I see post after post after post, thread after thread after thread about the angst associated with wearing, using, and enjoying diapers. So many people--young and older, but mostly young--spending so many hours of their lives fretting about why they are doing this terrible weird thing and whether it is right and if they should continue and if they'll ever "accept" themselves and their feelings, etc.
And I get it. I do. Even in a world like this one, where the web connects you so easily to thousands just like yourself so you know from early in your life that you are not a freak, that you are not the only weird person in the universe who is into this, no one likes being alone. Everyone wants to believe there will come a time in his or her life when he or she will be accepted and loved fully--in person--for the totality of him or herself. And...can that possibly include diapers? Oh, the angst is real and very understandable, and even more so if it comes from parental rejection or a background of abuse or any of a dozen other mitigating circumstances.
So I see post after post after post, thread after thread after thread, suggesting the purge and recover cycle or the leave and return cycle or some other form of the self-flagellation, self-abuse, and self-denial that we can be so darned good at.
But you know what, people?
I am 56 years old and recently incontinent. While that is a new development, I've had feelings connected to diapers for half a century. For the first twenty years of that, I thought I was probably the only such sick, twisted person in the world, but it didn't matter: I couldn't stop how I felt no matter how many times I tried to walk away from it. (It didn't help that I wet the bed so often, a powerful reminder of the notion of diapers in my life.) I had all of the cliché angst, all of the silly fun when I met someone in college who was accepting, all of the purging when that relationship stopped being the same, all of the cyclic behavior that everyone has. And you know why everyone has it?
Because these emotions are embedded in our brains and we cannot stop them. If we try to bury them, that's all we are doing: burying them. At some point they will surface. And the sooner in our lives we realize that, the happier those lives will be.
None of us knows why we feel what we do. Maybe we wish we didn't feel this way. But, hey: guess what? We do. And we're lying to ourselves to believe that we can change that. So the best thing to do is learn to live with them. Accept yourself. Accept who you are. Because there is nothing fundamentally wrong with you. You have a little quirk that most people don't have; so what? Others have quirks, too; theirs are different. I don't understand theirs any more than they understand mine. And mine has the advantage of not hurting anyone at all.
When I lost my ability to control my bladder, my history with ABDL made acceptance of my condition much easier, though frankly the whole 24/7 in diapers thing is a thorough pain in the butt and should disappear from anyone's list of fantasies. But I'm OK with this if it is what my life will be because there's no shame in it. There's even a bit of fun still (even now).
So, young people who worry and ask "can I ever accept this?": the answer is simple: Yes, you will. You will because you have to. Because it's not going away. And life is too wonderful to live it in the shadows. If you don't accept it, that's exactly what you're going to do.
And what the heck kind of a life will that be?