At the age of fourteen I realized I had a fetish for diapers. The next thought was "I can never tell anyone about this.". This queued the beginning of the anxiety for my fetish.
I would go to great lengths to hide any and all evidence of my indulgence. I would set small traps in the proximity of my stash that would alert me to the possibility that I had been caught. If the trap was disturbed, the stash would be disposed of with great haste. No exceptions.
Now, I fully understand that this was over kill. However, the idea of someone, namely my parents, finding out was a fate worse than death. My parents are loving, kind and caring people. So I'm not sure where this fear came from.
When I turned turned 20 I moved almost 200 miles away from my parents. With this change you would think I'd attempt to embrace my fetish and explore immediatly. Sadly, it took almost half a year for me to get comfortable enough to get diapers. Until now I was able to swipe diapers from various places; friends houses mainly. In this new city I knew almost no one.
It took about a week for me to work up the nerve to purchase from my local Walgreens. A pack of the most uncomfortable and unattractive Depends were my spoils. I was shaking so much when paying the clerk, I ended up putting the money on the counter instead of placing it in her outstretched hand. When I got home though; I was free.
It was happy to actually have a stash, but I was ecstatic for my new found success. During the next few months I was able not only purchase what I wanted, but wear in public too! I was on top of the world. I could finally explore my fetish. That's when I found diapers for DL people. I accumulated an excellent stash and enjoyed them frequently. It was several years until I got a job with a company that has now become my career.
My stash was never as big as the ones I've seen on other forums or abdl sites but it was enough for me. I typically kept three differant styles and about ten each. This afforded me the ease of moving with help from friends with out any anxiety. I could easily put them in a small-ish box and no one was the wiser. At this point my fetish was no longer a constant source of anxiety. It was a normal weekday night or weekend affair that brought me comfort.
Depression. It started slowly. I would occasionally have a bad day. More than a bad day really. A day where everything sucked. That lead into several days and than weeks. Until finally I was always in a foul mood. Nothing that made me happy was worth doing anymore. Then it got bad. The anxiety came back ten fold. I didn't have the luxury of slow on-set. It just started one day. Then it came in waves over the next month. This time, however, it wasn't due to my secret. It was just life. Life made me anxieous and paranoid.
Then as quickly as it came, it was gone. Not just my new found problems, but the depression as well. I was happier than ever and something was missing. My career was going great. Life was amazing. I could have my diaper fun and it was better than ever, but something was missing. Nice apartment, new car, cool toys and lots of friends, but something was missing. This was the trend for almost a year; until I knew what was missing.
It happened so fast. Before I new it I was sharing my bed with the girl of my dreams. Fast forward almost a year. I haven't even seen a diaper since we got together and I'm fine, but I know it wont last. I'll need to wear eventually. She will need to know and I have to be the one to tell her. I started preparing myself for it by reading anything I could find on others experience and rehearsing how it would go in my head. Given the anxiety I felt about my fetish, the mere thought of telling her about it would make my heart race, vision blur and hands shake. This had to be done. If only to relieve this anxiety.
Three days ago while sitting on the couch and having a very normal conversation, I found that our conversation had lead me to a situation I couldn't get out of easily. The time had come. Nervous and scared I spilled the beans. I explained it as well as I could and as simply as possible. And her reaction? Acceptance. Intrigue. Surprise. Surprise that I had waited so long to tell her. That I had reacted so extremely. Happy that I trusted her that much and that there were absolutely no secrets between us now.
The rest of that day was like a dream that my brain could barely comprehend. She wanted to participate. Not because she's into diapers, but because it made me so happy and she wanted to see what it was like. Thankfully I had saved the rest of my stash. All we had to do was go get it from a storage complex. So we did. Soon we where sitting on the couch together. Wearing diapers and talking.
That was Tuesday. As I write this, I am again sitting on the couch with her. No pants. Just a diaper and a shirt. We have established some bounderies. Conveniently they all involve things that I wouldn't do anyway and all the things I like to do normally are fine.
I am writing this to show how something that brings us so much joy and comfort can be and should be shared with the one you love. No matter how scary it seems. Don't let the thing that brings us so much joy hurt you. Just be you.