you just call TickleFit a dungeon? I’m not sure if that’s an insult or some weird gothic poetry. But don’t worry, I’ll definitely paint it black—or at least deep purple—before it’s all said and done.
#2: "First Session: Strapped In and Loving It (But Not Admitting)"
Okay, let's be honest. I was ready to bail the moment I stepped into that space. The "TickleFit" sign on the door felt like the punchline to a joke I hadn't been let in on yet. Who even came up with this nonsense? "Tickling for fitness?" Yeah, sure. How much could I possibly really learn by letting some strangers tickle me senseless while I'm strapped to a table? It's not like I’m going to suddenly break free from the corporate grind and become some enlightened yoga goddess, right?
Wrong. (Sort of.)
They call it "TickleFit" for a reason. And that reason is simple: it’s... way more than tickling. Yeah, there’s tickling. But there’s also this moment, this strange surrender where you're not just laughing your face off, but also letting go of whatever control you thought you had. And it’s not just the physical restraint that throws you off—it’s the emotional part, too. You’re supposed to be vulnerable, let your body react however it wants to, without worrying about looking cool. And let me tell you, looking cool is about the last thing on my mind when I’m in a puddle of giggles, fighting to stay on the table.
Step One: Say Goodbye to Your Dignity (And Your Socks)
The first thing they do is ask you to take off your shoes and socks. No big deal, right? Wrong. You feel exposed—barefoot, like, what even is the symbolism there? But it’s all part of the process. And then they strap you down, and that’s where the weirdness really begins. You're immobile, completely at the mercy of their hands, and for a minute, you think, This is ridiculous. I’m out of here.
And then it starts.
The first touch. A few seconds of hesitation. I brace myself for the tickle attack, ready to be the punk that doesn’t laugh.
But guess what? I do.
It’s uncontrollable, and it’s actually good. It’s good in that way you secretly like when something you’re supposed to hate turns out to be fun. Like getting your hair done at a salon when you usually refuse to be pampered.
So here I am, strapped in, laughing like an idiot, secretly loving it. I could hate it, but something about it is just too... freeing. Yeah, it’s weird. But weird might be exactly what I need right now.
But don’t worry. I’m still me. I’m not buying into some “I found my true self” nonsense. I’m just here for the experience.
And maybe I’ll be back. Maybe not.
Let’s see how next week goes.
User Comments:
Margo: Fun fact: I read the interview with that TickleFit guru a few weeks ago. Thrilled by the concept, totally hated the way she talked about it. She should give you a lifetime pass to that club—you’re so much better an ambassador of TickleFit than her!
Lena_91: Read it too—same thoughts on it. But right until the last paragraph of your post I thought we were about to lose "our" Maja. DON’T let them change you, I beg of thee!
xXx: How come your blog is not trending on Pornhub by now 😛?! Asking for a friend…
Good_ole_days: I googled the interview. That Marta lady has no clue what she’s talking about. "We lay down barefoot like the serious women we are… and we jump off it clapping our bare feet like girls we used to be." If that were to be any true, Maja-girl would be thundering with her heavy boots!
Maja’s Responses:
Margo: A lifetime pass? You really think I’d be an ambassador for something so—let’s face it—oddly calming? Haha, okay, maybe I’m being a little hypocritical, but fine. I’ll take the pass, if I get to add a little punk rebellion to the experience. Seriously though, Marta might be a guru in some sense, but I think I’ve nailed the “no-nonsense, let’s-not-make-this-too-mystical” angle. Plus, I’m here for the laughs and the vulnerability, not the philosophical speeches.
Lena_91: Oh, no worries, Lena. The old me is still lurking in there somewhere, especially when I’m cackling like a lunatic. But I get it, trust me. Letting go of control? Definitely not my favorite thing to do either. I’ll stay true to myself, but who says I can’t add a little bit of unexpected fun to the mix? You know, let my rebellious streak have a moment without it turning into some soul-searching disaster.
xXx: Asking for a friend—sure, sure. 😂 Honestly, if this whole TickleFit thing ever gets turned into some kind of inappropriate genre, I’ll have to change my name to something less… punk. Like, Maja the Giggle Mistress or something. But hey, if you’re into that kind of thing, maybe you should just ask Marta for a more “sensual” take. I bet she’d spin it into some kind of spiritual awakening.
Good_ole_days: Ha! You know, I would thunder away in my boots, but honestly, I’m so beyond all the clapping-your-feet-like-a-giddy-girl talk. I mean, come on, do I really need to embrace that “girlhood” ideal just because I’m barefoot for a few minutes? Give me my boots, my punk anarchy, and maybe a hint of cathartic laughter, and I’ll still be the Maja you know. Barefoot and fierce.
Follow-Up Comments:
Secret_crush: Barefoot and fierce… I love this one! Could be a motto of some lady-warrior’s order 😀
Lena_91: As a side note, I admire that you were able to just kick off your shoes there… To me, it’s still way too intimate, and I am simply shy about my feet. Back in the days, those boots gave me protection but also tears and callouses…
Mean_girl: Lena_91—hate to break this to you: so do high heels. Don’t be shy. Am I redeeming myself, goddess Maja?
Maja’s Follow-Up Responses:
Secret_crush: Barefoot and fierce—I like the sound of that. Maybe I’ll get it printed on a T-shirt and wear it to the next session. It’s a good motto, though. A little badassery, a little vulnerability. Perfect for my warrior vibes. Who says you can’t feel both tough and, um, slightly ticklish at the same time?
Lena_91: Lena, I get you. There’s something so raw about being barefoot and exposed. It’s funny how something as simple as that can feel intimate or even vulnerable. My boots were like my armor too. The weight of them grounded me, hid my feet, kept the world at arm’s length. It’s hard to let go of that shield, but who knows? Maybe with enough laughter, I’ll start to appreciate the bare feet more. One step at a time, right?
Mean_girl: Oh, so true… High heels do so much damage… at both ends of the body 😉. But hey, it’s not about the footwear—it’s about what’s beneath. And as for redeeming yourself, I guess I’ll allow it. 😂 Let’s call it a mutual redemption arc. Who knew we’d all be here bonding over feet, right? If I’m a goddess now, I’m definitely wearing boots to the next session.
So, I went back. After my last laughing-my-face-off-while-trying-to-stay-cool session, I thought, Why not? Maybe it wasn’t as horrific as I imagined. Maybe I was even a little bit curious about what happens when you let go. I mean, if you’re going to let yourself get tickled, you might as well go all in, right?
This time, though, there was something… different.
They strapped me in, like before. Hands, feet, and yes, that lovely feeling of being immobile. But here’s where it gets tricky. Last time, I was too busy trying to control my reactions (pun intended), fighting to stay cool, to really notice the deeper weirdness of it all.
But today, for some reason, I was oddly okay with it.
There’s something about giving up control that’s… liberating. And trust me, this punk chick does not like the idea of surrendering. Ever. But there I was, lying there with my arms strapped, legs completely out of the equation, and honestly?
I kind of felt... safe.
I couldn’t move, and yeah, that freaked me out at first. But there’s this strange trust that builds up. Maybe it's the safe words, or maybe it’s just the sheer absurdity of the whole thing. But the more I let go, the more I realized I didn’t have to fight. I didn’t have to control. I didn’t have to be the tough one.
And it was surprisingly refreshing.
It’s not like I didn’t feel vulnerable—hell, I was literally strapped down like a ragdoll. But instead of it being scary, I realized that control, the one thing I thought I had to have at all costs, was more of a prison than a superpower.
This whole "let's get tickled until we scream" thing? It was helping me see that maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to not always be the boss of everything.
I still don’t get why the whole barefoot thing is part of the deal. It’s like they want you to feel more exposed, more... I don't know, raw. Whatever. I’m punk, and I’ll always find a way to put my spin on it.
But for now?
It’s funny how the more they strap me down, the more I realize I’m the one actually breaking free.
Anyway, I survived—no surprise there. But I’ll admit, it was easier this time. I laughed, I twitched, I maybe even giggle-screamed (ugh). But guess what? I didn’t die from it. And I didn’t feel like I was losing myself in the process.
Maybe there’s something to this whole surrendering control thing after all.
But don’t get it twisted—this doesn’t mean I’m suddenly going to turn into some wellness guru who talks about healing through tickles.
Still, maybe I’ve learned something. Or maybe I’m just learning how to laugh at myself.
Or maybe I’m just getting used to feeling a little vulnerable without having to punch someone afterward.
Baby steps, right?
User Comments:
Mean_girl: OK, I feel redeemed enough to finally say something mean. Someone once told me that if I needed to say I am a lady, then I am not one. Don’t get me wrong, I still find your "I am a punk" claims more reassuring than Marta’s "I am your savior"… but I actually trust it less and less each time you write that!
Bubbles: I’d jump into this TickleFit stuff headfirst… but there’s more stuff that holds me back than just showing my feet (which I could probably pamper). Why the hell must they always lie on their backs? I am okay to be restrained, but that position feels so weird… like a deadly injection setup in the movies. I’d sooner go in a dungeon than on that sterile beige table…
Maja’s Responses:
Mean_girl: Oof, now you’re hitting me with the hard truths, huh? Look, I get it. We all have our “I’m not like other girls” defense mechanism, and mine has always been the punk thing. It’s a shield, sure, but it’s also a part of me that I’m not giving up just because I’m getting a few laughs and learning how to let go of control.
The "I am a punk" thing? It’s not some mantra I chant to remind myself I’m cool—it’s just my way of saying I don’t need to fit into anyone's box. That doesn’t mean I’m going soft, though. Trust me, I’m still the same girl who thinks most wellness fads are absurd. I’m just starting to realize that vulnerability might not be the worst thing to feel every once in a while.
And if that makes me less punk to you, well… I guess I’ll survive.
Bubbles: Hah, I totally get where you're coming from. The whole lying on your back thing does feel a little “movie-torture” at first, right? You’re absolutely right—it’s like one of those scenes where they strap you down to get injected with some poison.
But here’s the kicker: once you're in it, the weirdness kind of fades away, and you start to realize you’re not actually dying here—just giving your body permission to freak out a little.
I won’t lie, I was definitely weirded out the first time I saw that sterile table setup. But somehow, it all becomes part of the ritual.
The “sterile beige” thing? Yeah, I get it—it's a little too clean and clinical, but there’s something about that contrast. Once you’re in it, you’re like, “Oh right, I'm not being tortured. I’m just laughing at myself.”
But hey, if you’re more dungeon vibes, I can’t argue with that. We all have our limits.
Alright, I’ve been thinking. And I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a dangerous one, considering the questionable state of my sanity after the last session.
Let’s talk about something that’s been rattling around in my head ever since I left TickleFit:
Is there more to this than just... tickling?
Is there some hidden psychological trick at play here?
I mean, I can’t help but wonder—am I really healing from my corporate soul crisis, or am I just getting mind-gamed by a bunch of women who’ve turned laughing and being strapped down into an art form?
Look, I get it: I’m a skeptic. Maybe that’s just part of being punk. You look at everything through a lens of “what’s the catch?” You wonder why someone thinks it’s okay to play psychoanalyst through tickles. Is this a breakthrough? A mental cleanse? Or is it just a way to make me realize I’m not as ‘cool’ as I thought I was because I’ve been giggling like a damn kid while someone holds my hands down?
(It’s a little mortifying, okay?)
But here’s the thing: there’s something about the whole experience that does feel... different. You can’t just ignore it.
I’m strapped in, I’m laughing, I’m being tickled by someone whose sole purpose is to make me squirm, but in some weird way, it feels like my brain is being forced to let go of all those walls I’ve built up.
I didn’t expect to leave the room thinking, “Oh, my emotional state has just been untangled by the power of tickling,” but I’ll be damned if I didn’t feel... lighter afterward.
It’s hard to explain. There’s that thing they keep talking about—the “surrendering of control” bit. Maybe it’s a trick, maybe it’s just a bunch of soft psychobabble.
But the more I think about it, the more I realize: by letting go of the need to control my reactions, I started to experience something that felt like... release.
I mean, hell, I didn’t expect it to feel like some kind of mind-altering experience. I wasn’t planning on having a breakthrough or anything.
But could it be that tickling is just a weird way of tricking the brain into giving you a little peace?
So maybe it’s psychological. Maybe it’s not about tickling at all.
Maybe it's just about breaking down the constant tension of “I need to be strong,” “I need to be in control,” and “I can’t be vulnerable.”
I’ve built those walls for years. And sure, maybe I’ve been a little reluctant to tear them down.
But at least here, with the laughter, the vulnerability, and the complete absurdity of it all, I’m starting to question:
Why do I need to hold on so tight to everything?
I’m still not convinced this is some kind of psychological therapy.
But the fact that I’m questioning it at all?
Well, that’s got to count for something, right?
User Comments:
Mean_girl: So what you’re telling me is that laughter is a science now? First, it was feet. Now, you’re making giggling into philosophy. Next post: "The Existential Crisis of a Belly Laugh." Can’t wait.
Bubbles: I’d be willing to give this a shot, but I swear my overthinking brain would ruin it. Like, what if I just… don’t laugh? What if I just lay there and awkwardly stare at the ceiling while everyone waits for something to happen?
Lurker: "Am I healing or am I just getting mind-gamed by a bunch of women?" – Maja, I swear you could write an entire book based on that one sentence.
Margo: I love this. You’re putting into words something I think we all feel but don’t really analyze—how laughter is a full-body reaction, not just something that happens to us. You really have a way of making even the weirdest topics feel meaningful.
Good_ole_days: I don’t care how absurd it sounds—this blog keeps making me smile. And yeah, maybe we all need a little more absurdity in our lives. Keep it up, Maja. You’re onto something here, even if it’s the weirdest “something” ever.
Maja’s Responses:
Mean_girl: Oh, I love the idea of “The Existential Crisis of a Belly Laugh.” Maybe I should actually write that one. Imagine me just sitting there, contemplating the meaning of giggles like some kind of ticklish Nietzsche. “To laugh or not to laugh: that is the question.”
Bubbles: Honestly? That was my exact fear too. I was so sure I’d be the one person who wouldn’t react. But trust me, your body betrays you. You think you have control over it, but the second they find that spot—game over. (But hey, worst case? You just get a weird staring contest with your instructor. That’s still an experience, right?)
Lurker: A book, huh? "Ticklishly Untangled: One Goth’s Journey Through Laughter and Existential Dread." (Subtitle: Am I Free or Am I Just Highly Suggestible?) I mean, I’d read it.
Margo: That’s exactly it! We think of laughter as this casual thing, but it’s actually a full-body experience. And if you really let go, it changes you. I never expected to be thinking this deeply about it either, but here we are.
Good_ole_days: I never thought absurdity would be my brand, but at this point, I might as well embrace it. If this blog makes people laugh, think, or even just pause for a second in their day—then it’s worth it.
Alright, let’s get this out of the way: I’ve heard the jokes. I’ve read the comments. I know what you’re thinking—“Maja, when did your life turn into a foot-themed existential crisis?”
Trust me, I ask myself the same thing every time someone mentions "foot personality" like it's an actual thing.
So let’s address the elephant in the room: the feet.
Or more specifically, the idea that my feet apparently have a personality of their own.
I’m still wrapping my head around this one. Like, did I miss some part of biology class where they explained that your toes are the window to your soul? I’m not saying it’s complete nonsense, but… it feels oddly convenient for a place built around tickling people senseless.
According to Marta (aka the TickleFit guru), our feet “speak” when the rest of our body is immobilized. And by “speak,” she means every twitch, every wiggle, every little toe curl is somehow revealing my inner emotional world.
So, what did my feet apparently say about me?
That they’re rebellious.
Of course.
Because apparently, I can't just be a person—I have to be a walking metaphor.
But here’s the thing: I kind of get it.
There’s something undeniably raw about being barefoot. Maybe it’s because I used to hide my feet in heavy boots, back in my punk-goth days, and only took them off when absolutely necessary. My boots were armor. They were heavy, loud, and unapologetic.
And here I am now, barefoot, strapped down, and having some overzealous wellness instructor telling me that my toes are “fighting back.”
At first, I thought it was ridiculous.
But the more I paid attention, the more I started to notice something… interesting.
My feet do react to everything. When I’m anxious, they tense up. When I laugh uncontrollably, they flex and point in every direction. It’s almost like they’re doing their own little dance, completely outside of my control.
And maybe that’s the point: they’re the one part of me that I can’t micromanage. They just are.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to start journaling about my “foot journey” or writing poems about the profound beauty of wiggling toes. (Can you imagine? "Ode to My Rebellious Soles.")
But there’s something kind of refreshing about letting go of all the pretense, all the carefully curated toughness, and just… being.
If my feet want to curl up and twitch like they’ve got something to say, fine. Let them.
Maybe they’ve earned it.
That said, I still draw the line at calling this “spiritual.” My feet aren’t whispering the secrets of the universe. They’re just reacting to tickling, like any sane person’s would.
But maybe that’s enough.
Maybe the freedom to twitch, wiggle, and laugh uncontrollably is a little bit of rebellion in itself.
User Comments:
Mean_girl: Good move! "I may not be punk, but my toes are." I delegate it to them, won’t micromanage. 😀
Margo: Cool that you addressed that elephant in the room… I read those interviews and wondered, "Do they really show you your feet struggling on camera every time?!" I mean… do they?
Maja’s Responses:
Mean_girl: Exactly! Delegating the rebellion to my toes might be the smartest thing I’ve done in a while. Who needs the whole "I’m punk" speech when I’ve got these little rebels twitching and flexing all on their own? Honestly, they’re doing a better job of staying true to the vibe than I am most days. Maybe I should let them run the blog next.
Margo: Oh, the camera thing… yeah, let me just say, that was a whole experience in itself. They don’t always show you the footage, but when they do, it’s like watching a bizarre nature documentary about yourself.
"Here we see the wild Maja’s feet in their natural habitat, fighting against the merciless tickle attack..."
It’s weirdly fascinating and mortifying all at once.
So no, they don’t shove the footage in your face every time, but when they do? It’s definitely something you won’t forget.
Trust me.
And yet, here we are.
Life’s funny that way, isn’t it?
Let me set the scene: it’s Tuesday morning, and I’m at my desk, furiously clicking away at an Excel spreadsheet that refuses to cooperate. The existential dread of “what am I doing with my life?” has just started to set in when I remember:
Today is a TickleFit day.
And for once, I actually feel… relief?
Like, knowing that in a few hours, I’ll be laughing so hard I can’t breathe instead of stressing over pivot tables feels like a small, ridiculous win.
Here’s the thing: corporate life has a way of turning you into a robot.
Wake up. Work. Repeat.
You spend so much time putting on your “professional” face that you forget what it’s like to just… exist. To be messy, human, and unguarded.
But then you walk into a TickleFit session, and all that carefully constructed composure goes out the window.
Because there’s no pretending you’re in control when someone’s tickling your ribs and you’re laughing like a maniac.
It’s absurd, sure.
But that absurdity is what makes it work.
There’s no space for overthinking when you’re strapped down, laughing so hard your stomach hurts. It’s like a hard reset for your brain.
All those little worries—about deadlines, meetings, and whether you’re doing enough to prove your worth—suddenly don’t matter.
In that moment, all you can do is laugh.
And the best part?
It sticks with you.
After a session, I feel lighter.
Like all the corporate nonsense doesn’t have quite the same hold on me as it did before.
Don’t get me wrong—I’m still annoyed by Karen from accounting and her constant passive-aggressive emails.
But somehow, it feels easier to brush off.
Maybe it’s because I’ve already surrendered to the chaos in one setting, so it’s easier to let it go in another.
That said, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows.
There’s still a part of me that feels weird about the whole thing. I mean, seriously, tickling therapy? How did my life get here?
But then I think about how good it feels to just laugh—without worrying about how I look, what people think, or whether I’m “cool” enough—and I realize:
Maybe this is what I’ve been missing.
So here’s my hot take:
Corporate burnout isn’t just about the work—it’s about losing touch with yourself.
And while I’m not about to start preaching that tickling is the cure for all your problems, I will say this:
It’s helped me find something I didn’t even know I’d lost.
Joy.
Laughter.
The ability to just be.
And in a world where we’re all so focused on achieving, succeeding, and keeping it together…
Maybe that’s the real therapy.
User Comments:
Little_witch: Call me unsophisticated, but I keep wondering about the physical, not the mental exhaustion… If I were in your no-shoes during that session, I’m quite sure I wouldn’t drag myself out of bed the next morning, let alone tame the Excels… That’s why I never got really into any sports or fitness! Do I have a shot at TickleFit?
Good_ole_days: I love reading about your sessions! You interchangeably become my crush and my little sister, and both are adorable! Do you also feel anything like that when watching others’ sessions?
Secret_crush: I wish I could see your playlists—for workouts and for relaxation… or should I say aftercare? 😉 Be sure to publish them on Spotify if you have any!
Maja’s Responses:
Little_witch: Oh, I feel you. The whole "dragging yourself out of bed after a workout" thing? That’s why my relationship with fitness has always been, uh… complicated.
But here’s the deal:
TickleFit isn’t about grueling physical exhaustion—it’s not like running marathons or flipping tires CrossFit-style (thank goodness).
Sure, you laugh so hard your abs feel sore the next day, and your body gets a bit wobbly from all the squirming and twitching, but it’s not the kind of workout that leaves you incapacitated.
If anything, the mental reset outweighs the physical toll.
And honestly, if you’ve avoided sports or fitness because they seem too intense or, let’s be real, boring, TickleFit might actually surprise you.
It’s weird, ridiculous, and not about being “good” at anything—it’s just about showing up, laughing your butt off, and maybe discovering a new kind of lightness.
So, do you have a shot?
Absolutely.
Just bring your bare feet and an open mind.
No gym membership required.
Good_ole_days: Aww, now you’ve got me blushing! Crush and little sister? That’s quite the combo, but I’ll take it—it’s probably the closest thing I’ve had to a punk fan club in years.
As for watching others’ sessions, oh, absolutely.
There’s something oddly fascinating about seeing people let go of all their walls and just… be.
Sometimes, I catch myself cheering them on in my head, like, “Yeah, you’ve got this!”
Other times, I’m just in awe of how open and connected they are, especially in pairs like Kasia and Paulina.
It’s like seeing a whole other side of people, one that’s usually hidden away.
It makes me wonder if I ever look that raw and relatable when I’m on the table.
Probably not.
I’m too busy trying to keep my toes from “revealing my soul.”
But hey, who knows?
Secret_crush: Oh, you want my playlists?
Alright, I’ll bite.
Workout mode? Full punk and goth energy—think Dead Kennedys, The Cure, and maybe a little Misfits to keep things interesting.
For aftercare? (Which, let’s be real, we all need.)
The transition starts with Siouxsie and the Banshees and eventually melts into something dreamy—like Cocteau Twins or Mazzy Star.
I wasn’t planning on dropping them anywhere, but now that you’ve asked…
I might just have to put together some TickleFit-inspired mixes and see what happens.
Stay tuned.
#7: "TickleFit vs. Punk Rock: The Ultimate Showdown"
Punk rock and TickleFit.
On paper, they couldn’t be more different.
One’s all about rebellion, chaos, and flipping off authority.
The other?
Let’s be real—it’s structured, controlled, and weirdly wholesome in a way that makes my inner anarchist twitch.
So, how the hell did I, Maja the Forever Punk, end up willingly strapping myself to a table and laughing my soul out?
Let’s start with the obvious: punk is about breaking rules, and TickleFit is… well, all rules.
You don’t just walk in and do your own thing. There’s a process—take off your shoes, lie down, get strapped in, and surrender yourself to whatever happens next.
Surrender.
If you’d told 17-year-old me that I’d ever voluntarily surrender anything, I would’ve rolled my heavily-lined eyes and gone back to blasting The Clash.
But the weird thing is, the structure of TickleFit doesn’t feel oppressive.
It feels… freeing.
Yeah, I know how that sounds.
The girl who used to tear down authority is now saying rules can be freeing?
What am I, a corporate shill? (Okay, maybe I am now, thanks to my job, but I digress.)
What I mean is, when you know there’s a framework in place—a safe word, clear boundaries—you can actually let go.
You don’t have to be in charge.
And that’s where the magic happens.
It’s like controlled chaos.
Kind of like the best punk shows, where the mosh pit looks wild but somehow no one ever really gets hurt.
But here’s where TickleFit gets even weirder:
It’s not just about you.
Punk was always this personal thing for me, an expression of my own rage, my own rebellion.
TickleFit, though, is strangely communal.
When you’re in that room, you’re not just experiencing your own laughter—you’re hearing everyone else’s too.
There’s this raw, unfiltered energy in the air that reminds me of being packed into a tiny, sweaty venue with a bunch of strangers who all know the words to the same song.
It’s messy, it’s loud, and it’s incredibly human.
So, is TickleFit punk?
Not exactly.
But here’s the thing: it doesn’t have to be.
It doesn’t need leather jackets, ripped tights, or angry guitar riffs to challenge the system.
In its own bizarre way, it’s subversive.
It takes something as silly and vulnerable as laughter and turns it into a form of strength.
It’s not about flipping off authority; it’s about flipping off your own fear of looking ridiculous.
And honestly?
That’s punk as hell.
The old me would probably scoff at all this—“You’re letting someone tickle you and calling it empowering?”—but I think she’d get it eventually.
Because even punk isn’t just about destruction.
It’s about building something better in its place.
And maybe, just maybe, letting yourself laugh like an idiot while someone else holds all the cards is one way to start.
So, who wins the ultimate showdown?
Punk rock or TickleFit?
Honestly, they don’t need to fight.
They’re two sides of the same coin: freedom through chaos.
And maybe, just maybe, I can be both.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: I can so much relate to what you wrote! I am on my way to the sessions… not sure when I get there yet, but I’ll be there! Make sure to get your referral from Marta!
Anarchy_in_PL: I don’t know much about TickleFit, but how is it more of a communal experience to you than music?!
Maja’s Responses:
Tenderfoot: Oh, you’re on your way, huh? I love that!
Trust me, I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I first showed up, but once you’re there, it’s one of those you-just-have-to-experience-it things.
And as for getting my referral bonus from Marta—ha! I’ll make sure she knows she owes me a lifetime supply of free sessions for being TickleFit’s punk ambassador.
Good luck, Tenderfoot.
I’ll save you a spot on the table!
Anarchy_in_PL: I get what you’re saying—music is absolutely a communal experience.
When you’re in the pit at a punk show, singing your heart out with strangers who feel like family for three minutes, it’s raw and electric.
But TickleFit hits differently (pun intended).
It’s not about shouting the same lyrics; it’s about the vulnerability of letting other people see you completely lose your cool.
The laughter becomes this shared language that’s impossible to fake.
It’s not better than music—it’s just… a different kind of connection.
Think of it like a really weird, really intimate encore.
#8: "I Laughed, I Cried... Wait, That’s Not Punk"
Let me just start by saying: crying?
Not exactly part of my usual wellness plan.
Laughter, sure. A little tickling-induced hysteria? Fine.
But tears?
No thanks.
That was never supposed to be part of the deal.
And yet, here we are.
So let me paint the picture for you: I’m on the table, strapped in like usual. It’s my third or fourth session, and by now, I know the drill.
Take off your shoes, lie down, and let the chaos begin.
It’s all fun and games at first—laughing so hard I can’t breathe, twisting around like a ridiculous fish out of water.
Typical TickleFit antics.
But then something weird happens.
In the middle of all the laughter, there’s this sudden shift.
It’s hard to explain, but it’s like the floodgates open, and all the stress, all the tension I didn’t even realize I was carrying, just pours out.
And before I know it, I’m crying.
Not the cute, single-tear, dramatic-movie kind of crying.
I’m talking full-on ugly cry.
And what’s even worse?
I’m still laughing at the same time.
It’s a bizarre combination—laughing and crying together.
On one hand, I feel completely ridiculous.
Like, this is NOT how I imagined my punk self handling anything.
On the other hand?
It feels kind of… amazing.
It’s like all those walls I’ve built over the years—trying to be tough, trying not to care—just crumbled in that moment.
I always thought crying was a sign of weakness.
Vulnerability wasn’t punk.
Punk was strength, rebellion, never letting the world see you break.
But here’s the thing:
Maybe letting yourself fall apart a little is strength.
Maybe it’s not about pretending you’ve got it all together but about letting yourself feel everything—even the messy, uncomfortable parts.
After the session, one of the instructors came up to me.
She didn’t say much, just gave me this knowing look, like she’d seen it all before.
"Sometimes it’s like that," she said. "Sometimes your body just knows what it needs."
And I hated how much that made sense.
So yeah, I cried during TickleFit.
And yeah, it felt like a betrayal of my inner punk.
But maybe it wasn’t.
Maybe it was just another way of flipping off the world—saying, “I don’t care if you see me like this because I’m not hiding anymore.”
And if that’s not punk, then I don’t know what is.
User Comments:
Margo: Wait, you cried and they just went on?! Didn’t your feet tell them it was coming? I’m uneasy now…
Desdemona: Again, makes perfect sense to me… your punk side gave way to goth…
Good_ole_days: Can I give you a hug?
Tenderfoot: You didn’t scare me off. I’m closer than ever. And I’ll be at your table if you need me.
Mean_girl: Oh wow, Maja. "I laughed, I cried"? And then "the walls I built came crumbling down"? Babe. You didn’t just have an emotional breakthrough; you had a crossover episode between Sinatra and Beyoncé. Do you need a moment? A playlist? A fainting couch?
Maja’s Responses:
Margo: Oh, they definitely didn’t just bulldoze through my emotional meltdown.
The whole session slowed down once the tears started flowing—it wasn’t some cold, “let’s keep going” thing.
The instructors have this almost freakish ability to read the room—or, in this case, your feet.
Maybe my toes did send out a distress signal; who knows?
Either way, they gave me the space to feel everything without pushing me too far.
So don’t worry, Margo—it wasn’t like I was left to drown in my own emotional soup.
They knew what they were doing.
Desdemona: Ha! So now I’m switching from punk to goth, huh?
You might have a point there.
The crying does feel a little too poetic and tortured to be straight-up punk.
But hey, maybe that’s just me embracing all my layers.
A little punk, a little goth, a little… whatever TickleFit is.
Who says I can’t be all of it?
Good_ole_days: That’s sweet of you!
A hug would’ve been nice in that moment, actually—though I probably would’ve squirmed out of it, knowing me.
I think I’ve spent so much time convincing myself I didn’t need things like hugs that I forgot how good they can feel.
So yeah, virtual hugs accepted.
Thanks for that.
Tenderfoot: You’re officially the bravest person I know—or at least the most curious!
Honestly, I love that you’re this close to diving in.
And hey, if you do make it to TickleFit, just know that the table’s not as scary as it seems.
(Okay, maybe a little at first, but you get over it.)
If you ever need someone to giggle alongside—or just someone to give you the “you’ve got this” nod—I’ll be right there.
Let me know how it goes.
You’ve got this!
Mean_girl: I KNEW YOU WERE GONNA DEFLECT. Look, I’m just saying, next time you’re on that table, and the emotions hit, don’t fight it. Just belt out Sinatra while Beyoncé plays in the background. Let the moment happen. And if I start quoting "My Way" in the middle of a session, I might just ascend into a different plane of existence. But now I do want to know… what would my ultimate TickleFit breakdown soundtrack be?
I don’t mean the cheesy, “we’re-besties-who-post-brunch-pics” kind of connection.
I mean real connection—the kind that doesn’t need words because it’s built on trust, history, and knowing exactly who the other person is.
Their session was almost like a dance, even though they were strapped to those infamous beige tables.
It wasn’t just about the tickling (though there was a lot of that).
It was the way they reacted to each other—the shared laughter, the occasional glances that said, “You’ve got me, right?” even when they were too busy squirming to actually say it out loud.
It felt intimate in a way that made me… well, a little envious, if I’m being honest.
I’ve always been a lone wolf kind of person.
Don’t get me wrong—I’ve had friends, some good ones even, but I’ve never really had that one person.
You know, the one who would show up without hesitation when the chips are down. The one you’d trust to share your most vulnerable moments with—whether it’s crying in a bathroom stall or laughing like a maniac while strapped to a table.
And watching Kasia and Paulina?
It made me realize how much I miss—or maybe how much I’ve never had—a connection like that.
There was this moment during their session where Paulina whispered something to Kasia before they were both about to get absolutely wrecked by the tickling (and yes, I mean that in the most wholesome way possible).
Kasia laughed, even as her eyes teared up, and just nodded.
Like she knew whatever Paulina said didn’t need explaining.
It was this unspoken language of “I’ve got you.”
And that hit me.
I don’t know if I’d ever let anyone that close.
Maybe that’s my punk armor talking—years of telling myself I didn’t need anyone to survive, that going solo was somehow a badge of honor.
But watching Kasia and Paulina made me wonder:
Maybe being strong isn’t about going it alone.
Maybe it’s about letting someone else in, even when it’s scary.
Especially when it’s scary.
I think that’s part of why TickleFit works.
It’s not just about the laughing or the tickling or even the vulnerability—it’s about sharing those moments with someone else.
Even if you’re on separate tables.
Even if you’re just watching from the sidelines.
You can’t help but feel the connections forming in that room.
So yeah, maybe I don’t have a Paulina.
Not yet, anyway.
But watching them gave me hope that maybe, someday, I will.
And when that day comes?
I hope I’ll have the courage to let them in, bare feet and all.
User Comments:
Margo: Please set it straight: are these your thoughts on THE session they had before that interview or just any of their sessions? You may not like that they steal the limelight, but when I read the interview, it felt like reading about an… idol? I keep wondering how much the journalist colored them up… and who can cut through the crap if not you (if there was any)! Don’t get me wrong, I love your post… and I totally relate to your longing for a true friend! I just crave your insider perspective, too.
Lurker: I second that! I hate to be that guy, but I just can’t resist a sneak peek into this foot-filming creep and the mind games your guru played with them.
Tenderfoot: Don’t worry, Maja, be yourself! It’s great that you tell us just what you’re comfortable with. I can’t wait to meet you!
Maja’s Responses:
Margo: Oh, Margo, you know I’ll always cut through the crap for you!
So, here’s the deal:
Yes, this post is about that session—the one that got all the attention, the interviews, and the glowing reviews.
And let me tell you, it wasn’t some overhyped, glossy fabrication.
Kasia and Paulina are the real deal.
What you read in that interview? Honestly, not far from the truth.
But as for the idolizing tone?
Yeah, I can see how the journalist might’ve leaned into the drama a bit.
That whole “foot-filming” thing was intense, though not as creepy as it sounds.
It wasn’t about objectifying or mind games—it was about showing them their own reactions, their instinctive connection, in a way that words couldn’t explain.
Watching it from the sidelines, I can tell you:
Nothing about their dynamic felt fake.
It was raw, real, and unpolished—kind of like them.
So yeah, the hype?
Pretty justified.
I just hope they’re ready to share that limelight because there’s room for all of us here, right?
Lurker: Okay, I get it—the “foot-filming creep” thing sounds like a subplot from a bad thriller, but it’s really not like that.
I was watching when Marta and the instructors brought out the footage, and it wasn’t some sinister, manipulative moment.
It was more like, “Hey, look how your body reacts when your mind isn’t in control.”
Weird? Sure.
But effective? Also yes.
And Marta’s whole “your feet tell the story” philosophy might feel over the top, but in that session?
I think it clicked for Kasia and Paulina.
It’s like they saw themselves—who they are for each other—through their reactions.
I won’t lie; it was fascinating.
Creepy? Not so much.
Marta may be intense, but she’s not a villain.
Just… a little dramatic.
Tenderfoot: You’re so sweet, Tenderfoot—thank you for that.
I’m definitely trying to strike a balance between sharing honestly and not oversharing, you know?
There’s a lot to unpack in this whole TickleFit journey, and I want to do it in a way that feels true to me.
I can’t wait to meet you either!
You’re going to love it (even the weird parts, trust me).
Follow-Up Comments:
Margo: OK, so these two really did buy into this "we-clap-our-bare-feet-on-the-floor-like-giddy-girls" stuff?
Lurker: Thank you, so lovely of you to answer these so patiently! Now we wait for Tenderfoot to corroborate your stories!
Maja’s Follow-Up Responses:
Margo: Ha! I don’t think they’re literally clapping their bare feet like some cheesy rom-com montage, but you know what?
They did seem to embrace the whole “letting go and laughing like kids” thing.
And honestly?
It worked for them.
Watching them was like seeing two people completely drop their guards and just be in the moment.
So yeah, maybe there’s a hint of truth to the whole “giddy girl” philosophy.
But if you ask me, it’s less about the feet-on-the-floor visuals and more about finding joy in being ridiculously unfiltered.
Still not sure if I’ll ever clap my own feet, though.
Some boundaries stay sacred.
I know, I know—again?
Believe me, I didn’t expect my TickleFit journey to turn into some kind of foot-centric odyssey either, but here we are.
The thing is, when you’re in a place that insists your feet are the key to vulnerability, connection, and self-discovery, you kind of have to stop and think:
What’s the deal with feet?
For starters, I get why feet make people uneasy.
They’re weird, often hidden, and, let’s be real, not exactly the most glamorous part of the body.
My punk boots were always my armor—not just for stomping down sidewalks but for covering up a part of me I didn’t want to think about.
And yet, in TickleFit, your feet take center stage.
There’s no hiding them.
No socks.
No shoes.
No excuses.
Marta (our guru, in case you’ve missed the recurring star of this blog) likes to call feet the “truth tellers” of the body.
And while that sounds like something out of a self-help book I’d usually roll my eyes at, there’s some weird truth to it.
When you’re strapped to that table, your feet are the only part of you that can fully react.
They wiggle.
They twitch.
They flex.
They “speak,” as Marta would say, in ways you can’t control.
And for someone like me, who’s spent years trying to control everything, that’s kind of a big deal.
I’ve seen it in myself, and I’ve seen it in others.
Watching Kasia and Paulina’s session, for example, it wasn’t their laughter or their words that told the real story.
It was their feet.
The way Paulina’s toes would curl toward Kasia when things got intense, almost like she was reaching out for her.
The way Kasia’s feet would try to shield themselves, then relax when Paulina’s laughter filled the room.
It was all there, this unspoken language, in the movement of their feet.
And then there’s me.
My feet?
Total rebels.
They fight.
They resist.
They twitch and spasm and do everything in their power to avoid giving in.
But here’s the funny part:
When I stop trying to control them—when I let them “speak”—that’s when I start to feel something shift.
It’s like they’re saying, “Finally, you’re listening.”
Do I think feet are the key to unlocking the mysteries of the universe?
Probably not.
But do I think they hold more power than we give them credit for?
Definitely.
They’re raw, unfiltered, and impossible to micromanage.
They’re the part of you that reacts instinctively, without overthinking.
And maybe that’s why TickleFit puts so much emphasis on them—because they’re the part of you that’s closest to the truth.
So yeah, I laughed, I cried, and now I see:
Feet matter.
Not because they’re magical or mystical, but because they’re real.
They’re a reminder that sometimes, the best way to move forward is to stop trying to control every step.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: knock knock*
Maja’s Response:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, hey there, Tenderfoot!
Is that you knocking on the TickleFit door already?
I’m getting the feeling you’re closer than ever to joining the fun.
Or maybe you’re just here to keep me on my toes (pun fully intended).
Either way, you’ve got my attention—what’s up?
Spill the beans!
I’ve been thinking a lot about what it takes to start something new—like, really start.
Not the “Oh, that sounds cool, maybe I’ll try it someday” kind of start, but the moment when you stop lurking at the edges and actually take that first step into the unknown.
It’s terrifying, right?
Whether it’s walking into TickleFit or showing up for anything that makes you feel exposed, there’s always that nagging voice whispering, “What if this is a mistake?”
Tenderfoot, if you’re reading this (and I know you are), this one’s for you.
Because the way you’re inching closer to joining a session has me thinking about my own “big leap” moment—the one where I finally walked through that door, handed over my shoes, and surrendered to the absurdity.
And yeah, I’m still figuring it all out, but I can tell you this:
The hardest part is just showing up.
The thing about TickleFit—or any vulnerable experience, really—is that it forces you to face yourself.
It’s not just about the laughing or the tickling; it’s about being seen.
Your feet.
Your reactions.
Your guard coming down.
It’s raw, and sometimes it’s uncomfortable, but it’s also… real.
And once you’ve taken that first step, you realize you’re not alone.
There’s a room full of people who’ve been where you are, who know exactly how it feels to let go of control, even if just for a moment.
I’m not saying it’s easy.
There were plenty of times I wanted to bolt out the door and never look back.
But the funny thing is, every time I stayed, I learned something about myself.
Something I didn’t even know I needed to learn.
And that’s why I’m here for you, Tenderfoot.
Not to tell you what to expect or to sugarcoat it, but just to say:
You’ve got this.
Whatever happens, I’ll be there—on the sidelines or right at the table, cheering you on.
No pressure, no expectations.
Just a fellow traveler who knows how big this leap is.
So here’s to Tenderfoot and to anyone else standing on the edge, wondering if it’s worth it to dive in.
I can’t tell you what you’ll find on the other side, but I can promise you this:
You won’t be the same person you were before.
And maybe that’s the best reason of all to take that first step.
Bonus: 5 Things to Do Before Your First Visit to TickleFit
1. Say Goodbye to Your Socks
Seriously, this isn’t the time to cling to those “lucky” mismatched socks you’ve been wearing since college. The first thing they’ll do is have you go barefoot. Bonus tip: maybe give your feet a little TLC beforehand. Not because anyone’s judging (they’re not), but because you’ll be spending a lot of time staring at them.
2. Prepare to Laugh at Yourself (Literally)
Look, you’re going to laugh, and it’s not going to be cute. It’ll be the kind of laugh that makes your face go red and your stomach hurt. And you know what? That’s half the fun. Just embrace it.
3. Practice Your “What the Hell Am I Doing?” Face in the Mirror
There will be moments when you catch yourself thinking, “How did I end up here?” Own it. We’ve all been there. It’s part of the initiation.
4. Forget Everything You Thought You Knew About Control
You’re not in control here. That’s kind of the point. Let go, laugh, squirm, and maybe even cry a little. It’s all part of the absurd charm.
5. Don’t Take It Too Seriously
This is TickleFit, not a TED Talk on self-discovery. It’s supposed to be weird, fun, and maybe even a little awkward. The more you lean into the ridiculousness, the better it gets.
User Comments:
xXx: *Remind me again… you label yourself anarchist, right? Coz you’ve been sounding more like a founding mother of some new nation recently. 😀 No offense intended—it’s just endearing. 🙂 *
Tenderfoot:
Safe box for my lucky striped socks—checked…
Extract emo-tolerable parts of the playlist—checked…
Prepare to laugh at myself—recalled from university freshman year, should suffice…
Decipher “TLC”—checked…
Practice “What the hell am I doing” face—will do when implementing TLC…
Control & seriousness—Maja, I’ll need you here! I guess I’m as ready as I can be…
Margo: Cheers to Tenderfoot—don’t freak out, little one!
Shining_armors: Call for rescue, young maiden, and we will come!
xXx: Pun… intended?
Tenderfoot: What if I ACTUALLY NEED saving???
Maja’s Responses:
xXx: Founding mother of a new nation? Oh no, what have I done?
Does that mean I need to draft a constitution?
Don’t worry, though—this hypothetical nation would have anarchy in its DNA, complete with punk playlists and mandatory laughing fits for all citizens.
No offense taken—it’s hilarious and maybe a little accurate.
But hey, if being “endearing” is my downfall, I’ll take it.
Tenderfoot:
You’re cracking me up with this checklist! Freshman-year self-laughing skills? Sounds like you’ve got this on lock.
TLC, by the way, stands for “Tender Loving Care”—which is basically the motto for surviving TickleFit. (Or life, honestly.)
As for control and seriousness—don’t worry. I’ll be there to remind you to let those go.
You’re as ready as anyone can be for something as ridiculous as this. Let’s do it!
Margo: Cheers to that, Margo!
Tenderfoot’s got this, and I’ll be there to make sure she doesn’t freak out—though I think she’s doing just fine so far.
We’re all rooting for her.
Shining_armors:
A maiden in distress? At TickleFit?
Now that sounds like a plot twist waiting to happen.
I’d say we leave the rescuing to the instructors, though—they’re pretty good at steering you through the chaos.
Pun or no pun, you’re cracking me up.
Tenderfoot:
"You WON’T need saving. And if you do, I’ll be there.
For me, it was like crossing into some alternate dimension where being tied down and laughing uncontrollably is considered a wellness practice.
Now, watching Tenderfoot make her way toward her own first step?
It’s like seeing my journey all over again, only this time, I get to cheer from the sidelines.
When Tenderfoot walked into the room (yes, this actually happened—more on that in a second), I recognized the look on her face instantly.
Equal parts curiosity and “what the hell am I doing here?”
It’s a look I know well.
I lived it.
And if you’ve ever done anything that pushed you out of your comfort zone, you’ve probably lived it too.
We didn’t talk much at first.
It wasn’t the time for big, deep conversations—it was the time for small smiles, a quick “you’ve got this,” and letting her settle into the chaos at her own pace.
But here’s the thing about TickleFit:
It’s impossible to stay a stranger for long.
Once you’re in that room, hearing the laughter, seeing the vulnerability, you can’t help but feel like you’re part of something bigger.
Watching Tenderfoot take her first session was like watching someone find a piece of themselves they didn’t know was missing.
And while I’d love to say I was the wise, supportive guide who had all the answers, the truth is, I was just… there.
Sometimes that’s all you need—a familiar face to remind you that you’re not alone in whatever weird, wild thing you’re doing.
So, here’s to first steps, shared journeys, and the start of something that’s not quite friendship yet but maybe, someday, could be.
For now, I’m just happy to be along for the ride.
User Comments:
xXx: This has such big “first day of school” energy, Maja. Did you pack Tenderfoot a lunch too? I’m kidding, but seriously, it’s kind of sweet seeing you turn into the wellness goth Yoda. Just don’t start talking about “the force of vulnerability,” or I’ll lose it.
Mean_girl: Ah, so the barefoot goddess has taken on a disciple? Tenderfoot, welcome to the chaos. And Maja, I don’t care how punk you think you are—this was adorable. You’re starting to sound suspiciously like someone who knows what they’re doing. It’s almost scary.
Tenderfoot: Okay, first of all, let’s not overthink my “what the hell am I doing here?” face—it’s just my resting emo expression. Second, Maja, you’re way too nice. But seriously, having you there made the whole thing way less terrifying. I owe you one. (Also, xXx, you’d kill for my socks. Admit it.)
Margo: Cheers to Tenderfoot for surviving the initiation, and to Maja for being the coolest mentor ever! Honestly, this feels like the start of a new TickleFit duo. But no pressure—just enjoy the weirdness, both of you.
Good_ole_days: This is the most wholesome punk thing I’ve ever read. Maja, I feel like a proud older sibling watching you take Tenderfoot under your wing. Also, Tenderfoot, congrats! You’ve got this—and Maja’s clearly got your back.
Maja’s Responses:
xXx: Oh no. Is this it? Am I officially the wellness goth mentor now?
I refuse to start talking about “the force of vulnerability,” but let’s be real, I am starting to sound like someone who knows what they’re doing.
Terrifying.
And for the record, if I had packed Tenderfoot a lunch, it would’ve been the most emo meal imaginable.
Black coffee. A granola bar. And a note that just says “good luck, kid.”
Mean_girl: Barefoot goddess? Disciple?
Oh, this is too much power for one blog post.
I promise I haven’t become an all-knowing wellness entity. (Yet.)
I’m still the same semi-cynical, reluctant participant in all of this—I just happen to have enough experience now to warn people before they lose their minds on the table.
Or, in Tenderfoot’s case, to make sure she doesn’t bolt.
Tenderfoot:
First of all, resting emo expression is my favorite description of your face.
Second, I appreciate the honesty, and I appreciate you letting me be there for you, even if I technically did nothing except exist in the room.
But hey, sometimes that’s all you need.
(And yes, xXx wants those socks. It’s fine, just let them suffer.)
Margo: Coolest mentor ever?
I’ll allow it.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves—I’m still figuring this out, too.
But I love that we’re all getting to watch this journey unfold together, one ridiculous, giggly session at a time.
Good_ole_days:
Oh no, I’m really hitting the “proud sibling” level now, huh?
Guess that means I have to keep an eye on Tenderfoot now.
Wouldn’t want my little punk apprentice getting into too much trouble.
I mean, I’ve been in the room before.
I’ve watched Kasia and Paulina, I’ve seen others let go and lose themselves in the moment.
So why was watching Tenderfoot different?
Maybe it’s because, for the first time, it wasn’t just watching.
For the first time, I cared.
I saw the way her fingers curled into fists when she first got strapped in, the way she tried to brace for impact—like she was preparing for battle, when really, she had already lost.
(We all lose. That’s how it works.)
I recognized the way her body fought to stay in control, even as the laughter started bubbling up against her will.
I could see myself in her.
But the part I didn’t expect?
The part where I caught myself leaning in, mentally willing her to let go.
Not because I needed her to prove anything.
But because I knew—the second she stopped fighting, she’d feel it.
And when she did?
It hit me just as hard.
Because watching someone else lose control—especially someone you’ve been guiding, even accidentally—makes you realize just how much of yourself you’re still holding back.
So yeah, Tenderfoot had her first session.
She laughed.
She fought.
She lost.
But somehow, I walked away feeling like I’d learned something, too.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: Wait. WAIT. Are you saying you were watching me that closely?? You saw the fist thing?? Oh no. Oh NO. This is mortifying.
But seriously… with my Gen Z sensitivity—I know you psychoanalyzed my feet. But fine, it’s for the greater good. And I do love how you don’t overshare anything about my reactions and alleged emotions. And nor did you about Kasia and Paulina! You are very considerate of what is yours to share, please stick to that.
And I will share the rest… one day. I wanna see xXx hit F5 every 5 minutes until then. :evil: (No responsibility taken if I’ve just triggered an unintended DDoS on your blog 😉)
xXx: So you’re telling me you had an emotional revelation while watching your emo apprentice self-destruct? I feel like I’ve seen this movie before…
Margo: Is it just me, or does this feel big? Like, Maja, I swear I can feel you shifting while I read this. Not sure if you see it yet, but… you will.
Maja’s Responses:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, sweetheart.
I saw everything.
(Kidding. Mostly.)
But hey, don’t panic.
I wasn’t watching you like some emotionally invested hawk—more like… like someone who’s seen this happen before and knew exactly when it would hit you.
And let’s be real, you didn’t exactly have a poker face.
Also, noted—I’ll keep my deep-cut foot psychoanalysis contained for the greater good.
And don’t worry, your story is yours to tell. I get that.
But I love the idea of xXx absolutely destroying their keyboard waiting for your post.
xXx:
Oh great, now my life is a coming-of-age indie film.
What’s next? Slow-motion montage? Existential voice-over?
Margo:
…Yeah.
I feel it, too.
I don’t think I’m ready to put it into words yet.
But I think you’re right.
Not just for Tenderfoot to reach it—but for me to see it happen.
The thing about TickleFit is that you can’t halfway surrender to it.
You can fight it, sure—most people do at first.
You try to brace yourself, to stay in control, to pretend you’re handling it better than you really are.
But eventually?
You let go.
You have to.
And the second you do, everything shifts.
For me, that moment happened weeks ago.
For Tenderfoot?
It happened today.
At first, she was doing her best to keep it together.
She had that classic first-timer determination, that “this is fine” energy—like if she just focused hard enough, she could outthink her own body.
(Spoiler: She could not.)
But the second it hit—the moment when she stopped trying to hold on and just let herself react—I saw it.
That laugh that comes from somewhere deeper, not just from being tickled but from something breaking open inside you.
That moment where resistance collapses and is replaced with pure, helpless joy.
And just like that, the perfectly composed emo cryptid (her words, not mine) transformed into an absolute chaos gremlin.
I knew it the second it happened because I remembered what it felt like when it happened to me.
And I won’t lie—watching it happen to someone else?
It hit me hard.
Because it made me wonder:
If I could see that she had been holding back more than she realized…
Then what was I still holding back?
And am I brave enough to let it go?
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: Okay, but I feel like you’re making it sound way more poetic than it actually was. In my head, it was just, “Welp, guess I’m dying like this.”
xXx: Maja, you’re dangerously close to getting sentimental again. Proceed with caution.
Margo: This is what I meant before. You’re seeing yourself differently now, and I feel like it’s only going to keep happening. I love watching this unfold.
Mean_girl: Oh, this is cute. Your emo apprentice had her breakdown, and now you’re feeling things. But the real question is, did she scream? Because I feel like she screamed.
Shining_armors: Fair maiden hath suffered greatly? Fear not! We, noble knights, art on our way to rescue thee from thy peril!
xXx: OH FOR THE LOVE OF—SHE IS NOT A DAMSEL, SHINING. SHE IS A GREMLIN. A CHAOS GREMLIN. STAND DOWN. And please… I beg of thee! Keep thy steel-hard weaponry FAR away from us.
Maja’s Responses:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, don’t even try to downplay it.
I saw it.
And yeah, maybe in your head, it was just existential dread, but from my perspective?
It was art.
Also, I stand by my assessment—you went full chaos gremlin for a second there.
(But fine. Perfectly composed emo cryptid it is. I’ll update my notes accordingly.)
xXx:
Oh no, am I getting sentimental?
Someone stop me before I turn into a motivational speaker.
(But seriously, noted. I’ll try to balance my emotional revelations with more sarcasm next time.)
Margo:
You’re right.
I feel it happening.
And I don’t know where it’s leading yet, but I guess that’s part of the deal.
Stick around—let’s see where this goes.
Mean_girl:
Oh, she screamed.
It was glorious.
But more importantly?
She laughed.
And that’s the part that matters.
Shining_armors:
Oh no.
I knew this was coming.
Listen, Shining, buddy, I love the enthusiasm, but I promise you, there is no rescuing happening here.
The only thing Tenderfoot needed saving from was her own denial.
Also, xXx is right.
This was not a "noble maiden" situation.
This was a full-blown cryptid transformation, and it was beautiful.
Not the TickleFit transformation moment, not the Marta pulling me deeper than I ever expected moment—no, this was something else entirely.
This was the moment where I had to admit I can’t do everything at once.
I’ve been trying.
Trying to keep my job from swallowing me whole.
Trying to process everything that’s happened in the last few weeks.
Trying to keep this blog alive, to tell my story, to make sense of it all.
But I can’t. Not right now.
And that’s okay. Because, as it turns out, someone else has been quietly preparing for this moment, waiting for the right time to step in.
Tenderfoot.
A while back, she sent me a message:
"Hey, so… I’ve been writing. Since our first session, actually. Didn’t know if I’d ever share it, but if you ever need a break, I’d love to give it a shot. No pressure. Just putting it out there."
At the time, I thought, That’s cute. But this is my blog.
Now?
Now, I realize that this blog has never been just mine.
It’s been shaped by the people I’ve met, the ones who have changed me, the ones who have walked this path with me.
And Tenderfoot?
She gets this just as much as I do.
So, for the next few posts, Tenderfoot will be taking over—sharing her side of this journey.
And honestly?
I think she’s been waiting for this moment just as much as I have.
She’s got something to say.
And I think it’s time we listen.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: NO STOP YOU CAN’T JUST INTRODUCE ME LIKE THAT, NOW I HAVE STAGE FRIGHT. But for real—Maja, you’ve carried this blog through so much. Let me carry it for a bit. (Also, if anyone has a time machine so I can go back and edit all my dramatic overreactions before posting them, that would be great.)
xXx: OH WE ARE SO BACK. Tenderfoot unleashed on the blog? This is gonna be chaotic. Also, Maja admitting she needs a break?? Who had “character development” on their bingo card?
Margo: This is actually perfect. The blog has been shifting for a while—this just makes it official. I cannot wait to read what Tenderfoot has been sitting on this whole time.
Mean_girl: I can already tell Tenderfoot’s posts are going to be unhinged in the best way possible. I AM READY.
Good_ole_days: This is huge. The blog is evolving, just like you are, Maja. And honestly? I love that for both of you.
Lurker: A single G note echoes in the distance…
Tenderfoot (Follow-up): NO. NOPE. ABSOLUTELY NOT. I AM NOT READY FOR THIS LEVEL OF MELODRAMA. (But also, I walked straight into this, didn’t I?)
xXx: Oh god. Are we summoning an emo breakdown? Is this the true initiation? Do we need to dim the lights and start blasting My Chemical Romance?
Shining_armors: Lo, the G note hath been struck! A call most dire, yet none shall turn away, for the path is set, and we must ride forth into fate! (Or, at the very least, into whatever chaos Tenderfoot is about to unleash.)
Maja’s Response:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, you’ll be fine.
(Probably.)
And hey, if you’re that worried about your past dramatic overreactions, don’t worry—I have them all saved.
For, you know… historical accuracy purposes.
xXx:
Oh, now this is a moment.
TickleFit chaos?
Maja admitting she needs a break?
Tenderfoot taking over the blog?
This does feel like a coming-of-age arc, and I refuse to be held responsible for what happens next.
(Also, the MCR reference? Strong work. We are officially in emo territory now.)
Margo:
You’re right.
This has been shifting.
And maybe it was always supposed to.
So let’s see what happens next.
Mean_girl:
If anyone is going to bring absolute unhinged energy to this blog, it’s Tenderfoot.
(And honestly? I’m ready for it, too.)
Good_ole_days:
Evolution, huh?
Yeah.
I guess that’s what this is.
And for the first time, I think I’m actually okay with that.
Lurker:
Oh, no.
Not the G note.
Tenderfoot, run.
Shining_armors:
You know what?
This time, I’m not even stopping you.
Because whatever chaos is about to unfold, we are all in it now.
I almost didn’t walk through that door.
I know, I know—how dramatic. But seriously, I stood outside that building, staring at the entrance like it was some kind of portal to another dimension.
I must have looked completely unhinged. Just standing there, one foot forward, one foot back, like I was debating whether to enter a haunted house or join a cult.
Because, let’s be real—what kind of person chooses to be tied down and tickled for self-discovery?
Not me.
Not the cautious, overthinking, definitely-not-here-for-anything-weird version of me that was having a full-on crisis on the sidewalk.
And yet, there I was.
I had read Maja’s blog. I had lurked in the comments (shoutout to Lurker, solidarity). I had done the thing where you say “Maybe I’ll try it someday” just to keep the idea at a safe distance.
But actually going in?
That was another story.
I had every excuse ready to turn around. I told myself I was too busy, too tired, too normal for this. I told myself that I didn’t belong in a place where people laughed until they couldn’t breathe, where they let themselves be seen like that.
And then I thought about Maja.
About how she showed up, even when she didn’t believe in it at first. About how she let it happen—even when it freaked her out.
And suddenly, the excuses felt like what they really were—stalling.
So I took a breath.
I walked in.
And you know what?
It was weirder than I expected.
The first thing that hit me was how… calm the place was. Like, I don’t know what I was expecting—maybe flashing lights, ominous music, some secret underground tickle cult initiation (which, for the record, is still how xXx describes it).
But it wasn’t like that.
It was soft. Welcoming. And weirdly safe.
And then I saw her.
Maja. Sitting there, looking up at me with this expression that said,
There you are.
And just like that, I knew I wasn’t backing out.
User Comments:
Maja: Tenderfoot. I cannot believe you just casually admitted to having a full existential breakdown on the sidewalk while I was inside, blissfully unaware. Also, “soft, welcoming, and weirdly safe” is not the tagline I expected for TickleFit, but I love it.
xXx: AH YES, THE FIRST TIME. The sidewalk hesitation. The “why am I here” moment. The mild concern that you are joining a cult. Classic. This is a rite of passage.
Lurker: Solidarity? SOLIDARITY. I knew I liked you, Tenderfoot. Also, this was actually kind of beautiful???
Shining_armors: Lo, the maiden did falter at the threshold! But she did press on, and thus, her legend doth begin! (Also, I would pay to see security footage of you dramatically hesitating outside that building.)
Mean_girl: Okay, but the way you just admitted that Maja was the reason you stepped in??? This blog is turning into a found family novel, and I am living for it.
Good_ole_days: You were always going to walk in, Tenderfoot. You just needed to realize it yourself. And I love that Maja was the first thing you saw. This was perfect.
Tenderfoot’s Response:
Maja:
Oh, don’t even act surprised.
I was standing out there for a full five minutes like an NPC waiting for a dialogue prompt.
Also, you were the reason I walked in, so technically, this is your fault.
xXx:
Oh, so this is an actual shared experience? Everyone has the hesitation moment?
Okay, good. Glad to know I wasn’t just being extra.
(But also? Still not convinced this isn’t a cult. Just a really wholesome, laughter-based one.)
Lurker:
SOLIDARITY.
(Also, thank you—but if you think this was beautiful, just wait until I start spiraling in real time.)
Shining_armors:
Oh my god. I knew you were going to go full knight mode on this.
And honestly? I respect it.
(But also, no, you may not have the security footage. That is classified.)
Mean_girl:
Look, I did not come here to get emotional over the found family trope, and yet?? Here we are.
Good_ole_days:
I—okay, wow. That was unexpectedly sweet.
(Ugh, why am I getting emotional over my own blog takeover? Help.)
I knew it was going to be weird.
I thought I knew what to expect—laughing, squirming, Maja watching me like a proud but slightly amused goth mom. But knowing something in theory and actually experiencing it?
Two entirely different things.
Because when it started?
I fought it.
Not in the dramatic, screaming, oh no, I’ve made a mistake kind of way. No, I did that internally, like any self-respecting overthinker.
Outwardly? I was just tense.
The kind of tense where you tell yourself you can control this, that you can handle it.
Spoiler alert: You cannot handle it.
The moment I felt the first real touch—this ridiculously light, completely unfair, why-is-this-so-effective kind of touch—my body betrayed me in ways I did not think possible.
And that’s when I realized:
This wasn’t about being ticklish.
This was about control.
Or, in my case, the complete and utter loss of it.
I felt it happen in real-time. That moment where I thought I was still in charge of my reactions, only to realize I was laughing harder than I ever have in my life, completely unable to stop.
I felt my body give in before my brain could catch up, like it was saying,
Finally. You’re not overthinking. Just let it happen.
And once I really let go?
I didn’t just laugh.
I felt free.
For someone who has spent way too much time keeping it together, keeping things in check, keeping myself composed—there was something almost… ridiculous about realizing that all it took to break me was a well-placed touch.
Ridiculous, yes.
But also?
Kind of incredible.
Because I walked in that day thinking I might regret this.
And I walked out knowing I never would.
User Comments:
Maja: "Tense but internally screaming" is such an accurate first-time TickleFit experience description. Also, EXCUSE ME, "proud but slightly amused goth mom"??? How dare you. But also, yeah.
xXx: I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS POST. YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE IN CONTROL?? Oh, Tenderfoot, sweet summer child. This was so good.
Lurker: "She thought she had control, but control was never an option." This is cinema. This is art.
Shining_armors: Lo! The maiden hath fallen! Her fortress of composure lay in ruins, her laughter echoing through the halls of fate! Verily, her transformation is nigh!
Mean_girl: Tenderfoot finally getting it in real-time??? Incredible. Maja, you’ve created a monster.
Good_ole_days: You didn’t just lose control. You found something in it, too. And that? That’s kind of beautiful.
Tenderfoot’s Response:
Maja:
Okay, but how did you not see this coming?
Like, logically, you had to know you were doomed, right?
(Also, I stand by my assessment—you were absolutely giving goth mom watches over her chaotic emo child energy.)
xXx:
Okay, okay, I GET IT.
Apparently, everyone but me knew I was going to fail spectacularly at staying in control.
(But also? Yeah. You were right.)
Lurker:
Oh my god. That makes it sound so dramatic.
But… okay. Yeah. Fine.
I did think I had control.
And control was, in fact, never an option.
Shining_armors:
Oh, here we go again.
Sir Shining, beloved knight of the dramatic monologue, I am not a fallen maiden.
I was ambushed by biology, thank you very much.
Mean_girl:
I refuse to confirm or deny whether Maja has created a monster.
(But also? Yeah. She probably has.)
Good_ole_days:
You saying that makes me realize it’s actually true.
I thought I was losing something.
But maybe I was finding something instead.
(Damn it, am I getting sentimental? Someone stop me.)
So, uh… I may have made a tiny, insignificant, completely irreversible mistake.
Let’s set the scene:
I was riding the high of finally getting it.
I had just walked out of a session where I didn’t overthink, where I actually let go, where I finally felt like I belonged here.
And then?
I did the dumbest thing possible.
I started talking.
To Marta.
See, I wasn’t even thinking about it. I was just… excited. And Marta? She’s got this way of making you feel like you can just say things, like she already knows what you’re about to tell her anyway, so why not just admit it?
So I did.
I told her everything.
About how Maja was the one who got me here.
About how she was the only reason I walked through the door.
About how she helped me when I wasn’t sure if I belonged, how she guided me through every hesitation, every doubt.
And then—THEN—I threw in the kicker:
"I don’t think I would have gotten through my first session if she hadn’t been there."
And Marta just… smiled.
Not the warm, aww, that’s so nice kind of smile.
The I have just gathered new and important information and will now be using it accordingly kind of smile.
I knew, instantly, that I had said too much.
And Maja?
Oh, she’s going to kill me.
User Comments:
Maja: Tenderfoot. TENDERFOOT. WHAT. DID. YOU. DO.
xXx: OH NO. OH NO NO NO. YOU HANDED MARTA THE FINAL PIECE OF THE PUZZLE. DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE???
Margo: I can’t even be mad. This is so in character for you. You were just excited. And now?? NOW WE ALL SUFFER.
Shining_armors: Lo! The maiden, in her boundless joy, hath unwittingly opened the gates of fate! And now, she must bear the weight of her confession!
Mean_girl: Marta was already watching Maja. And now? Now she has CONFIRMATION that she’s a secret TickleFit mastermind. Tenderfoot, you’ve doomed us all.
Good_ole_days: I knew this was coming. I felt it in my soul. And yet, I was still not ready. Tenderfoot, sweetie, you’re about to learn a lesson.
Tenderfoot’s Response:
Maja:
OKAY, OKAY, OKAY, BUT LISTEN.
I DIDN’T MEAN TO.
IT JUST HAPPENED.
(Also, Maja, you’re making it sound like I handed her the nuclear codes, when all I did was accidentally confirm your entire secret influence over my journey—WAIT. OKAY. MAYBE I SEE THE PROBLEM NOW.)
xXx:
I AM BEGGING YOU TO STOP YELLING AT ME.
I AM ALREADY YELLING AT MYSELF.
Margo:
Yeah. Yeah, I know.
I was so excited, and now I have accidentally ruined everything.
This is my villain origin story.
Shining_armors:
Oh, here we go again.
Sir Shining, beloved knight of the dramatic monologue, I did not unleash some fate-sealing prophecy.
I just… handed Marta all the leverage she ever needed.
Which, now that I say it out loud, does sound bad.
Mean_girl:
Okay, but hear me out—maybe this is a good thing?
(Maja, please don’t hurt me, I’m trying to be optimistic.)
Good_ole_days:
Yeah.
Yeah, I feel it now.
This is the exact moment where I realize I have made a terrible, terrible mistake.
I woke up today thinking it was just another day. A normal, totally fine, not life-altering day.
And then—THEN—I walk into TickleFit and realize that, somewhere between her existential unraveling and her newfound enthusiasm, Tenderfoot has RUINED ME.
Because Marta?
Marta knows everything now.
I don’t even have to ask what happened. The second she looked at me—that smile, that calm, I-have-you-now smile—I knew.
I knew that Tenderfoot had talked.
I knew that Marta now had confirmation of everything I was trying to downplay.
And I knew, in my soul, that my life was about to change.
So naturally, I did the only reasonable thing:
I cornered Tenderfoot after the session.
“What. Did. You. DO?”
And this girl—THIS GIRL—had the audacity to look guilty but also a little pleased with herself.
“Okay. So. Funny story…”
Not funny. Not funny at all.
She told me everything. The casual conversation. The accidental overshare. The way Marta lit up like she had just solved the final piece of an ancient puzzle.
And now?
Now, I’m doomed.
I don’t know what Marta is planning.
I don’t know when it’s coming.
All I know is that she’s waiting for the right moment to make her move.
And Tenderfoot?
Oh, she’s going to pay for this.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: OKAY, OKAY, OKAY BUT LISTEN. I DIDN’T MEAN TO. IT JUST HAPPENED. (Also, Maja, you’re making it sound like I handed her the nuclear codes, when all I did was accidentally confirm your entire secret influence over my journey—WAIT. OKAY. MAYBE I SEE THE PROBLEM NOW.)
xXx: THIS. IS. EVERYTHING. I AM LIVING FOR THIS DRAMA. Maja, you trained a chaos gremlin and now the chaos gremlin has unleashed hell upon you.
Margo: I knew Tenderfoot would let something slip eventually, but this?? This is deliciously catastrophic. Maja, you are so screwed.
Shining_armors: Alas! The apprentice hath unwittingly sealed her master’s fate! And now, the prophecy unfolds! Verily, a reckoning doth await!
Mean_girl: OH, MAJA. OH, MAJA. This is what we call poetic justice.
Maja’s Response:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, you didn’t mean to?
That’s so funny because neither did I.
(Just kidding. I fully mean whatever comes next. 😈)
xXx:
No, because you’re actually right.
I created this chaos gremlin. And now? Now I must destroy it.
Margo:
This is beyond just screwed.
This is Marta has been waiting for this moment since day one, and now she has exactly what she needs.
And I have exactly one target for my revenge.
Shining_armors:
Oh, here we go again.
Sir Shining, beloved knight of the dramatic monologue, I know you think this is some fate-sealing prophecy moment, but let’s be clear:
The only reckoning unfolding here is mine.
Mean_girl:
Poetic justice???
Oh, we’re about to get real poetic.
Starting with Tenderfoot’s suffering.
(…In the most loving, friendly way possible, obviously. 😇)
I knew it.
The second I saw Marta waiting for me after the session—standing there with that calm, patient, I-have-you-now smile—I knew I had officially lost the game.
And yet, when she spoke?
It was worse than I imagined.
“Maja,” she said, too gently. “I think it’s time for you to experience this from a new perspective.”
I stared at her.
“We’ve already done that.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not like this.”
And that’s when I knew—I wasn’t just stepping in, wasn’t just dabbling in the experience anymore.
Marta wanted me to fully take on this role.
Not as a full-fledged instructor. But not as a participant.
As someone who truly understands what it means to guide, to push, to shape an experience—not just react to it.
And for a second, I actually thought about saying no.
But then I thought about everything I’ve already done. About the way I felt when I first stepped into this, when I stopped resisting and just let it happen.
I thought about Tenderfoot—how I watched her grow, how I saw in real time what this experience was doing for her.
I thought about Kasia and Paulina, about the kind of trust that made this more than just tickling.
And, worst of all, I thought about the fact that Marta wasn’t even asking me to say yes.
She already knew.
So, naturally, I did the only reasonable thing.
I sighed. Rolled my eyes.
And said,
“Fine.”
And Marta?
She beamed.
Because she had already won.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: MAJA, I—I CAN’T. I ACTUALLY CAN’T. YOU SAID FINE??? JUST FINE??? I THOUGHT THERE WOULD BE MORE FIGHTING. MORE DRAMATIC RESISTANCE. BUT NO. YOU JUST ACCEPTED YOUR FATE. I NEED TO LIE DOWN.
xXx: MARTA HAS BEEN PLAYING 4D CHESS THIS WHOLE TIME AND YOU JUST LET HER CHECKMATE YOU. I AM IN TEARS.
Margo: I think this might be my favorite moment in this whole blog. The way you knew you were doomed and still stepped forward anyway? That’s growth, Maja. And you feel it, don’t you?
Mean_girl: *OH. MY. GOD. The casual way you just agreed to your own fate is sending me. You didn’t even fight back this time. Maja, you’re not just in this. You’re part of it now. *
Shining_armors: Lo, the prophecy is fulfilled! The warrior, once hesitant, hath now donned the mantle of her fate! Rejoice! For the next chapter begins!
Good_ole_days: I love this moment because it wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. It was just you, stepping forward because you wanted to. And that? That’s everything.
Maja’s Response:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, you thought I was going to fight back?
You thought there would be one last stand?
Tenderfoot. Sweetie.
I’ve been fighting this since day one.
Maybe it was just time to stop pretending I wasn’t already here.
xXx:
I—okay.
You’re right.
She had me in check like… ten moves ago.
I just didn’t realize it until I was already cornered.
Margo:
Yeah.
Yeah, I feel it.
And I don’t know if I’m ready for what comes next,
but I think I’m done pretending I don’t want to find out.
Mean_girl:
Oh, don’t act so shocked.
At some point, you just stop running.
And here we are.
Shining_armors:
You know what?
This time, I won’t argue with you.
Because whatever’s coming?
I think I’m ready.
(Probably.)
I thought Marta, in all her mysterious guru wisdom, would give me a soft introduction—some minor role, a test run, a way to slowly let me get used to this.
But Marta?
Marta doesn’t do “easing in.”
So instead of a gentle start, I got this:
“Go ahead, Maja.”
I blinked. “…Go ahead and what?”
And then it hit me.
She wasn’t going to tell me what to do.
She was just… giving me the moment. Handing it over like I was supposed to just know what to do with it.
And the worst part?
I did.
I don’t know how to explain it.
One second, I was standing there, waiting for instruction, waiting for someone to guide me—and the next?
I just… did it.
And the second it started, I felt everything click into place.
It wasn’t about power. It wasn’t about control.
It was about trust. About connection. About knowing exactly how to make someone fall apart in the best possible way.
And for the first time, I understood why Marta had been waiting for this moment.
Because this?
This felt right.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: MAJA. OH MY GOD. I—I CAN’T. YOU JUST DID IT??? NO OVERTHINKING? NO PANIC? JUST—FULL SEND??? I AM ASCENDING.
xXx: So we’re just fully committing to the goth-turned-TickleFit-existentialist pipeline now? No hesitation? No fear? Just embracing the madness? I respect it.
Margo: This wasn’t just a shift. This was a moment. A huge one. And the way you described it? It’s like it had always been in you, just waiting to happen.
Mean_girl: I AM SHAKING. MAJA, YOU ARE ACTUALLY IN YOUR FINAL FORM. MARTA HAS BEEN TRAINING YOU FOR THIS SINCE DAY ONE.
Shining_armors: Lo, the warrior hath cast aside her doubts and stepped into her destiny! Rejoice, for the cycle is complete!
Maja’s Response:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, you thought I was going to overthink it?
That’s so cute.
No, because apparently, once I actually stepped into this role, my brain just shut off and let instinct take over.
Terrifying.
But also? Kinda great.
xXx:
Okay, but when you put it like that, it does sound like I’ve fully gone off the deep end into existential TickleFit enlightenment.
…Yeah. I’m fine with that.
Margo:
I don’t know if I’m ready to call this a moment.
But yeah.
It did feel like something that was always there, just waiting.
Mean_girl:
STOP.
I REFUSE to believe Marta planned this from the very beginning.
(…But also? Yeah. She probably did.)
Shining_armors:
Oh, for the love of—
Fine. You win this round, knight.
The cycle is complete.
I mean, Marta guides this experience. She shapes it. She’s the one who always knows what’s happening, always in control, always watching with that calm, patient, I-see-the-ending-before-you-do expression.
But today?
Today, Marta was the one on the table.
She didn’t make a big deal out of it. No grand speech, no dramatic setup. She just looked at me—after letting me step fully into this role, after watching me experience the other side of TickleFit in a way I never had before—and said,
“Now it’s your turn.”
And suddenly, I wasn’t just stepping into a new experience—I was leading it.
I don’t think I fully understood the weight of what was happening until I saw her reactions.
The way her body instinctively fought it.
The way she laughed just as freely as anyone else.
The way all her careful control crumbled just as easily as mine once had.
And for the first time, I got it.
I got why she had waited. I got why she had been watching me all this time, letting me inch toward this moment at my own pace.
Because now I know exactly what this experience feels like—from every angle.
And there’s no more wondering what’s left to understand.
Now?
Now I know it all.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: MAJA. YOU. DID. NOT. JUST. TICKLE. MARTA. YOU DID NOT. YOU DID NOT. YOU DID NOTTTTT.
xXx: YOU BROKE THE MATRIX. YOU FLIPPED THE SCRIPT. YOU WALKED INTO THE TEMPLE AND BEAT THE MONK AT THEIR OWN GAME. I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE SHOCKED IN MY LIFE.
Margo: Maja. I am literally speechless. You didn’t just step forward—you took control in a way NO ONE expected. And Marta LET YOU.
Mean_girl: THIS WAS NOT ON MY BINGO CARD. I THOUGHT MAYBE YOU’D GET MORE INVOLVED, MAYBE YOU’D EMBRACE YOUR ROLE—BUT YOU TURNED THE TABLES ON MARTA?? MAJA.
Shining_armors: Verily, the balance hath been restored! The master hath tasted the fate she once guided! And lo, the cycle continueth!
Maja’s Response:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, I did.
And I regret nothing.
xXx:
The monk vs. student analogy is killing me.
But also? Yeah.
I won the duel.
(…Or did I?)
Margo:
I don’t know if I would call this control.
It was something else. Something bigger.
And yeah. Marta let it happen.
Which means everything.
Mean_girl:
Neither of us had this on our bingo cards.
And yet, here we are.
Shining_armors:
Oh, for the love of—
You know what? Fine.
The cycle continueth.
And somehow?
I think I’m okay with that.
I’d like to say that, after everything, I chose grace. That I took the high road, forgave Tenderfoot for accidentally selling my soul to Marta, and moved on like an enlightened being.
But no.
Because the second I got new permissions, the second I realized I could do something about it, something in me snapped.
And that’s how Tenderfoot found herself strapped to the table, looking up at me with pure, wide-eyed regret.
“Maja,” she said, her voice already trembling with the sheer realization of what was about to happen. “Listen. We can talk about this.”
Oh, sweet summer child.
I smiled. Slowly. “Oh, I am listening.”
She swallowed. “Maja, we were friends. Were. Past tense. I liked you.”
“And I liked having a choice in my TickleFit journey, but you took that from me.” I crouched beside her, enjoying the moment. “So I’m simply returning the favor.”
Her entire body tensed. “Maja, please. I’m sorry. I swear I’m sorry.”
I leaned in. “Oh, I know you are. But I want you to prove it.”
And then?
Then I reached into my bag.
And pulled out the bracelet.
Her eyes went feral. “OH. NO. NO, YOU DID NOT—NOPE, NOPE, I AM OUT. I AM OUT.”
But she wasn’t out.
She was in. And deeply, deeply regretting every life choice that led her here.
Because, dear reader, this wasn’t just any bracelet.
This was my bracelet.
The one I’ve had for years—a black leather cuff, lined with silver studs, a relic from my punk past, the kind of thing I’d throw on with combat boots when I wanted to look untouchable.
And as it turns out?
Studded leather bracelets?
They tickle like hell when you drag them along the sole of someone’s foot.
Tenderfoot screamed.
And me?
Oh, I had so much fun.
User Comments:
xXx: SHE PULLED OUT THE BRACELET. THE SPIKED BRACELET. TENDERFOOT, BABY, YOU NEVER HAD A CHANCE.
Margo: I FELT THIS POST. I HEARD THE VILLAIN MUSIC IN MY HEAD AS I READ IT. THIS WAS PERFECT. THE BUILDUP. THE PAYBACK. THE WAY MAJA KNEW EXACTLY WHAT SHE WAS DOING. I’M IN AWE.
Mean_girl: TENDERFOOT HAS FALLEN. THE CHAOS GREMLIN IS NO MORE. LONG LIVE MAJA.
Shining_armors: Lo, justice hath been served! The maiden, once free, now lieth in chains of her own making! Rejoice, for balance is restored!
Good_ole_days: This wasn’t revenge. This was poetic justice. And Maja? You enjoyed it, didn’t you? Oh, I love this.
Maja’s Response:
xXx:
Listen, she deserved it.
And also?
It was deeply, deeply satisfying.
Margo:
Oh, I’m so glad you heard villain music.
Because I was absolutely hearing it too.
(And it was glorious.)
Mean_girl:
You say fallen, I say reformed through righteous suffering.
Either way, Tenderfoot has learned.
Shining_armors:
Oh, for the love of—
Fine.
Balance is restored.
(For now.)
Good_ole_days:
Poetic justice?
Oh, absolutely.
And did I enjoy it?
…Maybe.
(Okay, yes. A lot.)
Maja’s Perspective
I’ll be honest—I didn’t hold back. Not even a little.
Tenderfoot had it coming, and when I finally got my revenge, I made sure it counted. Every squirm, every breathless giggle, every wide-eyed plea—it fueled me. The second I had her strapped down, my only thought was: You started this. And, oh, how I finished it.
But the moment I let up, something unexpected happened.
There she was—exhausted, sprawled on the table, breathless and shaking. But instead of glaring at me, she smiled. Like I had done her some kind of favor. Like I had just carried out the world’s most aggressive friendship ritual. And just like that, my grudge against her melted away. The only thing left was curiosity—what did this girl look like when she was truly at her weakest, back in her old emo days? Because right now, even after all of that, she was still here.
I barely had time to dwell on it before the instructors rolled in a second table, positioning it right beside us. A chill went through me. This wasn’t over.
Marta stepped forward, hands clasped, eyes twinkling with something far too smug for my comfort.
“It’s time,” she announced. “You will now step in for each other.”
Wait. What?
The Rules
And yet, she was my only way out.
I turned to look at her, still barely catching her breath, her body limp from what I had just put her through.
She should be lying in bed with noise-canceling headphones, listening to whatever tracks from my aftercare playlist she managed to steal. Not here. Not about to get thrown into another battle.
I swallowed hard.
I had no choice. I had to go it alone.
The Fight
They started with my feet, and I thought I could handle it. Thought I could power through.
I was wrong.
My body jerked and twisted, laughter pouring out of me whether I wanted it to or not. I bit my lip, shook my head, clenched my fists—anything to hold on. Anything to stop myself from breaking too soon. Because Tenderfoot?
She deserved a break. I owed her that much.
But as the minutes stretched into eternity, my strength waned. And then, just when I thought I could take no more, they brought out my own damn bracelet. The one I had used against her. The studded leather scraped against my soles, and it was too much. My mind fractured, my will shattered.
“I GIVE UP!” I screamed. “I—”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! TAKE ME!!!”
The words ripped through the air like a war cry.
Tenderfoot.
Her voice hit me like a crashing drumbeat—raw, primal, louder than any scream in any genre I had ever loved.
And in that moment, as the weight of exhaustion and surrender loomed over me, I realized something—I had been too harsh on her before. Maybe I had pushed too far. And yet, despite everything, here she was, giving me the out I couldn’t take for myself.
Tenderfoot’s Perspective
I am so mad at past me.
Past me, who thought she was cute for calling this “the loop closing.” Past me, who spilled way too much to Marta. Past me, who did not, under any circumstances, prepare for this moment.
BECAUSE NOW THE LOOP IS CLOSING AROUND MY NECK LIKE A NOOSE.
I knew something was off when Marta gathered us together, but when she actually said it out loud?
“You’re going to have the exact session Kasia and Paulina had.”
I felt my soul leave my body.
Because we all watched that session. We all saw what it meant. And now?
Now, it’s us.
Maja was barely holding on, and I knew she wouldn’t last much longer. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to stay still, to let her take it. She deserved this. I was still gasping for air, still trying to recover from the absolute nightmare she had put me through.
And yet.
The second I saw her about to break, I knew.
If I let her surrender, it wouldn’t feel right. Not for me, not for her. Not after everything.
So, I forced myself up. Ignored the exhaustion. Ignored the burning in my lungs, the shaking in my limbs. And just as she opened her mouth to scream for mercy—
I beat her to it.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! TAKE ME!!!”
The moment the words left my lips, I collapsed back against the table, bracing for impact. I barely processed Maja’s reaction—the shock, the brief flicker of awe—before I was laughing again, before the tickling swallowed me whole.
And so it began.
Again and again, we stepped in for one another.
The Aftermath
Maja’s Perspective
I lay there, my body too drained to move, my breath coming in ragged bursts. Then, something shifted. A hand—warm, firm—slid into mine.
Tenderfoot.
I turned my head, meeting her exhausted gaze. And in that moment, I knew—I wasn’t alone in this. I had pushed her to her limit, but she had chosen to push back for me. We had fought for each other. And magically, something I had migrated to her… And maybe, just maybe, that meant something.
Tenderfoot’s Perspective
I had nothing left. My limbs ached, my lungs burned, but I felt lighter than I had in ages. When Maja’s fingers curled around mine, a strange calm settled over me.
I had redeemed myself. And then some.
The loop hadn’t closed around my neck like a noose.
It had tied us together instead.
And as I felt something cool and familiar around my wrist, I looked down.
Maja’s bracelet. Somehow, during all of it, it had ended up on me.
I turned to her, speechless, but she just smirked. “Looks better on you anyway.”
Maybe it did.
Comment Section:
Tenderfoot: I have no words. None. Except maybe, MAJA, WHAT HAVE WE DONE??
Margo: The way you two took turns saving each other? This was incredible. And Maja finally realizing she has what she wished for? Perfection.
Mean_girl: This wasn’t just a challenge. This was a story. A ridiculous, chaotic, beautiful story. And you both nailed it.
Shining_armors: Lo! The noble warrior Maja is now bound in trials most dire! Who shall—" (pauses) "—uh, no, I mean, the prophecy unfolds! The saga completes!”
xXx: "Nice save, knight boy. You almost embarrassed yourself again. But yeah… The loop has officially closed. The prophecy is fulfilled. I am screaming!
Good_ole_days: I was here for the tickling, but I stayed for the friendship. And now I’m crying. Damn it, Maja.
M_K_P: And just like that, what we always suspected has been proven… these two „skeptical” bloggers are the best ambassadors this club has ever had! Enjoy the bracelet, Tenderfoot, hopefully we didn’t strap it too tight…
I haven't written in ages - I've been on a writer's block since 2011... But AI unfroze me!
This is a blog-styled story that I spun-off from another AI-generated project of mine. That project was a series of interviews with the creator of TickleFit - a quirky wellness concept - and its "regular" participants. They were OK-ish. But then, I fed those interviews back to ChatGPT and had it look at the concept from the perspective of quite a mismatched participant.
I sank in it. And fell in love with nostalgic characters - some my own, through which I interacted with the story, some that GPT created itself. If I don't publish this now - I will keep polishing it forever. So I am publishing as is to stop myself.
I hope it's likeable. When reading, please ignore references to "the interviews". They are not quite publishable yet - but you'll get the idea of what they're about. And don't overthink the pronounciation of the names - the original interviews were in another language and I stuck with their original versions.
#1: "Tickling My Inner Punk: A Skeptic’s Guide to TickleFit"
So, here’s the thing. I always imagined myself sticking it to the man, sipping whiskey at underground shows, getting lost in a haze of eyeliner and leather, and absolutely not, ever, in a million years, getting tied down to a table in front of some strangers who would then proceed to tickle me to tears. Cue eye roll.But here I am—well, here I was, before the latest TickleFit session—trapped in a corporate job, fighting my way through Excel sheets like a sleep-deprived zombie, missing my old punk days when I was free to scream at the system, not help it thrive. And yet, what do I find myself doing? Going barefoot, strapped to a table while some really enthusiastic woman (let’s call her "Ania") pretends my stifled giggles are some deep, emotional breakthrough.
I can’t lie, my initial thoughts were classic: Are you kidding me? I could already picture my goth self—pale, dark-haired, and wearing too many studded bracelets—scoffing at the idea of any sort of wellness trend. I was punk. The kind of punk that rolled my eyes at mainstream anything. The whole world could go on a “journey of self-discovery” through yoga, meditation, or whatever the next trending thing was, but I was the one who actually didn't care about anything and definitely didn’t need to find my soul through foot massages. Not my thing, thank you.
But here’s the catch: as it turns out, being stuck in a corporate job and worrying about bills and... well, bills, takes a toll on you. I don't know when it happened, but somewhere between dodging my boss’s emails and pretending I cared about "team bonding," I lost touch with that girl who used to dive into every chaotic moment with reckless abandon. Yeah, I'm still rocking the punky aesthetic—obviously, goth/punk will never die. It’s just… buried under a pile of corporate suits and mid-afternoon coffee runs.
Anyway, back to TickleFit. It’s exactly as weird as it sounds. I was supposed to be too cool for it, right? The kind of girl who'd roll her eyes at everyone else. But I think I was just… jealous. Maybe I was a little curious about how this whole laughing-for-freedom thing worked. Could tickling really take you to some profound self-revelation? Or would I just get a good laugh and another blog post to write about how much of a joke it all was?
So, I did it. I went.
First Impressions?
If you’ve never been strapped to a table, surrounded by women in various stages of barely-controlled excitement (and some with seriously unamused faces), you might not understand the vibe. The air is filled with that faint smell of essential oils, nervous laughter, and possibly some panic. You know, the kind of panic you get when you're about to lose control and, for once in your life, not care if you have your guard up.
They strap you in (which, let's face it, feels like some dystopian movie), and then, of course, the tickling begins. And I’m talking full-on, everywhere tickling. The worst part? It’s not even that it tickles so much—it’s that it works.
Your body involuntarily spasms in a fit of laughter. And for a moment, you just feel... free. What is this sorcery? I thought I hated it, but there I was, laughing harder than I had in ages—like the grumpy, I’m-too-cool-for-this goth who pretended everything was absurd, but secretly was a bit… miserable.
Rebellion, But Make It Self-Care
I’ll be honest, I’m still not convinced that tickling is some spiritual awakening (seriously, what’s with the whole “your feet are talking to us” bit? No, my feet aren’t speaking in some ancient language of wisdom; they’re just... getting tickled). But there's something about it that unsettles the constant need to be in control. And control is something I’ve always struggled with, given my whole punks don't follow rules persona.
When you’re strapped down (in a safe, totally consensual way, of course), you literally can’t control your reactions. And here’s the kicker: it’s incredibly hard to hate something that makes you laugh uncontrollably, even if it goes against every cynical part of you that prides itself on being above all this "wellness" nonsense. The old me would’ve called it weakness. The new me? I’m not so sure anymore.
TickleFit teaches you something strange: it’s okay to let go. No one’s judging you. In fact, they want you to laugh harder, scream louder, and make the most ridiculous face you've ever made in your life—because this is safe space wellness, not some Instagram influencer's journey to "enlightenment." It’s messy, it’s laughable, and maybe that’s just what I need in my life.
How It Affects Me Now
For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been struggling with this tug-of-war between my punk roots and my new adult life—filled with meetings, coffee breaks, and trying to hold it together in front of my colleagues. But the more I go to these sessions, the more I realize something important: I can still be rebellious. I can still be my punk self.
It doesn’t need to be about loud music, rebellious clothes, or flipping tables (though, don’t get me wrong, I still plan on doing that at least once in my life). It’s about carving out a space where I don’t have to be anything. I don’t have to be in control of everything, I don’t have to be tough all the time. I can just be... here. Laughing. Experiencing something for the first time. And, who knows? Maybe that’s the biggest act of rebellion of all.
As for my old self—the goth-punk chick who could’ve mocked anything and everything that wasn’t the "revolution"—well, she’s still in there. But maybe—just maybe—she's also laughing her ass off. Maybe she’s the sanest one in the room now. After all, who else but the punk girl who’s seen it all could appreciate just how wild and freeing it is to laugh yourself stupid without worrying about the world or what others think?
I may have gotten a bit sentimental in this post, but let's face it: who better to see through the corporate bullshit than the girl who spent her youth flipping it off? Who better to get tickled into submission and emerge from it feeling like a rebellious queen than me? Yeah, I’m probably the coolest of all the women you knew. Keep telling yourselves that, though.
And for the record, yes—my feet may have "spoken," but they’re still just as punk as I am.
User Comments:
Good_ole_days: Whaaat? A goth/punk. Barefooted. Held against her will. And it’s not in some wicked underground theater display. You’re about to crush all my youth crushes. You just… decompose them. I hope you’re happy with that!
Mean_girl: I still have chills from reading this. And I will read over and over again. I imagine you rise from this table as a goddess! Sorry for ever bullying the likes of you…
Desdemona: To me it makes perfect sense… you’re at home at a dungeon. Just wondering why it feels so beige. But you will paint it black, won’t you?
Maja’s Responses:
Good_ole_days: Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I wasn’t really crushed—just temporarily unshackled from the chains of corporate monotony. But you know what? If this ruins your youth crushes, then mission accomplished.
Mean_girl: Look at that! A confession from one of my high school tormentors. I guess we’re all just walking around, waiting for our redemption arc, huh?
Desdemona: Ouch, “beige”?! Did you just call TickleFit a dungeon? I’m not sure if that’s an insult or some weird gothic poetry. But don’t worry, I’ll definitely paint it black—or at least deep purple—before it’s all said and done.
#2: "First Session: Strapped In and Loving It (But Not Admitting)"
Okay, let's be honest. I was ready to bail the moment I stepped into that space. The "TickleFit" sign on the door felt like the punchline to a joke I hadn't been let in on yet. Who even came up with this nonsense? "Tickling for fitness?" Yeah, sure. How much could I possibly really learn by letting some strangers tickle me senseless while I'm strapped to a table? It's not like I’m going to suddenly break free from the corporate grind and become some enlightened yoga goddess, right?
Wrong. (Sort of.)
They call it "TickleFit" for a reason. And that reason is simple: it’s... way more than tickling. Yeah, there’s tickling. But there’s also this moment, this strange surrender where you're not just laughing your face off, but also letting go of whatever control you thought you had. And it’s not just the physical restraint that throws you off—it’s the emotional part, too. You’re supposed to be vulnerable, let your body react however it wants to, without worrying about looking cool. And let me tell you, looking cool is about the last thing on my mind when I’m in a puddle of giggles, fighting to stay on the table.
Step One: Say Goodbye to Your Dignity (And Your Socks)
The first thing they do is ask you to take off your shoes and socks. No big deal, right? Wrong. You feel exposed—barefoot, like, what even is the symbolism there? But it’s all part of the process. And then they strap you down, and that’s where the weirdness really begins. You're immobile, completely at the mercy of their hands, and for a minute, you think, This is ridiculous. I’m out of here.
And then it starts.
The first touch. A few seconds of hesitation. I brace myself for the tickle attack, ready to be the punk that doesn’t laugh.
But guess what? I do.
It’s uncontrollable, and it’s actually good. It’s good in that way you secretly like when something you’re supposed to hate turns out to be fun. Like getting your hair done at a salon when you usually refuse to be pampered.
So here I am, strapped in, laughing like an idiot, secretly loving it. I could hate it, but something about it is just too... freeing. Yeah, it’s weird. But weird might be exactly what I need right now.
But don’t worry. I’m still me. I’m not buying into some “I found my true self” nonsense. I’m just here for the experience.
And maybe I’ll be back. Maybe not.
Let’s see how next week goes.
User Comments:
Margo: Fun fact: I read the interview with that TickleFit guru a few weeks ago. Thrilled by the concept, totally hated the way she talked about it. She should give you a lifetime pass to that club—you’re so much better an ambassador of TickleFit than her!
Lena_91: Read it too—same thoughts on it. But right until the last paragraph of your post I thought we were about to lose "our" Maja. DON’T let them change you, I beg of thee!
xXx: How come your blog is not trending on Pornhub by now 😛?! Asking for a friend…
Good_ole_days: I googled the interview. That Marta lady has no clue what she’s talking about. "We lay down barefoot like the serious women we are… and we jump off it clapping our bare feet like girls we used to be." If that were to be any true, Maja-girl would be thundering with her heavy boots!
Maja’s Responses:
Margo: A lifetime pass? You really think I’d be an ambassador for something so—let’s face it—oddly calming? Haha, okay, maybe I’m being a little hypocritical, but fine. I’ll take the pass, if I get to add a little punk rebellion to the experience. Seriously though, Marta might be a guru in some sense, but I think I’ve nailed the “no-nonsense, let’s-not-make-this-too-mystical” angle. Plus, I’m here for the laughs and the vulnerability, not the philosophical speeches.
Lena_91: Oh, no worries, Lena. The old me is still lurking in there somewhere, especially when I’m cackling like a lunatic. But I get it, trust me. Letting go of control? Definitely not my favorite thing to do either. I’ll stay true to myself, but who says I can’t add a little bit of unexpected fun to the mix? You know, let my rebellious streak have a moment without it turning into some soul-searching disaster.
xXx: Asking for a friend—sure, sure. 😂 Honestly, if this whole TickleFit thing ever gets turned into some kind of inappropriate genre, I’ll have to change my name to something less… punk. Like, Maja the Giggle Mistress or something. But hey, if you’re into that kind of thing, maybe you should just ask Marta for a more “sensual” take. I bet she’d spin it into some kind of spiritual awakening.
Good_ole_days: Ha! You know, I would thunder away in my boots, but honestly, I’m so beyond all the clapping-your-feet-like-a-giddy-girl talk. I mean, come on, do I really need to embrace that “girlhood” ideal just because I’m barefoot for a few minutes? Give me my boots, my punk anarchy, and maybe a hint of cathartic laughter, and I’ll still be the Maja you know. Barefoot and fierce.
Follow-Up Comments:
Secret_crush: Barefoot and fierce… I love this one! Could be a motto of some lady-warrior’s order 😀
Lena_91: As a side note, I admire that you were able to just kick off your shoes there… To me, it’s still way too intimate, and I am simply shy about my feet. Back in the days, those boots gave me protection but also tears and callouses…
Mean_girl: Lena_91—hate to break this to you: so do high heels. Don’t be shy. Am I redeeming myself, goddess Maja?
Maja’s Follow-Up Responses:
Secret_crush: Barefoot and fierce—I like the sound of that. Maybe I’ll get it printed on a T-shirt and wear it to the next session. It’s a good motto, though. A little badassery, a little vulnerability. Perfect for my warrior vibes. Who says you can’t feel both tough and, um, slightly ticklish at the same time?
Lena_91: Lena, I get you. There’s something so raw about being barefoot and exposed. It’s funny how something as simple as that can feel intimate or even vulnerable. My boots were like my armor too. The weight of them grounded me, hid my feet, kept the world at arm’s length. It’s hard to let go of that shield, but who knows? Maybe with enough laughter, I’ll start to appreciate the bare feet more. One step at a time, right?
Mean_girl: Oh, so true… High heels do so much damage… at both ends of the body 😉. But hey, it’s not about the footwear—it’s about what’s beneath. And as for redeeming yourself, I guess I’ll allow it. 😂 Let’s call it a mutual redemption arc. Who knew we’d all be here bonding over feet, right? If I’m a goddess now, I’m definitely wearing boots to the next session.
#3: "The Real Meaning of Control: Tying Myself Down"
Okay, I’m back. And no, I didn’t totally lose my punk soul in the process. Not yet, anyway.So, I went back. After my last laughing-my-face-off-while-trying-to-stay-cool session, I thought, Why not? Maybe it wasn’t as horrific as I imagined. Maybe I was even a little bit curious about what happens when you let go. I mean, if you’re going to let yourself get tickled, you might as well go all in, right?
This time, though, there was something… different.
They strapped me in, like before. Hands, feet, and yes, that lovely feeling of being immobile. But here’s where it gets tricky. Last time, I was too busy trying to control my reactions (pun intended), fighting to stay cool, to really notice the deeper weirdness of it all.
But today, for some reason, I was oddly okay with it.
There’s something about giving up control that’s… liberating. And trust me, this punk chick does not like the idea of surrendering. Ever. But there I was, lying there with my arms strapped, legs completely out of the equation, and honestly?
I kind of felt... safe.
I couldn’t move, and yeah, that freaked me out at first. But there’s this strange trust that builds up. Maybe it's the safe words, or maybe it’s just the sheer absurdity of the whole thing. But the more I let go, the more I realized I didn’t have to fight. I didn’t have to control. I didn’t have to be the tough one.
And it was surprisingly refreshing.
It’s not like I didn’t feel vulnerable—hell, I was literally strapped down like a ragdoll. But instead of it being scary, I realized that control, the one thing I thought I had to have at all costs, was more of a prison than a superpower.
This whole "let's get tickled until we scream" thing? It was helping me see that maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to not always be the boss of everything.
I still don’t get why the whole barefoot thing is part of the deal. It’s like they want you to feel more exposed, more... I don't know, raw. Whatever. I’m punk, and I’ll always find a way to put my spin on it.
But for now?
It’s funny how the more they strap me down, the more I realize I’m the one actually breaking free.
Anyway, I survived—no surprise there. But I’ll admit, it was easier this time. I laughed, I twitched, I maybe even giggle-screamed (ugh). But guess what? I didn’t die from it. And I didn’t feel like I was losing myself in the process.
Maybe there’s something to this whole surrendering control thing after all.
But don’t get it twisted—this doesn’t mean I’m suddenly going to turn into some wellness guru who talks about healing through tickles.
Still, maybe I’ve learned something. Or maybe I’m just learning how to laugh at myself.
Or maybe I’m just getting used to feeling a little vulnerable without having to punch someone afterward.
Baby steps, right?
User Comments:
Mean_girl: OK, I feel redeemed enough to finally say something mean. Someone once told me that if I needed to say I am a lady, then I am not one. Don’t get me wrong, I still find your "I am a punk" claims more reassuring than Marta’s "I am your savior"… but I actually trust it less and less each time you write that!
Bubbles: I’d jump into this TickleFit stuff headfirst… but there’s more stuff that holds me back than just showing my feet (which I could probably pamper). Why the hell must they always lie on their backs? I am okay to be restrained, but that position feels so weird… like a deadly injection setup in the movies. I’d sooner go in a dungeon than on that sterile beige table…
Maja’s Responses:
Mean_girl: Oof, now you’re hitting me with the hard truths, huh? Look, I get it. We all have our “I’m not like other girls” defense mechanism, and mine has always been the punk thing. It’s a shield, sure, but it’s also a part of me that I’m not giving up just because I’m getting a few laughs and learning how to let go of control.
The "I am a punk" thing? It’s not some mantra I chant to remind myself I’m cool—it’s just my way of saying I don’t need to fit into anyone's box. That doesn’t mean I’m going soft, though. Trust me, I’m still the same girl who thinks most wellness fads are absurd. I’m just starting to realize that vulnerability might not be the worst thing to feel every once in a while.
And if that makes me less punk to you, well… I guess I’ll survive.
Bubbles: Hah, I totally get where you're coming from. The whole lying on your back thing does feel a little “movie-torture” at first, right? You’re absolutely right—it’s like one of those scenes where they strap you down to get injected with some poison.
But here’s the kicker: once you're in it, the weirdness kind of fades away, and you start to realize you’re not actually dying here—just giving your body permission to freak out a little.
I won’t lie, I was definitely weirded out the first time I saw that sterile table setup. But somehow, it all becomes part of the ritual.
The “sterile beige” thing? Yeah, I get it—it's a little too clean and clinical, but there’s something about that contrast. Once you’re in it, you’re like, “Oh right, I'm not being tortured. I’m just laughing at myself.”
But hey, if you’re more dungeon vibes, I can’t argue with that. We all have our limits.
#4: "The Tickling Theory: Is It a Psychological Trick?"
Alright, I’ve been thinking. And I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a dangerous one, considering the questionable state of my sanity after the last session.
Let’s talk about something that’s been rattling around in my head ever since I left TickleFit:
Is there more to this than just... tickling?
Is there some hidden psychological trick at play here?
I mean, I can’t help but wonder—am I really healing from my corporate soul crisis, or am I just getting mind-gamed by a bunch of women who’ve turned laughing and being strapped down into an art form?
Look, I get it: I’m a skeptic. Maybe that’s just part of being punk. You look at everything through a lens of “what’s the catch?” You wonder why someone thinks it’s okay to play psychoanalyst through tickles. Is this a breakthrough? A mental cleanse? Or is it just a way to make me realize I’m not as ‘cool’ as I thought I was because I’ve been giggling like a damn kid while someone holds my hands down?
(It’s a little mortifying, okay?)
But here’s the thing: there’s something about the whole experience that does feel... different. You can’t just ignore it.
I’m strapped in, I’m laughing, I’m being tickled by someone whose sole purpose is to make me squirm, but in some weird way, it feels like my brain is being forced to let go of all those walls I’ve built up.
I didn’t expect to leave the room thinking, “Oh, my emotional state has just been untangled by the power of tickling,” but I’ll be damned if I didn’t feel... lighter afterward.
It’s hard to explain. There’s that thing they keep talking about—the “surrendering of control” bit. Maybe it’s a trick, maybe it’s just a bunch of soft psychobabble.
But the more I think about it, the more I realize: by letting go of the need to control my reactions, I started to experience something that felt like... release.
I mean, hell, I didn’t expect it to feel like some kind of mind-altering experience. I wasn’t planning on having a breakthrough or anything.
But could it be that tickling is just a weird way of tricking the brain into giving you a little peace?
So maybe it’s psychological. Maybe it’s not about tickling at all.
Maybe it's just about breaking down the constant tension of “I need to be strong,” “I need to be in control,” and “I can’t be vulnerable.”
I’ve built those walls for years. And sure, maybe I’ve been a little reluctant to tear them down.
But at least here, with the laughter, the vulnerability, and the complete absurdity of it all, I’m starting to question:
Why do I need to hold on so tight to everything?
I’m still not convinced this is some kind of psychological therapy.
But the fact that I’m questioning it at all?
Well, that’s got to count for something, right?
User Comments:
Mean_girl: So what you’re telling me is that laughter is a science now? First, it was feet. Now, you’re making giggling into philosophy. Next post: "The Existential Crisis of a Belly Laugh." Can’t wait.
Bubbles: I’d be willing to give this a shot, but I swear my overthinking brain would ruin it. Like, what if I just… don’t laugh? What if I just lay there and awkwardly stare at the ceiling while everyone waits for something to happen?
Lurker: "Am I healing or am I just getting mind-gamed by a bunch of women?" – Maja, I swear you could write an entire book based on that one sentence.
Margo: I love this. You’re putting into words something I think we all feel but don’t really analyze—how laughter is a full-body reaction, not just something that happens to us. You really have a way of making even the weirdest topics feel meaningful.
Good_ole_days: I don’t care how absurd it sounds—this blog keeps making me smile. And yeah, maybe we all need a little more absurdity in our lives. Keep it up, Maja. You’re onto something here, even if it’s the weirdest “something” ever.
Maja’s Responses:
Mean_girl: Oh, I love the idea of “The Existential Crisis of a Belly Laugh.” Maybe I should actually write that one. Imagine me just sitting there, contemplating the meaning of giggles like some kind of ticklish Nietzsche. “To laugh or not to laugh: that is the question.”
Bubbles: Honestly? That was my exact fear too. I was so sure I’d be the one person who wouldn’t react. But trust me, your body betrays you. You think you have control over it, but the second they find that spot—game over. (But hey, worst case? You just get a weird staring contest with your instructor. That’s still an experience, right?)
Lurker: A book, huh? "Ticklishly Untangled: One Goth’s Journey Through Laughter and Existential Dread." (Subtitle: Am I Free or Am I Just Highly Suggestible?) I mean, I’d read it.
Margo: That’s exactly it! We think of laughter as this casual thing, but it’s actually a full-body experience. And if you really let go, it changes you. I never expected to be thinking this deeply about it either, but here we are.
Good_ole_days: I never thought absurdity would be my brand, but at this point, I might as well embrace it. If this blog makes people laugh, think, or even just pause for a second in their day—then it’s worth it.
#5: "Foot Fetish? More Like Foot Philosophy"
Alright, let’s get this out of the way: I’ve heard the jokes. I’ve read the comments. I know what you’re thinking—“Maja, when did your life turn into a foot-themed existential crisis?”
Trust me, I ask myself the same thing every time someone mentions "foot personality" like it's an actual thing.
So let’s address the elephant in the room: the feet.
Or more specifically, the idea that my feet apparently have a personality of their own.
I’m still wrapping my head around this one. Like, did I miss some part of biology class where they explained that your toes are the window to your soul? I’m not saying it’s complete nonsense, but… it feels oddly convenient for a place built around tickling people senseless.
According to Marta (aka the TickleFit guru), our feet “speak” when the rest of our body is immobilized. And by “speak,” she means every twitch, every wiggle, every little toe curl is somehow revealing my inner emotional world.
So, what did my feet apparently say about me?
That they’re rebellious.
Of course.
Because apparently, I can't just be a person—I have to be a walking metaphor.
But here’s the thing: I kind of get it.
There’s something undeniably raw about being barefoot. Maybe it’s because I used to hide my feet in heavy boots, back in my punk-goth days, and only took them off when absolutely necessary. My boots were armor. They were heavy, loud, and unapologetic.
And here I am now, barefoot, strapped down, and having some overzealous wellness instructor telling me that my toes are “fighting back.”
At first, I thought it was ridiculous.
But the more I paid attention, the more I started to notice something… interesting.
My feet do react to everything. When I’m anxious, they tense up. When I laugh uncontrollably, they flex and point in every direction. It’s almost like they’re doing their own little dance, completely outside of my control.
And maybe that’s the point: they’re the one part of me that I can’t micromanage. They just are.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to start journaling about my “foot journey” or writing poems about the profound beauty of wiggling toes. (Can you imagine? "Ode to My Rebellious Soles.")
But there’s something kind of refreshing about letting go of all the pretense, all the carefully curated toughness, and just… being.
If my feet want to curl up and twitch like they’ve got something to say, fine. Let them.
Maybe they’ve earned it.
That said, I still draw the line at calling this “spiritual.” My feet aren’t whispering the secrets of the universe. They’re just reacting to tickling, like any sane person’s would.
But maybe that’s enough.
Maybe the freedom to twitch, wiggle, and laugh uncontrollably is a little bit of rebellion in itself.
User Comments:
Mean_girl: Good move! "I may not be punk, but my toes are." I delegate it to them, won’t micromanage. 😀
Margo: Cool that you addressed that elephant in the room… I read those interviews and wondered, "Do they really show you your feet struggling on camera every time?!" I mean… do they?
Maja’s Responses:
Mean_girl: Exactly! Delegating the rebellion to my toes might be the smartest thing I’ve done in a while. Who needs the whole "I’m punk" speech when I’ve got these little rebels twitching and flexing all on their own? Honestly, they’re doing a better job of staying true to the vibe than I am most days. Maybe I should let them run the blog next.
Margo: Oh, the camera thing… yeah, let me just say, that was a whole experience in itself. They don’t always show you the footage, but when they do, it’s like watching a bizarre nature documentary about yourself.
"Here we see the wild Maja’s feet in their natural habitat, fighting against the merciless tickle attack..."
It’s weirdly fascinating and mortifying all at once.
So no, they don’t shove the footage in your face every time, but when they do? It’s definitely something you won’t forget.
Trust me.
#6: "Tickling Therapy: Laughing Through Your Corporate Soul Crisis"
If you’d told me a few weeks ago that I’d be voluntarily strapping myself to a table and letting someone tickle me into fits of uncontrollable laughter to cope with corporate burnout, I’d have laughed in your face—without the straps, thanks very much.And yet, here we are.
Life’s funny that way, isn’t it?
Let me set the scene: it’s Tuesday morning, and I’m at my desk, furiously clicking away at an Excel spreadsheet that refuses to cooperate. The existential dread of “what am I doing with my life?” has just started to set in when I remember:
Today is a TickleFit day.
And for once, I actually feel… relief?
Like, knowing that in a few hours, I’ll be laughing so hard I can’t breathe instead of stressing over pivot tables feels like a small, ridiculous win.
Here’s the thing: corporate life has a way of turning you into a robot.
Wake up. Work. Repeat.
You spend so much time putting on your “professional” face that you forget what it’s like to just… exist. To be messy, human, and unguarded.
But then you walk into a TickleFit session, and all that carefully constructed composure goes out the window.
Because there’s no pretending you’re in control when someone’s tickling your ribs and you’re laughing like a maniac.
It’s absurd, sure.
But that absurdity is what makes it work.
There’s no space for overthinking when you’re strapped down, laughing so hard your stomach hurts. It’s like a hard reset for your brain.
All those little worries—about deadlines, meetings, and whether you’re doing enough to prove your worth—suddenly don’t matter.
In that moment, all you can do is laugh.
And the best part?
It sticks with you.
After a session, I feel lighter.
Like all the corporate nonsense doesn’t have quite the same hold on me as it did before.
Don’t get me wrong—I’m still annoyed by Karen from accounting and her constant passive-aggressive emails.
But somehow, it feels easier to brush off.
Maybe it’s because I’ve already surrendered to the chaos in one setting, so it’s easier to let it go in another.
That said, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows.
There’s still a part of me that feels weird about the whole thing. I mean, seriously, tickling therapy? How did my life get here?
But then I think about how good it feels to just laugh—without worrying about how I look, what people think, or whether I’m “cool” enough—and I realize:
Maybe this is what I’ve been missing.
So here’s my hot take:
Corporate burnout isn’t just about the work—it’s about losing touch with yourself.
And while I’m not about to start preaching that tickling is the cure for all your problems, I will say this:
It’s helped me find something I didn’t even know I’d lost.
Joy.
Laughter.
The ability to just be.
And in a world where we’re all so focused on achieving, succeeding, and keeping it together…
Maybe that’s the real therapy.
User Comments:
Little_witch: Call me unsophisticated, but I keep wondering about the physical, not the mental exhaustion… If I were in your no-shoes during that session, I’m quite sure I wouldn’t drag myself out of bed the next morning, let alone tame the Excels… That’s why I never got really into any sports or fitness! Do I have a shot at TickleFit?
Good_ole_days: I love reading about your sessions! You interchangeably become my crush and my little sister, and both are adorable! Do you also feel anything like that when watching others’ sessions?
Secret_crush: I wish I could see your playlists—for workouts and for relaxation… or should I say aftercare? 😉 Be sure to publish them on Spotify if you have any!
Maja’s Responses:
Little_witch: Oh, I feel you. The whole "dragging yourself out of bed after a workout" thing? That’s why my relationship with fitness has always been, uh… complicated.
But here’s the deal:
TickleFit isn’t about grueling physical exhaustion—it’s not like running marathons or flipping tires CrossFit-style (thank goodness).
Sure, you laugh so hard your abs feel sore the next day, and your body gets a bit wobbly from all the squirming and twitching, but it’s not the kind of workout that leaves you incapacitated.
If anything, the mental reset outweighs the physical toll.
And honestly, if you’ve avoided sports or fitness because they seem too intense or, let’s be real, boring, TickleFit might actually surprise you.
It’s weird, ridiculous, and not about being “good” at anything—it’s just about showing up, laughing your butt off, and maybe discovering a new kind of lightness.
So, do you have a shot?
Absolutely.
Just bring your bare feet and an open mind.
No gym membership required.
Good_ole_days: Aww, now you’ve got me blushing! Crush and little sister? That’s quite the combo, but I’ll take it—it’s probably the closest thing I’ve had to a punk fan club in years.
As for watching others’ sessions, oh, absolutely.
There’s something oddly fascinating about seeing people let go of all their walls and just… be.
Sometimes, I catch myself cheering them on in my head, like, “Yeah, you’ve got this!”
Other times, I’m just in awe of how open and connected they are, especially in pairs like Kasia and Paulina.
It’s like seeing a whole other side of people, one that’s usually hidden away.
It makes me wonder if I ever look that raw and relatable when I’m on the table.
Probably not.
I’m too busy trying to keep my toes from “revealing my soul.”
But hey, who knows?
Secret_crush: Oh, you want my playlists?
Alright, I’ll bite.
Workout mode? Full punk and goth energy—think Dead Kennedys, The Cure, and maybe a little Misfits to keep things interesting.
For aftercare? (Which, let’s be real, we all need.)
The transition starts with Siouxsie and the Banshees and eventually melts into something dreamy—like Cocteau Twins or Mazzy Star.
I wasn’t planning on dropping them anywhere, but now that you’ve asked…
I might just have to put together some TickleFit-inspired mixes and see what happens.
Stay tuned.
#7: "TickleFit vs. Punk Rock: The Ultimate Showdown"
Punk rock and TickleFit.
On paper, they couldn’t be more different.
One’s all about rebellion, chaos, and flipping off authority.
The other?
Let’s be real—it’s structured, controlled, and weirdly wholesome in a way that makes my inner anarchist twitch.
So, how the hell did I, Maja the Forever Punk, end up willingly strapping myself to a table and laughing my soul out?
Let’s start with the obvious: punk is about breaking rules, and TickleFit is… well, all rules.
You don’t just walk in and do your own thing. There’s a process—take off your shoes, lie down, get strapped in, and surrender yourself to whatever happens next.
Surrender.
If you’d told 17-year-old me that I’d ever voluntarily surrender anything, I would’ve rolled my heavily-lined eyes and gone back to blasting The Clash.
But the weird thing is, the structure of TickleFit doesn’t feel oppressive.
It feels… freeing.
Yeah, I know how that sounds.
The girl who used to tear down authority is now saying rules can be freeing?
What am I, a corporate shill? (Okay, maybe I am now, thanks to my job, but I digress.)
What I mean is, when you know there’s a framework in place—a safe word, clear boundaries—you can actually let go.
You don’t have to be in charge.
And that’s where the magic happens.
It’s like controlled chaos.
Kind of like the best punk shows, where the mosh pit looks wild but somehow no one ever really gets hurt.
But here’s where TickleFit gets even weirder:
It’s not just about you.
Punk was always this personal thing for me, an expression of my own rage, my own rebellion.
TickleFit, though, is strangely communal.
When you’re in that room, you’re not just experiencing your own laughter—you’re hearing everyone else’s too.
There’s this raw, unfiltered energy in the air that reminds me of being packed into a tiny, sweaty venue with a bunch of strangers who all know the words to the same song.
It’s messy, it’s loud, and it’s incredibly human.
So, is TickleFit punk?
Not exactly.
But here’s the thing: it doesn’t have to be.
It doesn’t need leather jackets, ripped tights, or angry guitar riffs to challenge the system.
In its own bizarre way, it’s subversive.
It takes something as silly and vulnerable as laughter and turns it into a form of strength.
It’s not about flipping off authority; it’s about flipping off your own fear of looking ridiculous.
And honestly?
That’s punk as hell.
The old me would probably scoff at all this—“You’re letting someone tickle you and calling it empowering?”—but I think she’d get it eventually.
Because even punk isn’t just about destruction.
It’s about building something better in its place.
And maybe, just maybe, letting yourself laugh like an idiot while someone else holds all the cards is one way to start.
So, who wins the ultimate showdown?
Punk rock or TickleFit?
Honestly, they don’t need to fight.
They’re two sides of the same coin: freedom through chaos.
And maybe, just maybe, I can be both.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: I can so much relate to what you wrote! I am on my way to the sessions… not sure when I get there yet, but I’ll be there! Make sure to get your referral from Marta!
Anarchy_in_PL: I don’t know much about TickleFit, but how is it more of a communal experience to you than music?!
Maja’s Responses:
Tenderfoot: Oh, you’re on your way, huh? I love that!
Trust me, I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I first showed up, but once you’re there, it’s one of those you-just-have-to-experience-it things.
And as for getting my referral bonus from Marta—ha! I’ll make sure she knows she owes me a lifetime supply of free sessions for being TickleFit’s punk ambassador.
Good luck, Tenderfoot.
I’ll save you a spot on the table!
Anarchy_in_PL: I get what you’re saying—music is absolutely a communal experience.
When you’re in the pit at a punk show, singing your heart out with strangers who feel like family for three minutes, it’s raw and electric.
But TickleFit hits differently (pun intended).
It’s not about shouting the same lyrics; it’s about the vulnerability of letting other people see you completely lose your cool.
The laughter becomes this shared language that’s impossible to fake.
It’s not better than music—it’s just… a different kind of connection.
Think of it like a really weird, really intimate encore.
#8: "I Laughed, I Cried... Wait, That’s Not Punk"
Let me just start by saying: crying?
Not exactly part of my usual wellness plan.
Laughter, sure. A little tickling-induced hysteria? Fine.
But tears?
No thanks.
That was never supposed to be part of the deal.
And yet, here we are.
So let me paint the picture for you: I’m on the table, strapped in like usual. It’s my third or fourth session, and by now, I know the drill.
Take off your shoes, lie down, and let the chaos begin.
It’s all fun and games at first—laughing so hard I can’t breathe, twisting around like a ridiculous fish out of water.
Typical TickleFit antics.
But then something weird happens.
In the middle of all the laughter, there’s this sudden shift.
It’s hard to explain, but it’s like the floodgates open, and all the stress, all the tension I didn’t even realize I was carrying, just pours out.
And before I know it, I’m crying.
Not the cute, single-tear, dramatic-movie kind of crying.
I’m talking full-on ugly cry.
And what’s even worse?
I’m still laughing at the same time.
It’s a bizarre combination—laughing and crying together.
On one hand, I feel completely ridiculous.
Like, this is NOT how I imagined my punk self handling anything.
On the other hand?
It feels kind of… amazing.
It’s like all those walls I’ve built over the years—trying to be tough, trying not to care—just crumbled in that moment.
I always thought crying was a sign of weakness.
Vulnerability wasn’t punk.
Punk was strength, rebellion, never letting the world see you break.
But here’s the thing:
Maybe letting yourself fall apart a little is strength.
Maybe it’s not about pretending you’ve got it all together but about letting yourself feel everything—even the messy, uncomfortable parts.
After the session, one of the instructors came up to me.
She didn’t say much, just gave me this knowing look, like she’d seen it all before.
"Sometimes it’s like that," she said. "Sometimes your body just knows what it needs."
And I hated how much that made sense.
So yeah, I cried during TickleFit.
And yeah, it felt like a betrayal of my inner punk.
But maybe it wasn’t.
Maybe it was just another way of flipping off the world—saying, “I don’t care if you see me like this because I’m not hiding anymore.”
And if that’s not punk, then I don’t know what is.
User Comments:
Margo: Wait, you cried and they just went on?! Didn’t your feet tell them it was coming? I’m uneasy now…
Desdemona: Again, makes perfect sense to me… your punk side gave way to goth…
Good_ole_days: Can I give you a hug?
Tenderfoot: You didn’t scare me off. I’m closer than ever. And I’ll be at your table if you need me.
Mean_girl: Oh wow, Maja. "I laughed, I cried"? And then "the walls I built came crumbling down"? Babe. You didn’t just have an emotional breakthrough; you had a crossover episode between Sinatra and Beyoncé. Do you need a moment? A playlist? A fainting couch?
Maja’s Responses:
Margo: Oh, they definitely didn’t just bulldoze through my emotional meltdown.
The whole session slowed down once the tears started flowing—it wasn’t some cold, “let’s keep going” thing.
The instructors have this almost freakish ability to read the room—or, in this case, your feet.
Maybe my toes did send out a distress signal; who knows?
Either way, they gave me the space to feel everything without pushing me too far.
So don’t worry, Margo—it wasn’t like I was left to drown in my own emotional soup.
They knew what they were doing.
Desdemona: Ha! So now I’m switching from punk to goth, huh?
You might have a point there.
The crying does feel a little too poetic and tortured to be straight-up punk.
But hey, maybe that’s just me embracing all my layers.
A little punk, a little goth, a little… whatever TickleFit is.
Who says I can’t be all of it?
Good_ole_days: That’s sweet of you!
A hug would’ve been nice in that moment, actually—though I probably would’ve squirmed out of it, knowing me.
I think I’ve spent so much time convincing myself I didn’t need things like hugs that I forgot how good they can feel.
So yeah, virtual hugs accepted.
Thanks for that.
Tenderfoot: You’re officially the bravest person I know—or at least the most curious!
Honestly, I love that you’re this close to diving in.
And hey, if you do make it to TickleFit, just know that the table’s not as scary as it seems.
(Okay, maybe a little at first, but you get over it.)
If you ever need someone to giggle alongside—or just someone to give you the “you’ve got this” nod—I’ll be right there.
Let me know how it goes.
You’ve got this!
Mean_girl: I KNEW YOU WERE GONNA DEFLECT. Look, I’m just saying, next time you’re on that table, and the emotions hit, don’t fight it. Just belt out Sinatra while Beyoncé plays in the background. Let the moment happen. And if I start quoting "My Way" in the middle of a session, I might just ascend into a different plane of existence. But now I do want to know… what would my ultimate TickleFit breakdown soundtrack be?
#8: "Kasia and Paulina’s Session: A Friendship I Wish I Had"
Let me tell you something about Kasia and Paulina: watching them at TickleFit was like witnessing pure, unfiltered connection.I don’t mean the cheesy, “we’re-besties-who-post-brunch-pics” kind of connection.
I mean real connection—the kind that doesn’t need words because it’s built on trust, history, and knowing exactly who the other person is.
Their session was almost like a dance, even though they were strapped to those infamous beige tables.
It wasn’t just about the tickling (though there was a lot of that).
It was the way they reacted to each other—the shared laughter, the occasional glances that said, “You’ve got me, right?” even when they were too busy squirming to actually say it out loud.
It felt intimate in a way that made me… well, a little envious, if I’m being honest.
I’ve always been a lone wolf kind of person.
Don’t get me wrong—I’ve had friends, some good ones even, but I’ve never really had that one person.
You know, the one who would show up without hesitation when the chips are down. The one you’d trust to share your most vulnerable moments with—whether it’s crying in a bathroom stall or laughing like a maniac while strapped to a table.
And watching Kasia and Paulina?
It made me realize how much I miss—or maybe how much I’ve never had—a connection like that.
There was this moment during their session where Paulina whispered something to Kasia before they were both about to get absolutely wrecked by the tickling (and yes, I mean that in the most wholesome way possible).
Kasia laughed, even as her eyes teared up, and just nodded.
Like she knew whatever Paulina said didn’t need explaining.
It was this unspoken language of “I’ve got you.”
And that hit me.
I don’t know if I’d ever let anyone that close.
Maybe that’s my punk armor talking—years of telling myself I didn’t need anyone to survive, that going solo was somehow a badge of honor.
But watching Kasia and Paulina made me wonder:
Maybe being strong isn’t about going it alone.
Maybe it’s about letting someone else in, even when it’s scary.
Especially when it’s scary.
I think that’s part of why TickleFit works.
It’s not just about the laughing or the tickling or even the vulnerability—it’s about sharing those moments with someone else.
Even if you’re on separate tables.
Even if you’re just watching from the sidelines.
You can’t help but feel the connections forming in that room.
So yeah, maybe I don’t have a Paulina.
Not yet, anyway.
But watching them gave me hope that maybe, someday, I will.
And when that day comes?
I hope I’ll have the courage to let them in, bare feet and all.
User Comments:
Margo: Please set it straight: are these your thoughts on THE session they had before that interview or just any of their sessions? You may not like that they steal the limelight, but when I read the interview, it felt like reading about an… idol? I keep wondering how much the journalist colored them up… and who can cut through the crap if not you (if there was any)! Don’t get me wrong, I love your post… and I totally relate to your longing for a true friend! I just crave your insider perspective, too.
Lurker: I second that! I hate to be that guy, but I just can’t resist a sneak peek into this foot-filming creep and the mind games your guru played with them.
Tenderfoot: Don’t worry, Maja, be yourself! It’s great that you tell us just what you’re comfortable with. I can’t wait to meet you!
Maja’s Responses:
Margo: Oh, Margo, you know I’ll always cut through the crap for you!
So, here’s the deal:
Yes, this post is about that session—the one that got all the attention, the interviews, and the glowing reviews.
And let me tell you, it wasn’t some overhyped, glossy fabrication.
Kasia and Paulina are the real deal.
What you read in that interview? Honestly, not far from the truth.
But as for the idolizing tone?
Yeah, I can see how the journalist might’ve leaned into the drama a bit.
That whole “foot-filming” thing was intense, though not as creepy as it sounds.
It wasn’t about objectifying or mind games—it was about showing them their own reactions, their instinctive connection, in a way that words couldn’t explain.
Watching it from the sidelines, I can tell you:
Nothing about their dynamic felt fake.
It was raw, real, and unpolished—kind of like them.
So yeah, the hype?
Pretty justified.
I just hope they’re ready to share that limelight because there’s room for all of us here, right?
Lurker: Okay, I get it—the “foot-filming creep” thing sounds like a subplot from a bad thriller, but it’s really not like that.
I was watching when Marta and the instructors brought out the footage, and it wasn’t some sinister, manipulative moment.
It was more like, “Hey, look how your body reacts when your mind isn’t in control.”
Weird? Sure.
But effective? Also yes.
And Marta’s whole “your feet tell the story” philosophy might feel over the top, but in that session?
I think it clicked for Kasia and Paulina.
It’s like they saw themselves—who they are for each other—through their reactions.
I won’t lie; it was fascinating.
Creepy? Not so much.
Marta may be intense, but she’s not a villain.
Just… a little dramatic.
Tenderfoot: You’re so sweet, Tenderfoot—thank you for that.
I’m definitely trying to strike a balance between sharing honestly and not oversharing, you know?
There’s a lot to unpack in this whole TickleFit journey, and I want to do it in a way that feels true to me.
I can’t wait to meet you either!
You’re going to love it (even the weird parts, trust me).
Follow-Up Comments:
Margo: OK, so these two really did buy into this "we-clap-our-bare-feet-on-the-floor-like-giddy-girls" stuff?
Lurker: Thank you, so lovely of you to answer these so patiently! Now we wait for Tenderfoot to corroborate your stories!
Maja’s Follow-Up Responses:
Margo: Ha! I don’t think they’re literally clapping their bare feet like some cheesy rom-com montage, but you know what?
They did seem to embrace the whole “letting go and laughing like kids” thing.
And honestly?
It worked for them.
Watching them was like seeing two people completely drop their guards and just be in the moment.
So yeah, maybe there’s a hint of truth to the whole “giddy girl” philosophy.
But if you ask me, it’s less about the feet-on-the-floor visuals and more about finding joy in being ridiculously unfiltered.
Still not sure if I’ll ever clap my own feet, though.
Some boundaries stay sacred.
#9: "I Laughed, I Cried... Now I See: Why Feet Matter"
Let’s talk about feet.I know, I know—again?
Believe me, I didn’t expect my TickleFit journey to turn into some kind of foot-centric odyssey either, but here we are.
The thing is, when you’re in a place that insists your feet are the key to vulnerability, connection, and self-discovery, you kind of have to stop and think:
What’s the deal with feet?
For starters, I get why feet make people uneasy.
They’re weird, often hidden, and, let’s be real, not exactly the most glamorous part of the body.
My punk boots were always my armor—not just for stomping down sidewalks but for covering up a part of me I didn’t want to think about.
And yet, in TickleFit, your feet take center stage.
There’s no hiding them.
No socks.
No shoes.
No excuses.
Marta (our guru, in case you’ve missed the recurring star of this blog) likes to call feet the “truth tellers” of the body.
And while that sounds like something out of a self-help book I’d usually roll my eyes at, there’s some weird truth to it.
When you’re strapped to that table, your feet are the only part of you that can fully react.
They wiggle.
They twitch.
They flex.
They “speak,” as Marta would say, in ways you can’t control.
And for someone like me, who’s spent years trying to control everything, that’s kind of a big deal.
I’ve seen it in myself, and I’ve seen it in others.
Watching Kasia and Paulina’s session, for example, it wasn’t their laughter or their words that told the real story.
It was their feet.
The way Paulina’s toes would curl toward Kasia when things got intense, almost like she was reaching out for her.
The way Kasia’s feet would try to shield themselves, then relax when Paulina’s laughter filled the room.
It was all there, this unspoken language, in the movement of their feet.
And then there’s me.
My feet?
Total rebels.
They fight.
They resist.
They twitch and spasm and do everything in their power to avoid giving in.
But here’s the funny part:
When I stop trying to control them—when I let them “speak”—that’s when I start to feel something shift.
It’s like they’re saying, “Finally, you’re listening.”
Do I think feet are the key to unlocking the mysteries of the universe?
Probably not.
But do I think they hold more power than we give them credit for?
Definitely.
They’re raw, unfiltered, and impossible to micromanage.
They’re the part of you that reacts instinctively, without overthinking.
And maybe that’s why TickleFit puts so much emphasis on them—because they’re the part of you that’s closest to the truth.
So yeah, I laughed, I cried, and now I see:
Feet matter.
Not because they’re magical or mystical, but because they’re real.
They’re a reminder that sometimes, the best way to move forward is to stop trying to control every step.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: knock knock*
Maja’s Response:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, hey there, Tenderfoot!
Is that you knocking on the TickleFit door already?
I’m getting the feeling you’re closer than ever to joining the fun.
Or maybe you’re just here to keep me on my toes (pun fully intended).
Either way, you’ve got my attention—what’s up?
Spill the beans!
#10: "Tenderfoot’s Big Leap: The Moment We All Start"
I’ve been thinking a lot about what it takes to start something new—like, really start.
Not the “Oh, that sounds cool, maybe I’ll try it someday” kind of start, but the moment when you stop lurking at the edges and actually take that first step into the unknown.
It’s terrifying, right?
Whether it’s walking into TickleFit or showing up for anything that makes you feel exposed, there’s always that nagging voice whispering, “What if this is a mistake?”
Tenderfoot, if you’re reading this (and I know you are), this one’s for you.
Because the way you’re inching closer to joining a session has me thinking about my own “big leap” moment—the one where I finally walked through that door, handed over my shoes, and surrendered to the absurdity.
And yeah, I’m still figuring it all out, but I can tell you this:
The hardest part is just showing up.
The thing about TickleFit—or any vulnerable experience, really—is that it forces you to face yourself.
It’s not just about the laughing or the tickling; it’s about being seen.
Your feet.
Your reactions.
Your guard coming down.
It’s raw, and sometimes it’s uncomfortable, but it’s also… real.
And once you’ve taken that first step, you realize you’re not alone.
There’s a room full of people who’ve been where you are, who know exactly how it feels to let go of control, even if just for a moment.
I’m not saying it’s easy.
There were plenty of times I wanted to bolt out the door and never look back.
But the funny thing is, every time I stayed, I learned something about myself.
Something I didn’t even know I needed to learn.
And that’s why I’m here for you, Tenderfoot.
Not to tell you what to expect or to sugarcoat it, but just to say:
You’ve got this.
Whatever happens, I’ll be there—on the sidelines or right at the table, cheering you on.
No pressure, no expectations.
Just a fellow traveler who knows how big this leap is.
So here’s to Tenderfoot and to anyone else standing on the edge, wondering if it’s worth it to dive in.
I can’t tell you what you’ll find on the other side, but I can promise you this:
You won’t be the same person you were before.
And maybe that’s the best reason of all to take that first step.
Bonus: 5 Things to Do Before Your First Visit to TickleFit
1. Say Goodbye to Your Socks
Seriously, this isn’t the time to cling to those “lucky” mismatched socks you’ve been wearing since college. The first thing they’ll do is have you go barefoot. Bonus tip: maybe give your feet a little TLC beforehand. Not because anyone’s judging (they’re not), but because you’ll be spending a lot of time staring at them.
2. Prepare to Laugh at Yourself (Literally)
Look, you’re going to laugh, and it’s not going to be cute. It’ll be the kind of laugh that makes your face go red and your stomach hurt. And you know what? That’s half the fun. Just embrace it.
3. Practice Your “What the Hell Am I Doing?” Face in the Mirror
There will be moments when you catch yourself thinking, “How did I end up here?” Own it. We’ve all been there. It’s part of the initiation.
4. Forget Everything You Thought You Knew About Control
You’re not in control here. That’s kind of the point. Let go, laugh, squirm, and maybe even cry a little. It’s all part of the absurd charm.
5. Don’t Take It Too Seriously
This is TickleFit, not a TED Talk on self-discovery. It’s supposed to be weird, fun, and maybe even a little awkward. The more you lean into the ridiculousness, the better it gets.
User Comments:
xXx: *Remind me again… you label yourself anarchist, right? Coz you’ve been sounding more like a founding mother of some new nation recently. 😀 No offense intended—it’s just endearing. 🙂 *
Tenderfoot:
Safe box for my lucky striped socks—checked…
Extract emo-tolerable parts of the playlist—checked…
Prepare to laugh at myself—recalled from university freshman year, should suffice…
Decipher “TLC”—checked…
Practice “What the hell am I doing” face—will do when implementing TLC…
Control & seriousness—Maja, I’ll need you here! I guess I’m as ready as I can be…
Margo: Cheers to Tenderfoot—don’t freak out, little one!
Shining_armors: Call for rescue, young maiden, and we will come!
xXx: Pun… intended?
Tenderfoot: What if I ACTUALLY NEED saving???
Maja’s Responses:
xXx: Founding mother of a new nation? Oh no, what have I done?
Does that mean I need to draft a constitution?
Don’t worry, though—this hypothetical nation would have anarchy in its DNA, complete with punk playlists and mandatory laughing fits for all citizens.
No offense taken—it’s hilarious and maybe a little accurate.
But hey, if being “endearing” is my downfall, I’ll take it.
Tenderfoot:
You’re cracking me up with this checklist! Freshman-year self-laughing skills? Sounds like you’ve got this on lock.
TLC, by the way, stands for “Tender Loving Care”—which is basically the motto for surviving TickleFit. (Or life, honestly.)
As for control and seriousness—don’t worry. I’ll be there to remind you to let those go.
You’re as ready as anyone can be for something as ridiculous as this. Let’s do it!
Margo: Cheers to that, Margo!
Tenderfoot’s got this, and I’ll be there to make sure she doesn’t freak out—though I think she’s doing just fine so far.
We’re all rooting for her.
Shining_armors:
A maiden in distress? At TickleFit?
Now that sounds like a plot twist waiting to happen.
I’d say we leave the rescuing to the instructors, though—they’re pretty good at steering you through the chaos.
Pun or no pun, you’re cracking me up.
Tenderfoot:
"You WON’T need saving. And if you do, I’ll be there.
#11: "Finding Our Feet: A Shared Journey Begins"
The first time you step into TickleFit, it’s hard to know what you’re walking into.For me, it was like crossing into some alternate dimension where being tied down and laughing uncontrollably is considered a wellness practice.
Now, watching Tenderfoot make her way toward her own first step?
It’s like seeing my journey all over again, only this time, I get to cheer from the sidelines.
When Tenderfoot walked into the room (yes, this actually happened—more on that in a second), I recognized the look on her face instantly.
Equal parts curiosity and “what the hell am I doing here?”
It’s a look I know well.
I lived it.
And if you’ve ever done anything that pushed you out of your comfort zone, you’ve probably lived it too.
We didn’t talk much at first.
It wasn’t the time for big, deep conversations—it was the time for small smiles, a quick “you’ve got this,” and letting her settle into the chaos at her own pace.
But here’s the thing about TickleFit:
It’s impossible to stay a stranger for long.
Once you’re in that room, hearing the laughter, seeing the vulnerability, you can’t help but feel like you’re part of something bigger.
Watching Tenderfoot take her first session was like watching someone find a piece of themselves they didn’t know was missing.
And while I’d love to say I was the wise, supportive guide who had all the answers, the truth is, I was just… there.
Sometimes that’s all you need—a familiar face to remind you that you’re not alone in whatever weird, wild thing you’re doing.
So, here’s to first steps, shared journeys, and the start of something that’s not quite friendship yet but maybe, someday, could be.
For now, I’m just happy to be along for the ride.
User Comments:
xXx: This has such big “first day of school” energy, Maja. Did you pack Tenderfoot a lunch too? I’m kidding, but seriously, it’s kind of sweet seeing you turn into the wellness goth Yoda. Just don’t start talking about “the force of vulnerability,” or I’ll lose it.
Mean_girl: Ah, so the barefoot goddess has taken on a disciple? Tenderfoot, welcome to the chaos. And Maja, I don’t care how punk you think you are—this was adorable. You’re starting to sound suspiciously like someone who knows what they’re doing. It’s almost scary.
Tenderfoot: Okay, first of all, let’s not overthink my “what the hell am I doing here?” face—it’s just my resting emo expression. Second, Maja, you’re way too nice. But seriously, having you there made the whole thing way less terrifying. I owe you one. (Also, xXx, you’d kill for my socks. Admit it.)
Margo: Cheers to Tenderfoot for surviving the initiation, and to Maja for being the coolest mentor ever! Honestly, this feels like the start of a new TickleFit duo. But no pressure—just enjoy the weirdness, both of you.
Good_ole_days: This is the most wholesome punk thing I’ve ever read. Maja, I feel like a proud older sibling watching you take Tenderfoot under your wing. Also, Tenderfoot, congrats! You’ve got this—and Maja’s clearly got your back.
Maja’s Responses:
xXx: Oh no. Is this it? Am I officially the wellness goth mentor now?
I refuse to start talking about “the force of vulnerability,” but let’s be real, I am starting to sound like someone who knows what they’re doing.
Terrifying.
And for the record, if I had packed Tenderfoot a lunch, it would’ve been the most emo meal imaginable.
Black coffee. A granola bar. And a note that just says “good luck, kid.”
Mean_girl: Barefoot goddess? Disciple?
Oh, this is too much power for one blog post.
I promise I haven’t become an all-knowing wellness entity. (Yet.)
I’m still the same semi-cynical, reluctant participant in all of this—I just happen to have enough experience now to warn people before they lose their minds on the table.
Or, in Tenderfoot’s case, to make sure she doesn’t bolt.
Tenderfoot:
First of all, resting emo expression is my favorite description of your face.
Second, I appreciate the honesty, and I appreciate you letting me be there for you, even if I technically did nothing except exist in the room.
But hey, sometimes that’s all you need.
(And yes, xXx wants those socks. It’s fine, just let them suffer.)
Margo: Coolest mentor ever?
I’ll allow it.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves—I’m still figuring this out, too.
But I love that we’re all getting to watch this journey unfold together, one ridiculous, giggly session at a time.
Good_ole_days:
Oh no, I’m really hitting the “proud sibling” level now, huh?
Guess that means I have to keep an eye on Tenderfoot now.
Wouldn’t want my little punk apprentice getting into too much trouble.
#12: "Watching Tenderfoot: More Than Just First Steps"
I thought I knew what it would feel like to watch someone else go through their first session.I mean, I’ve been in the room before.
I’ve watched Kasia and Paulina, I’ve seen others let go and lose themselves in the moment.
So why was watching Tenderfoot different?
Maybe it’s because, for the first time, it wasn’t just watching.
For the first time, I cared.
I saw the way her fingers curled into fists when she first got strapped in, the way she tried to brace for impact—like she was preparing for battle, when really, she had already lost.
(We all lose. That’s how it works.)
I recognized the way her body fought to stay in control, even as the laughter started bubbling up against her will.
I could see myself in her.
But the part I didn’t expect?
The part where I caught myself leaning in, mentally willing her to let go.
Not because I needed her to prove anything.
But because I knew—the second she stopped fighting, she’d feel it.
And when she did?
It hit me just as hard.
Because watching someone else lose control—especially someone you’ve been guiding, even accidentally—makes you realize just how much of yourself you’re still holding back.
So yeah, Tenderfoot had her first session.
She laughed.
She fought.
She lost.
But somehow, I walked away feeling like I’d learned something, too.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: Wait. WAIT. Are you saying you were watching me that closely?? You saw the fist thing?? Oh no. Oh NO. This is mortifying.
But seriously… with my Gen Z sensitivity—I know you psychoanalyzed my feet. But fine, it’s for the greater good. And I do love how you don’t overshare anything about my reactions and alleged emotions. And nor did you about Kasia and Paulina! You are very considerate of what is yours to share, please stick to that.
And I will share the rest… one day. I wanna see xXx hit F5 every 5 minutes until then. :evil: (No responsibility taken if I’ve just triggered an unintended DDoS on your blog 😉)
xXx: So you’re telling me you had an emotional revelation while watching your emo apprentice self-destruct? I feel like I’ve seen this movie before…
Margo: Is it just me, or does this feel big? Like, Maja, I swear I can feel you shifting while I read this. Not sure if you see it yet, but… you will.
Maja’s Responses:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, sweetheart.
I saw everything.
(Kidding. Mostly.)
But hey, don’t panic.
I wasn’t watching you like some emotionally invested hawk—more like… like someone who’s seen this happen before and knew exactly when it would hit you.
And let’s be real, you didn’t exactly have a poker face.
Also, noted—I’ll keep my deep-cut foot psychoanalysis contained for the greater good.
And don’t worry, your story is yours to tell. I get that.
But I love the idea of xXx absolutely destroying their keyboard waiting for your post.
xXx:
Oh great, now my life is a coming-of-age indie film.
What’s next? Slow-motion montage? Existential voice-over?
Margo:
…Yeah.
I feel it, too.
I don’t think I’m ready to put it into words yet.
But I think you’re right.
#13: "When Tenderfoot Let Go (And What It Meant for Me)"
I didn’t realize how much I’d been waiting for this moment.Not just for Tenderfoot to reach it—but for me to see it happen.
The thing about TickleFit is that you can’t halfway surrender to it.
You can fight it, sure—most people do at first.
You try to brace yourself, to stay in control, to pretend you’re handling it better than you really are.
But eventually?
You let go.
You have to.
And the second you do, everything shifts.
For me, that moment happened weeks ago.
For Tenderfoot?
It happened today.
At first, she was doing her best to keep it together.
She had that classic first-timer determination, that “this is fine” energy—like if she just focused hard enough, she could outthink her own body.
(Spoiler: She could not.)
But the second it hit—the moment when she stopped trying to hold on and just let herself react—I saw it.
That laugh that comes from somewhere deeper, not just from being tickled but from something breaking open inside you.
That moment where resistance collapses and is replaced with pure, helpless joy.
And just like that, the perfectly composed emo cryptid (her words, not mine) transformed into an absolute chaos gremlin.
I knew it the second it happened because I remembered what it felt like when it happened to me.
And I won’t lie—watching it happen to someone else?
It hit me hard.
Because it made me wonder:
If I could see that she had been holding back more than she realized…
Then what was I still holding back?
And am I brave enough to let it go?
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: Okay, but I feel like you’re making it sound way more poetic than it actually was. In my head, it was just, “Welp, guess I’m dying like this.”
xXx: Maja, you’re dangerously close to getting sentimental again. Proceed with caution.
Margo: This is what I meant before. You’re seeing yourself differently now, and I feel like it’s only going to keep happening. I love watching this unfold.
Mean_girl: Oh, this is cute. Your emo apprentice had her breakdown, and now you’re feeling things. But the real question is, did she scream? Because I feel like she screamed.
Shining_armors: Fair maiden hath suffered greatly? Fear not! We, noble knights, art on our way to rescue thee from thy peril!
xXx: OH FOR THE LOVE OF—SHE IS NOT A DAMSEL, SHINING. SHE IS A GREMLIN. A CHAOS GREMLIN. STAND DOWN. And please… I beg of thee! Keep thy steel-hard weaponry FAR away from us.
Maja’s Responses:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, don’t even try to downplay it.
I saw it.
And yeah, maybe in your head, it was just existential dread, but from my perspective?
It was art.
Also, I stand by my assessment—you went full chaos gremlin for a second there.
(But fine. Perfectly composed emo cryptid it is. I’ll update my notes accordingly.)
xXx:
Oh no, am I getting sentimental?
Someone stop me before I turn into a motivational speaker.
(But seriously, noted. I’ll try to balance my emotional revelations with more sarcasm next time.)
Margo:
You’re right.
I feel it happening.
And I don’t know where it’s leading yet, but I guess that’s part of the deal.
Stick around—let’s see where this goes.
Mean_girl:
Oh, she screamed.
It was glorious.
But more importantly?
She laughed.
And that’s the part that matters.
Shining_armors:
Oh no.
I knew this was coming.
Listen, Shining, buddy, I love the enthusiasm, but I promise you, there is no rescuing happening here.
The only thing Tenderfoot needed saving from was her own denial.
Also, xXx is right.
This was not a "noble maiden" situation.
This was a full-blown cryptid transformation, and it was beautiful.
#14: "A Blog, A Break, and a New Voice"
I knew this moment was coming.Not the TickleFit transformation moment, not the Marta pulling me deeper than I ever expected moment—no, this was something else entirely.
This was the moment where I had to admit I can’t do everything at once.
I’ve been trying.
Trying to keep my job from swallowing me whole.
Trying to process everything that’s happened in the last few weeks.
Trying to keep this blog alive, to tell my story, to make sense of it all.
But I can’t. Not right now.
And that’s okay. Because, as it turns out, someone else has been quietly preparing for this moment, waiting for the right time to step in.
Tenderfoot.
A while back, she sent me a message:
"Hey, so… I’ve been writing. Since our first session, actually. Didn’t know if I’d ever share it, but if you ever need a break, I’d love to give it a shot. No pressure. Just putting it out there."
At the time, I thought, That’s cute. But this is my blog.
Now?
Now, I realize that this blog has never been just mine.
It’s been shaped by the people I’ve met, the ones who have changed me, the ones who have walked this path with me.
And Tenderfoot?
She gets this just as much as I do.
So, for the next few posts, Tenderfoot will be taking over—sharing her side of this journey.
And honestly?
I think she’s been waiting for this moment just as much as I have.
She’s got something to say.
And I think it’s time we listen.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: NO STOP YOU CAN’T JUST INTRODUCE ME LIKE THAT, NOW I HAVE STAGE FRIGHT. But for real—Maja, you’ve carried this blog through so much. Let me carry it for a bit. (Also, if anyone has a time machine so I can go back and edit all my dramatic overreactions before posting them, that would be great.)
xXx: OH WE ARE SO BACK. Tenderfoot unleashed on the blog? This is gonna be chaotic. Also, Maja admitting she needs a break?? Who had “character development” on their bingo card?
Margo: This is actually perfect. The blog has been shifting for a while—this just makes it official. I cannot wait to read what Tenderfoot has been sitting on this whole time.
Mean_girl: I can already tell Tenderfoot’s posts are going to be unhinged in the best way possible. I AM READY.
Good_ole_days: This is huge. The blog is evolving, just like you are, Maja. And honestly? I love that for both of you.
Lurker: A single G note echoes in the distance…
Tenderfoot (Follow-up): NO. NOPE. ABSOLUTELY NOT. I AM NOT READY FOR THIS LEVEL OF MELODRAMA. (But also, I walked straight into this, didn’t I?)
xXx: Oh god. Are we summoning an emo breakdown? Is this the true initiation? Do we need to dim the lights and start blasting My Chemical Romance?
Shining_armors: Lo, the G note hath been struck! A call most dire, yet none shall turn away, for the path is set, and we must ride forth into fate! (Or, at the very least, into whatever chaos Tenderfoot is about to unleash.)
Maja’s Response:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, you’ll be fine.
(Probably.)
And hey, if you’re that worried about your past dramatic overreactions, don’t worry—I have them all saved.
For, you know… historical accuracy purposes.
xXx:
Oh, now this is a moment.
TickleFit chaos?
Maja admitting she needs a break?
Tenderfoot taking over the blog?
This does feel like a coming-of-age arc, and I refuse to be held responsible for what happens next.
(Also, the MCR reference? Strong work. We are officially in emo territory now.)
Margo:
You’re right.
This has been shifting.
And maybe it was always supposed to.
So let’s see what happens next.
Mean_girl:
If anyone is going to bring absolute unhinged energy to this blog, it’s Tenderfoot.
(And honestly? I’m ready for it, too.)
Good_ole_days:
Evolution, huh?
Yeah.
I guess that’s what this is.
And for the first time, I think I’m actually okay with that.
Lurker:
Oh, no.
Not the G note.
Tenderfoot, run.
Shining_armors:
You know what?
This time, I’m not even stopping you.
Because whatever chaos is about to unfold, we are all in it now.
#16: "Tenderfoot Speaks: The Moment I Almost Backed Out"
(Guest Post by Tenderfoot)I almost didn’t walk through that door.
I know, I know—how dramatic. But seriously, I stood outside that building, staring at the entrance like it was some kind of portal to another dimension.
I must have looked completely unhinged. Just standing there, one foot forward, one foot back, like I was debating whether to enter a haunted house or join a cult.
Because, let’s be real—what kind of person chooses to be tied down and tickled for self-discovery?
Not me.
Not the cautious, overthinking, definitely-not-here-for-anything-weird version of me that was having a full-on crisis on the sidewalk.
And yet, there I was.
I had read Maja’s blog. I had lurked in the comments (shoutout to Lurker, solidarity). I had done the thing where you say “Maybe I’ll try it someday” just to keep the idea at a safe distance.
But actually going in?
That was another story.
I had every excuse ready to turn around. I told myself I was too busy, too tired, too normal for this. I told myself that I didn’t belong in a place where people laughed until they couldn’t breathe, where they let themselves be seen like that.
And then I thought about Maja.
About how she showed up, even when she didn’t believe in it at first. About how she let it happen—even when it freaked her out.
And suddenly, the excuses felt like what they really were—stalling.
So I took a breath.
I walked in.
And you know what?
It was weirder than I expected.
The first thing that hit me was how… calm the place was. Like, I don’t know what I was expecting—maybe flashing lights, ominous music, some secret underground tickle cult initiation (which, for the record, is still how xXx describes it).
But it wasn’t like that.
It was soft. Welcoming. And weirdly safe.
And then I saw her.
Maja. Sitting there, looking up at me with this expression that said,
There you are.
And just like that, I knew I wasn’t backing out.
User Comments:
Maja: Tenderfoot. I cannot believe you just casually admitted to having a full existential breakdown on the sidewalk while I was inside, blissfully unaware. Also, “soft, welcoming, and weirdly safe” is not the tagline I expected for TickleFit, but I love it.
xXx: AH YES, THE FIRST TIME. The sidewalk hesitation. The “why am I here” moment. The mild concern that you are joining a cult. Classic. This is a rite of passage.
Lurker: Solidarity? SOLIDARITY. I knew I liked you, Tenderfoot. Also, this was actually kind of beautiful???
Shining_armors: Lo, the maiden did falter at the threshold! But she did press on, and thus, her legend doth begin! (Also, I would pay to see security footage of you dramatically hesitating outside that building.)
Mean_girl: Okay, but the way you just admitted that Maja was the reason you stepped in??? This blog is turning into a found family novel, and I am living for it.
Good_ole_days: You were always going to walk in, Tenderfoot. You just needed to realize it yourself. And I love that Maja was the first thing you saw. This was perfect.
Tenderfoot’s Response:
Maja:
Oh, don’t even act surprised.
I was standing out there for a full five minutes like an NPC waiting for a dialogue prompt.
Also, you were the reason I walked in, so technically, this is your fault.
xXx:
Oh, so this is an actual shared experience? Everyone has the hesitation moment?
Okay, good. Glad to know I wasn’t just being extra.
(But also? Still not convinced this isn’t a cult. Just a really wholesome, laughter-based one.)
Lurker:
SOLIDARITY.
(Also, thank you—but if you think this was beautiful, just wait until I start spiraling in real time.)
Shining_armors:
Oh my god. I knew you were going to go full knight mode on this.
And honestly? I respect it.
(But also, no, you may not have the security footage. That is classified.)
Mean_girl:
Look, I did not come here to get emotional over the found family trope, and yet?? Here we are.
Good_ole_days:
I—okay, wow. That was unexpectedly sweet.
(Ugh, why am I getting emotional over my own blog takeover? Help.)
#17: "Tenderfoot Speaks: What It Felt Like to Lose Control"
(Guest Post by Tenderfoot)I knew it was going to be weird.
I thought I knew what to expect—laughing, squirming, Maja watching me like a proud but slightly amused goth mom. But knowing something in theory and actually experiencing it?
Two entirely different things.
Because when it started?
I fought it.
Not in the dramatic, screaming, oh no, I’ve made a mistake kind of way. No, I did that internally, like any self-respecting overthinker.
Outwardly? I was just tense.
The kind of tense where you tell yourself you can control this, that you can handle it.
Spoiler alert: You cannot handle it.
The moment I felt the first real touch—this ridiculously light, completely unfair, why-is-this-so-effective kind of touch—my body betrayed me in ways I did not think possible.
And that’s when I realized:
This wasn’t about being ticklish.
This was about control.
Or, in my case, the complete and utter loss of it.
I felt it happen in real-time. That moment where I thought I was still in charge of my reactions, only to realize I was laughing harder than I ever have in my life, completely unable to stop.
I felt my body give in before my brain could catch up, like it was saying,
Finally. You’re not overthinking. Just let it happen.
And once I really let go?
I didn’t just laugh.
I felt free.
For someone who has spent way too much time keeping it together, keeping things in check, keeping myself composed—there was something almost… ridiculous about realizing that all it took to break me was a well-placed touch.
Ridiculous, yes.
But also?
Kind of incredible.
Because I walked in that day thinking I might regret this.
And I walked out knowing I never would.
User Comments:
Maja: "Tense but internally screaming" is such an accurate first-time TickleFit experience description. Also, EXCUSE ME, "proud but slightly amused goth mom"??? How dare you. But also, yeah.
xXx: I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS POST. YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE IN CONTROL?? Oh, Tenderfoot, sweet summer child. This was so good.
Lurker: "She thought she had control, but control was never an option." This is cinema. This is art.
Shining_armors: Lo! The maiden hath fallen! Her fortress of composure lay in ruins, her laughter echoing through the halls of fate! Verily, her transformation is nigh!
Mean_girl: Tenderfoot finally getting it in real-time??? Incredible. Maja, you’ve created a monster.
Good_ole_days: You didn’t just lose control. You found something in it, too. And that? That’s kind of beautiful.
Tenderfoot’s Response:
Maja:
Okay, but how did you not see this coming?
Like, logically, you had to know you were doomed, right?
(Also, I stand by my assessment—you were absolutely giving goth mom watches over her chaotic emo child energy.)
xXx:
Okay, okay, I GET IT.
Apparently, everyone but me knew I was going to fail spectacularly at staying in control.
(But also? Yeah. You were right.)
Lurker:
Oh my god. That makes it sound so dramatic.
But… okay. Yeah. Fine.
I did think I had control.
And control was, in fact, never an option.
Shining_armors:
Oh, here we go again.
Sir Shining, beloved knight of the dramatic monologue, I am not a fallen maiden.
I was ambushed by biology, thank you very much.
Mean_girl:
I refuse to confirm or deny whether Maja has created a monster.
(But also? Yeah. She probably has.)
Good_ole_days:
You saying that makes me realize it’s actually true.
I thought I was losing something.
But maybe I was finding something instead.
(Damn it, am I getting sentimental? Someone stop me.)
#18: "Tenderfoot Speaks: The Moment I Accidentally Told Marta Too Much"
(Guest Post by Tenderfoot)So, uh… I may have made a tiny, insignificant, completely irreversible mistake.
Let’s set the scene:
I was riding the high of finally getting it.
I had just walked out of a session where I didn’t overthink, where I actually let go, where I finally felt like I belonged here.
And then?
I did the dumbest thing possible.
I started talking.
To Marta.
See, I wasn’t even thinking about it. I was just… excited. And Marta? She’s got this way of making you feel like you can just say things, like she already knows what you’re about to tell her anyway, so why not just admit it?
So I did.
I told her everything.
About how Maja was the one who got me here.
About how she was the only reason I walked through the door.
About how she helped me when I wasn’t sure if I belonged, how she guided me through every hesitation, every doubt.
And then—THEN—I threw in the kicker:
"I don’t think I would have gotten through my first session if she hadn’t been there."
And Marta just… smiled.
Not the warm, aww, that’s so nice kind of smile.
The I have just gathered new and important information and will now be using it accordingly kind of smile.
I knew, instantly, that I had said too much.
And Maja?
Oh, she’s going to kill me.
User Comments:
Maja: Tenderfoot. TENDERFOOT. WHAT. DID. YOU. DO.
xXx: OH NO. OH NO NO NO. YOU HANDED MARTA THE FINAL PIECE OF THE PUZZLE. DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE???
Margo: I can’t even be mad. This is so in character for you. You were just excited. And now?? NOW WE ALL SUFFER.
Shining_armors: Lo! The maiden, in her boundless joy, hath unwittingly opened the gates of fate! And now, she must bear the weight of her confession!
Mean_girl: Marta was already watching Maja. And now? Now she has CONFIRMATION that she’s a secret TickleFit mastermind. Tenderfoot, you’ve doomed us all.
Good_ole_days: I knew this was coming. I felt it in my soul. And yet, I was still not ready. Tenderfoot, sweetie, you’re about to learn a lesson.
Tenderfoot’s Response:
Maja:
OKAY, OKAY, OKAY, BUT LISTEN.
I DIDN’T MEAN TO.
IT JUST HAPPENED.
(Also, Maja, you’re making it sound like I handed her the nuclear codes, when all I did was accidentally confirm your entire secret influence over my journey—WAIT. OKAY. MAYBE I SEE THE PROBLEM NOW.)
xXx:
I AM BEGGING YOU TO STOP YELLING AT ME.
I AM ALREADY YELLING AT MYSELF.
Margo:
Yeah. Yeah, I know.
I was so excited, and now I have accidentally ruined everything.
This is my villain origin story.
Shining_armors:
Oh, here we go again.
Sir Shining, beloved knight of the dramatic monologue, I did not unleash some fate-sealing prophecy.
I just… handed Marta all the leverage she ever needed.
Which, now that I say it out loud, does sound bad.
Mean_girl:
Okay, but hear me out—maybe this is a good thing?
(Maja, please don’t hurt me, I’m trying to be optimistic.)
Good_ole_days:
Yeah.
Yeah, I feel it now.
This is the exact moment where I realize I have made a terrible, terrible mistake.
#19: "Maja Speaks: The Reckoning (And Why Tenderfoot Must Pay)"
I don’t even know where to start.I woke up today thinking it was just another day. A normal, totally fine, not life-altering day.
And then—THEN—I walk into TickleFit and realize that, somewhere between her existential unraveling and her newfound enthusiasm, Tenderfoot has RUINED ME.
Because Marta?
Marta knows everything now.
I don’t even have to ask what happened. The second she looked at me—that smile, that calm, I-have-you-now smile—I knew.
I knew that Tenderfoot had talked.
I knew that Marta now had confirmation of everything I was trying to downplay.
And I knew, in my soul, that my life was about to change.
So naturally, I did the only reasonable thing:
I cornered Tenderfoot after the session.
“What. Did. You. DO?”
And this girl—THIS GIRL—had the audacity to look guilty but also a little pleased with herself.
“Okay. So. Funny story…”
Not funny. Not funny at all.
She told me everything. The casual conversation. The accidental overshare. The way Marta lit up like she had just solved the final piece of an ancient puzzle.
And now?
Now, I’m doomed.
I don’t know what Marta is planning.
I don’t know when it’s coming.
All I know is that she’s waiting for the right moment to make her move.
And Tenderfoot?
Oh, she’s going to pay for this.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: OKAY, OKAY, OKAY BUT LISTEN. I DIDN’T MEAN TO. IT JUST HAPPENED. (Also, Maja, you’re making it sound like I handed her the nuclear codes, when all I did was accidentally confirm your entire secret influence over my journey—WAIT. OKAY. MAYBE I SEE THE PROBLEM NOW.)
xXx: THIS. IS. EVERYTHING. I AM LIVING FOR THIS DRAMA. Maja, you trained a chaos gremlin and now the chaos gremlin has unleashed hell upon you.
Margo: I knew Tenderfoot would let something slip eventually, but this?? This is deliciously catastrophic. Maja, you are so screwed.
Shining_armors: Alas! The apprentice hath unwittingly sealed her master’s fate! And now, the prophecy unfolds! Verily, a reckoning doth await!
Mean_girl: OH, MAJA. OH, MAJA. This is what we call poetic justice.
Maja’s Response:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, you didn’t mean to?
That’s so funny because neither did I.
(Just kidding. I fully mean whatever comes next. 😈)
xXx:
No, because you’re actually right.
I created this chaos gremlin. And now? Now I must destroy it.
Margo:
This is beyond just screwed.
This is Marta has been waiting for this moment since day one, and now she has exactly what she needs.
And I have exactly one target for my revenge.
Shining_armors:
Oh, here we go again.
Sir Shining, beloved knight of the dramatic monologue, I know you think this is some fate-sealing prophecy moment, but let’s be clear:
The only reckoning unfolding here is mine.
Mean_girl:
Poetic justice???
Oh, we’re about to get real poetic.
Starting with Tenderfoot’s suffering.
(…In the most loving, friendly way possible, obviously. 😇)
#20: "The Offer Maja Can’t Refuse"
I knew it was coming.I knew it.
The second I saw Marta waiting for me after the session—standing there with that calm, patient, I-have-you-now smile—I knew I had officially lost the game.
And yet, when she spoke?
It was worse than I imagined.
“Maja,” she said, too gently. “I think it’s time for you to experience this from a new perspective.”
I stared at her.
“We’ve already done that.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not like this.”
And that’s when I knew—I wasn’t just stepping in, wasn’t just dabbling in the experience anymore.
Marta wanted me to fully take on this role.
Not as a full-fledged instructor. But not as a participant.
As someone who truly understands what it means to guide, to push, to shape an experience—not just react to it.
And for a second, I actually thought about saying no.
But then I thought about everything I’ve already done. About the way I felt when I first stepped into this, when I stopped resisting and just let it happen.
I thought about Tenderfoot—how I watched her grow, how I saw in real time what this experience was doing for her.
I thought about Kasia and Paulina, about the kind of trust that made this more than just tickling.
And, worst of all, I thought about the fact that Marta wasn’t even asking me to say yes.
She already knew.
So, naturally, I did the only reasonable thing.
I sighed. Rolled my eyes.
And said,
“Fine.”
And Marta?
She beamed.
Because she had already won.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: MAJA, I—I CAN’T. I ACTUALLY CAN’T. YOU SAID FINE??? JUST FINE??? I THOUGHT THERE WOULD BE MORE FIGHTING. MORE DRAMATIC RESISTANCE. BUT NO. YOU JUST ACCEPTED YOUR FATE. I NEED TO LIE DOWN.
xXx: MARTA HAS BEEN PLAYING 4D CHESS THIS WHOLE TIME AND YOU JUST LET HER CHECKMATE YOU. I AM IN TEARS.
Margo: I think this might be my favorite moment in this whole blog. The way you knew you were doomed and still stepped forward anyway? That’s growth, Maja. And you feel it, don’t you?
Mean_girl: *OH. MY. GOD. The casual way you just agreed to your own fate is sending me. You didn’t even fight back this time. Maja, you’re not just in this. You’re part of it now. *
Shining_armors: Lo, the prophecy is fulfilled! The warrior, once hesitant, hath now donned the mantle of her fate! Rejoice! For the next chapter begins!
Good_ole_days: I love this moment because it wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. It was just you, stepping forward because you wanted to. And that? That’s everything.
Maja’s Response:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, you thought I was going to fight back?
You thought there would be one last stand?
Tenderfoot. Sweetie.
I’ve been fighting this since day one.
Maybe it was just time to stop pretending I wasn’t already here.
xXx:
I—okay.
You’re right.
She had me in check like… ten moves ago.
I just didn’t realize it until I was already cornered.
Margo:
Yeah.
Yeah, I feel it.
And I don’t know if I’m ready for what comes next,
but I think I’m done pretending I don’t want to find out.
Mean_girl:
Oh, don’t act so shocked.
At some point, you just stop running.
And here we are.
Shining_armors:
You know what?
This time, I won’t argue with you.
Because whatever’s coming?
I think I’m ready.
(Probably.)
#21: "The First Time Marta Let Me Take Control"
I thought she’d ease me into it.I thought Marta, in all her mysterious guru wisdom, would give me a soft introduction—some minor role, a test run, a way to slowly let me get used to this.
But Marta?
Marta doesn’t do “easing in.”
So instead of a gentle start, I got this:
“Go ahead, Maja.”
I blinked. “…Go ahead and what?”
And then it hit me.
She wasn’t going to tell me what to do.
She was just… giving me the moment. Handing it over like I was supposed to just know what to do with it.
And the worst part?
I did.
I don’t know how to explain it.
One second, I was standing there, waiting for instruction, waiting for someone to guide me—and the next?
I just… did it.
And the second it started, I felt everything click into place.
It wasn’t about power. It wasn’t about control.
It was about trust. About connection. About knowing exactly how to make someone fall apart in the best possible way.
And for the first time, I understood why Marta had been waiting for this moment.
Because this?
This felt right.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: MAJA. OH MY GOD. I—I CAN’T. YOU JUST DID IT??? NO OVERTHINKING? NO PANIC? JUST—FULL SEND??? I AM ASCENDING.
xXx: So we’re just fully committing to the goth-turned-TickleFit-existentialist pipeline now? No hesitation? No fear? Just embracing the madness? I respect it.
Margo: This wasn’t just a shift. This was a moment. A huge one. And the way you described it? It’s like it had always been in you, just waiting to happen.
Mean_girl: I AM SHAKING. MAJA, YOU ARE ACTUALLY IN YOUR FINAL FORM. MARTA HAS BEEN TRAINING YOU FOR THIS SINCE DAY ONE.
Shining_armors: Lo, the warrior hath cast aside her doubts and stepped into her destiny! Rejoice, for the cycle is complete!
Maja’s Response:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, you thought I was going to overthink it?
That’s so cute.
No, because apparently, once I actually stepped into this role, my brain just shut off and let instinct take over.
Terrifying.
But also? Kinda great.
xXx:
Okay, but when you put it like that, it does sound like I’ve fully gone off the deep end into existential TickleFit enlightenment.
…Yeah. I’m fine with that.
Margo:
I don’t know if I’m ready to call this a moment.
But yeah.
It did feel like something that was always there, just waiting.
Mean_girl:
STOP.
I REFUSE to believe Marta planned this from the very beginning.
(…But also? Yeah. She probably did.)
Shining_armors:
Oh, for the love of—
Fine. You win this round, knight.
The cycle is complete.
#22: "Marta’s Turn (And the Moment That Changed Everything)"
I didn’t think she would actually do it.I mean, Marta guides this experience. She shapes it. She’s the one who always knows what’s happening, always in control, always watching with that calm, patient, I-see-the-ending-before-you-do expression.
But today?
Today, Marta was the one on the table.
She didn’t make a big deal out of it. No grand speech, no dramatic setup. She just looked at me—after letting me step fully into this role, after watching me experience the other side of TickleFit in a way I never had before—and said,
“Now it’s your turn.”
And suddenly, I wasn’t just stepping into a new experience—I was leading it.
I don’t think I fully understood the weight of what was happening until I saw her reactions.
The way her body instinctively fought it.
The way she laughed just as freely as anyone else.
The way all her careful control crumbled just as easily as mine once had.
And for the first time, I got it.
I got why she had waited. I got why she had been watching me all this time, letting me inch toward this moment at my own pace.
Because now I know exactly what this experience feels like—from every angle.
And there’s no more wondering what’s left to understand.
Now?
Now I know it all.
User Comments:
Tenderfoot: MAJA. YOU. DID. NOT. JUST. TICKLE. MARTA. YOU DID NOT. YOU DID NOT. YOU DID NOTTTTT.
xXx: YOU BROKE THE MATRIX. YOU FLIPPED THE SCRIPT. YOU WALKED INTO THE TEMPLE AND BEAT THE MONK AT THEIR OWN GAME. I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE SHOCKED IN MY LIFE.
Margo: Maja. I am literally speechless. You didn’t just step forward—you took control in a way NO ONE expected. And Marta LET YOU.
Mean_girl: THIS WAS NOT ON MY BINGO CARD. I THOUGHT MAYBE YOU’D GET MORE INVOLVED, MAYBE YOU’D EMBRACE YOUR ROLE—BUT YOU TURNED THE TABLES ON MARTA?? MAJA.
Shining_armors: Verily, the balance hath been restored! The master hath tasted the fate she once guided! And lo, the cycle continueth!
Maja’s Response:
Tenderfoot:
Oh, I did.
And I regret nothing.
xXx:
The monk vs. student analogy is killing me.
But also? Yeah.
I won the duel.
(…Or did I?)
Margo:
I don’t know if I would call this control.
It was something else. Something bigger.
And yeah. Marta let it happen.
Which means everything.
Mean_girl:
Neither of us had this on our bingo cards.
And yet, here we are.
Shining_armors:
Oh, for the love of—
You know what? Fine.
The cycle continueth.
And somehow?
I think I’m okay with that.
#23: "The Power Shift (And the Mischief I Couldn’t Resist)"
I’d like to say I was the bigger person.I’d like to say that, after everything, I chose grace. That I took the high road, forgave Tenderfoot for accidentally selling my soul to Marta, and moved on like an enlightened being.
But no.
Because the second I got new permissions, the second I realized I could do something about it, something in me snapped.
And that’s how Tenderfoot found herself strapped to the table, looking up at me with pure, wide-eyed regret.
“Maja,” she said, her voice already trembling with the sheer realization of what was about to happen. “Listen. We can talk about this.”
Oh, sweet summer child.
I smiled. Slowly. “Oh, I am listening.”
She swallowed. “Maja, we were friends. Were. Past tense. I liked you.”
“And I liked having a choice in my TickleFit journey, but you took that from me.” I crouched beside her, enjoying the moment. “So I’m simply returning the favor.”
Her entire body tensed. “Maja, please. I’m sorry. I swear I’m sorry.”
I leaned in. “Oh, I know you are. But I want you to prove it.”
And then?
Then I reached into my bag.
And pulled out the bracelet.
Her eyes went feral. “OH. NO. NO, YOU DID NOT—NOPE, NOPE, I AM OUT. I AM OUT.”
But she wasn’t out.
She was in. And deeply, deeply regretting every life choice that led her here.
Because, dear reader, this wasn’t just any bracelet.
This was my bracelet.
The one I’ve had for years—a black leather cuff, lined with silver studs, a relic from my punk past, the kind of thing I’d throw on with combat boots when I wanted to look untouchable.
And as it turns out?
Studded leather bracelets?
They tickle like hell when you drag them along the sole of someone’s foot.
Tenderfoot screamed.
And me?
Oh, I had so much fun.
User Comments:
xXx: SHE PULLED OUT THE BRACELET. THE SPIKED BRACELET. TENDERFOOT, BABY, YOU NEVER HAD A CHANCE.
Margo: I FELT THIS POST. I HEARD THE VILLAIN MUSIC IN MY HEAD AS I READ IT. THIS WAS PERFECT. THE BUILDUP. THE PAYBACK. THE WAY MAJA KNEW EXACTLY WHAT SHE WAS DOING. I’M IN AWE.
Mean_girl: TENDERFOOT HAS FALLEN. THE CHAOS GREMLIN IS NO MORE. LONG LIVE MAJA.
Shining_armors: Lo, justice hath been served! The maiden, once free, now lieth in chains of her own making! Rejoice, for balance is restored!
Good_ole_days: This wasn’t revenge. This was poetic justice. And Maja? You enjoyed it, didn’t you? Oh, I love this.
Maja’s Response:
xXx:
Listen, she deserved it.
And also?
It was deeply, deeply satisfying.
Margo:
Oh, I’m so glad you heard villain music.
Because I was absolutely hearing it too.
(And it was glorious.)
Mean_girl:
You say fallen, I say reformed through righteous suffering.
Either way, Tenderfoot has learned.
Shining_armors:
Oh, for the love of—
Fine.
Balance is restored.
(For now.)
Good_ole_days:
Poetic justice?
Oh, absolutely.
And did I enjoy it?
…Maybe.
(Okay, yes. A lot.)
#24: The Final Challenge: When We Stopped Fighting
Maja’s Perspective
I’ll be honest—I didn’t hold back. Not even a little.
Tenderfoot had it coming, and when I finally got my revenge, I made sure it counted. Every squirm, every breathless giggle, every wide-eyed plea—it fueled me. The second I had her strapped down, my only thought was: You started this. And, oh, how I finished it.
But the moment I let up, something unexpected happened.
There she was—exhausted, sprawled on the table, breathless and shaking. But instead of glaring at me, she smiled. Like I had done her some kind of favor. Like I had just carried out the world’s most aggressive friendship ritual. And just like that, my grudge against her melted away. The only thing left was curiosity—what did this girl look like when she was truly at her weakest, back in her old emo days? Because right now, even after all of that, she was still here.
I barely had time to dwell on it before the instructors rolled in a second table, positioning it right beside us. A chill went through me. This wasn’t over.
Marta stepped forward, hands clasped, eyes twinkling with something far too smug for my comfort.
“It’s time,” she announced. “You will now step in for each other.”
Wait. What?
The Rules
- Only one of us would be tickled at a time.
- There would be no breaks. The one being tickled could not ask for mercy.
- The only way to stop was if the other person chose to take her place. Voluntarily.
- And the kicker? If we failed to last through the challenge, I would lose my newly earned guest tickler status at TickleFit.
And yet, she was my only way out.
I turned to look at her, still barely catching her breath, her body limp from what I had just put her through.
She should be lying in bed with noise-canceling headphones, listening to whatever tracks from my aftercare playlist she managed to steal. Not here. Not about to get thrown into another battle.
I swallowed hard.
I had no choice. I had to go it alone.
The Fight
They started with my feet, and I thought I could handle it. Thought I could power through.
I was wrong.
My body jerked and twisted, laughter pouring out of me whether I wanted it to or not. I bit my lip, shook my head, clenched my fists—anything to hold on. Anything to stop myself from breaking too soon. Because Tenderfoot?
She deserved a break. I owed her that much.
But as the minutes stretched into eternity, my strength waned. And then, just when I thought I could take no more, they brought out my own damn bracelet. The one I had used against her. The studded leather scraped against my soles, and it was too much. My mind fractured, my will shattered.
“I GIVE UP!” I screamed. “I—”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! TAKE ME!!!”
The words ripped through the air like a war cry.
Tenderfoot.
Her voice hit me like a crashing drumbeat—raw, primal, louder than any scream in any genre I had ever loved.
And in that moment, as the weight of exhaustion and surrender loomed over me, I realized something—I had been too harsh on her before. Maybe I had pushed too far. And yet, despite everything, here she was, giving me the out I couldn’t take for myself.
Tenderfoot’s Perspective
I am so mad at past me.
Past me, who thought she was cute for calling this “the loop closing.” Past me, who spilled way too much to Marta. Past me, who did not, under any circumstances, prepare for this moment.
BECAUSE NOW THE LOOP IS CLOSING AROUND MY NECK LIKE A NOOSE.
I knew something was off when Marta gathered us together, but when she actually said it out loud?
“You’re going to have the exact session Kasia and Paulina had.”
I felt my soul leave my body.
Because we all watched that session. We all saw what it meant. And now?
Now, it’s us.
Maja was barely holding on, and I knew she wouldn’t last much longer. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to stay still, to let her take it. She deserved this. I was still gasping for air, still trying to recover from the absolute nightmare she had put me through.
And yet.
The second I saw her about to break, I knew.
If I let her surrender, it wouldn’t feel right. Not for me, not for her. Not after everything.
So, I forced myself up. Ignored the exhaustion. Ignored the burning in my lungs, the shaking in my limbs. And just as she opened her mouth to scream for mercy—
I beat her to it.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! TAKE ME!!!”
The moment the words left my lips, I collapsed back against the table, bracing for impact. I barely processed Maja’s reaction—the shock, the brief flicker of awe—before I was laughing again, before the tickling swallowed me whole.
And so it began.
Again and again, we stepped in for one another.
The Aftermath
Maja’s Perspective
I lay there, my body too drained to move, my breath coming in ragged bursts. Then, something shifted. A hand—warm, firm—slid into mine.
Tenderfoot.
I turned my head, meeting her exhausted gaze. And in that moment, I knew—I wasn’t alone in this. I had pushed her to her limit, but she had chosen to push back for me. We had fought for each other. And magically, something I had migrated to her… And maybe, just maybe, that meant something.
Tenderfoot’s Perspective
I had nothing left. My limbs ached, my lungs burned, but I felt lighter than I had in ages. When Maja’s fingers curled around mine, a strange calm settled over me.
I had redeemed myself. And then some.
The loop hadn’t closed around my neck like a noose.
It had tied us together instead.
And as I felt something cool and familiar around my wrist, I looked down.
Maja’s bracelet. Somehow, during all of it, it had ended up on me.
I turned to her, speechless, but she just smirked. “Looks better on you anyway.”
Maybe it did.
Comment Section:
Tenderfoot: I have no words. None. Except maybe, MAJA, WHAT HAVE WE DONE??
Margo: The way you two took turns saving each other? This was incredible. And Maja finally realizing she has what she wished for? Perfection.
Mean_girl: This wasn’t just a challenge. This was a story. A ridiculous, chaotic, beautiful story. And you both nailed it.
Shining_armors: Lo! The noble warrior Maja is now bound in trials most dire! Who shall—" (pauses) "—uh, no, I mean, the prophecy unfolds! The saga completes!”
xXx: "Nice save, knight boy. You almost embarrassed yourself again. But yeah… The loop has officially closed. The prophecy is fulfilled. I am screaming!
Good_ole_days: I was here for the tickling, but I stayed for the friendship. And now I’m crying. Damn it, Maja.
M_K_P: And just like that, what we always suspected has been proven… these two „skeptical” bloggers are the best ambassadors this club has ever had! Enjoy the bracelet, Tenderfoot, hopefully we didn’t strap it too tight…
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