The neurodivergent princess and the pea

(with a side of people-pleasing)

The Princess and the Pea (image compliments of mypracticalinsanity.com)

Earlier in life I prided myself
on being “low maintenance.”

The examples I was given, the archetypes I was handed—
gossip, cliquiness, image-based, self-absorbed,
always subtly demanding attention, adoration, and care—
those were the markers of “high-maintenance.”
Maybe in other words: vanity, impurity, selfishness - words from a generation-removed.

All those I avoided with rigid precision.
No pink, no gossip, no talk of boys.
No form-fitting clothes, no demands for attention or action on my behalf.
Quiet, small, serving, never-asking or demanding.
Inhibited, shrinking, checking before acting, filtering all words before speaking.
Encouraging, friendly, caring.
Giving, giving, giving.
If you are always giving, you are providing the “maintenance” for others
and can never be thought to be asking for too much.

But in becoming a sponge,
I became high-maintenance for myself.
What do I do with all the things I took in?
They have to go somewhere, be shoved in some dark corner,
or be worried over with enormous amounts of empathy,
until I am exhausted.
And the pushing! There was so much pushing inside…
for more giving, more productivity, more people-pleasing,
more friendly interactions, never say no to protect yourself or your time or your energy.
Always protect the other person’s feelings.

This led to burnout, as you can imagine.
A sopping full sponge, who can barely move.
Who will help me?
Over-empathizing,
over-pleasing,
and now chronically low-energy,
no focus, no motivation,
no ability to be on time anywhere.
Chronic GI issues and back pain.
Searching for an expert who will explain me to myself
and fix what’s wrong.

That is one piece of this story.
But wait, there’s another!
A fairy-tale taken to explain how I feel.
A missing piece of the self-maintenance tale,
I have often felt like I needed so much
just to be comfortable, to be okay,
to be able to focus on my day.
The princess and the pea,
that explains it a bit.
Someone turned off the switch in my brain.
I can’t focus,
or my energy wanes.
If my energy dips too far, all is lost!
How can I keep going?
If it’s raining and I forget to bring,
an umbrella
I can’t seem…
to focus on anything else but…
I should have, I would have, thought ahead
and planned to bring one everywhere instead.
My wet body can’t notice anything but
my temperature and wetness.
Temperature can be such a drain. I need it to be just right to be okay.
Crisp cool air with a jacket, that is my favorite. I feel so alive, so great that way.
But cold water is awful - keep it away!
Hot temperatures though make me so tired so fast. I cannot recover, I cannot last.
I have to sit down or I get dizzy. I cannot sleep unless a fan is there.
Oh, no I am the princess and the pea! 
It takes so much to bring comfort to me.

I’ve found new words and new insights to know
How I explain this sensory need
& how my energy and focus are my greatest need.

But that is not all!
The opposite side of sensory drain,
once you can find it—
the thrill of… 			…sensory delight.


continued in next post…

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What are your sensory drains? (You can include delights too, but we’ll be exploring those more in the next post!)

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Please join me 1/27/25 for a Neurodiversity Workshop, where you’ll create an entire workbook full of neurodivergent self-care — your sensory needs, attunement preferences, rest preferences, creating the “just right” environment for you, and more!

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