I don’t really know how to start this story, because unlike so many that I have read, it doesn’t have any particular starting point, rather a series of (at times surreal) events that looking back on now, in totality explain a lot about how my passion for diapers and infantilism has evolved.
My first memory was when I was 6 or 7 when I snuck out one night from my room to steal a nappy from my 18 month old sister. I can’t remember why I did this but I remember vividly what happened. I went into the bathroom to see if it fit and when it didn’t I found some tape to fit around my waist. Just as I thought I had gotten away with it, and as I sneaked back into bed my brother woke up and asked what I was doing, told me to take it off and go back to sleep. To this day, I believe he thinks it was a dream and to me it felt like one too. Just as my fetish was about to be fulfilled it was taken away from me in an instance, as if I had woken up in the middle of a dream.
As life went on, certain events occurred which in isolation seem strange, but each drew me closer to this world. Be it forming friendships with a younger boy at an after school programme who happened to be a bed wetter (and who was open enough to talk to me about it) and another girl at this program who was addicted to pacifiers (aged 8/9) and even offered me one to keep at one point which I reluctantly denied, to my first wetting, life has led me to this world.
It wasn’t until I was in my teens that I fully got involved in the fetish. At the age of 12/13, I had a few months of bedwetting which caused me to consider diapers more seriously. Whilst my parents tried to solve it with a plastic bed cover, I began plans to take the next step. I remember ordering a free sample pull up and having to get to the mailbox first in the morning, carry it around school all day without anyone seeing it and then hiding in my bedroom when I got home.
It’s fair to say one pull up was never going to be enough and while I saved money to buy some more I substituted the feeling with toilet paper to give the absorbent, padded feeling.
The day I decided to take the plunge and buy a full pack was rather exciting. When the rest of the family was out, I made the 20min trek to the supermarket. My undercover task – a note I had written to buy pull-ups for my fictional toddler sibling. I asked a clerk to help me find them to make it look like I didn’t know what I was doing, and even brought some other items to make it look like a food run. On the way home it covered the plastic bag in a sweatshirt so that no one could see and then raced in side to try them on. It was a day I would never forget.
But the hardest bit has been keeping it a secret. From memory there are 2 clear experiences which I am adamant have meant someone in my family knows. The first was when I foolishly left a dry pull up under my pillow with my PJs for bed, only for my step mum to lift up the pillows to close the window above my bed. The second, my dad walking in on me changing for bed and me having to quickly cover the one pull up already on and the second lying on the floor in front of me. Whilst never parent ever said anything, it made me think that perhaps I should stop.
In fact the feeling that this is wrong and that it is something I shouldn’t be doing is a feeling I have had numerous times. Most notably during my two week nappy challenge (which due to insecurity only lasted 2 days). I had the house to myself for two weeks, ordered 2 packets of adult diapers and wipes to last me the time. The challenge to wear and use the diapers for two weeks straight (at home). But as I went through the first few days, wetting, messing and changing diapers, I had this sudden realisation that this was wrong (which I later found out is a common feeling in young ab/dls). I threw out all of the un-used diapers, my stash of pacifiers, bottles etc in one fell swoop and for a few months that was the end of it.
But it didn’t last, I started wetting the bed again (now in my 20s) and I remembered why I got into it in the first place. There is a sexual element which I cannot deny, but it is so much more than that. It’s not the babying I had as I grew up (my mum wiped me till I was almost 10 etc) or the accidents I had as a child (pooping in public etc) and it’s not a need out of physical issues, but it’s a need out of mental relaxation. I feel at home in diapers. I love seeing mentions of diapers on TV and in movies, everywhere I go I see this world and I love being a part of it.
I don’t know if I’ll ever find someone to share it with (I can only hope) but for now I am content to wear my diapers, suck on my pacifier, drink my bottle, and live the life my story has led me to. It’s been a crazy ride, but the next chapter will be even better.