Back to the Start
by, 07-Jun-2015 at 18:39 (436 Views)
I'm at home wearing nothing but a diaper (M4) and thick wool socks (with blue stripes to match the tapes!). Sometimes I love diapers so much I feel like bursting. Like this weekend, for instance: I've spent all of it diapered and rarely have I been so grateful to have uncovered this side of me.
So how'd I do it?
I didn't start wearing diapers again till I was twenty-three--but I knew I liked diapers since I was three, which means I've been a diaper lover in some capacity for over thirty years. A lot of us can trace our ABDL selves back to childhood. I can actually pinpoint exactly where mine originated: a hospital ward. When I was three I spent two months in the hospital, and because I was too weak to get out of bed I was forced to wear diapers. In fact, a nurse saying "we're going to pad them under you" while diapering me is literally the first sentence I remember hearing. Having been toilet trained for over a year I was, understandably, mortified--but I quickly grew to love being diapered. I was upset when it stopped. To compensate I started stealing my baby cousin's diapers whenever we'd visit my aunt and uncle. Eventually I was caught; the subsequent humiliation effectively drummed my interest in diapers out of me for almost twenty years.
But one isolated memory stands out: learning that a classmate of my cousinís was still in diapers and thinking he was the luckiest guy in the world. The poor kidís embarrassment never even registered. He gets to wear diapers!
Meanwhile, in high school I developed a panty fetish. I was especially drawn to cotton panties--particularly white ones--and pretty soon I was wearing Fruit of the Loom and Hanes Her Way panties I'd bought from Kmart. Then one day when I was twenty I saw a package of pads in my roommate's closet and was immediately consumed by the urge to wear one. In retrospect I should've clued in to what was happening; instead, I borrowed (alright, stole) her pads and started wearing them with my panties. And then three years later, seemingly out of the blue, I was consumed by a new urge: to pee my panties. So I did. I'd come home at lunch, change into a pair of panties, climb into the bathtub, pee, clean up, hang the panties in my closet, and go back to work. Eventually--inevitably--I started putting pads in my panties before wetting them. By this point I was effectively wearing diapers; I was certainly replicating the experience of wearing them. Looking back, it's amazing I didn't put two-and-two together for another year.
Something finally clicked the following summer. I had the house to myself a lot--my roommate was working three jobs--and was therefore afforded plenty of opportunity to let my mind wander. One night, the idea of wearing diapers suddenly popped into my head. I was immediately intrigued. Something about the idea just felt right. With a mixture of trepidation and excitement I started scouring the internet and eventually came across a site called Diaper Pail Friends. That night I learned that adult diapers were an actual thing, not just a figment of my imagination. Moreover, I discovered an entire community that shared my weird little interest. I found that there were people my age who enjoyed wearing diapers; some of them had known about their feelings for as long as I had.
I wasn't alone.
I couldn't believe it. I devoured websites, learning as much as I could about this thing called "ABDL." All those disparate strands I'd been collecting since childhood came together. I had a new label--diaper lover--and an immediate goal: to acquire diapers. Late one night I went to the grocery store and bought a sample pack of Depends pull-ups. I was physically shaking when I pulled one on. And when I wet it, when I was able to relax my mind and let go of my body, the feelings overwhelmed me. I stayed up all night going through the entire pack. At first diapers were almost exclusively sexual for me. However, as I began to better understand my relationship with diapers, I realized I had a strong emotional attachment to them. Today, that side overshadows the sexual one, although that's not to say diapers don't still turn me on. And while nothing can top that first experience, I still get a rush almost every single time I wear.
A lot of us have tied ourselves into knots trying to figure out why we like diapers, but there comes a point where we have to acknowledge that we just do. The reasons don't matter. We all have a story. Some are novella-length; others are as long as epic novels. But they all have similar endings, and that's what's most important. I'm happy I got here in the end. I'm also happy about the damp M4 I'm wearing and the day I have in front of me to revel in the joy of being diapered.