I knew by the time I was 5, without having a name for it. There were times in early childhood where diapers were necessary after surgery. The fact that there were times of them being accepted, then not, talk about confusing. Any time diapers were mentioned, I'd :blushie: and die, thinking, "Holy crap! Shut up; shut up; shut up! La la la, I can't hear you! They know. I'm not sure what they know, but they do, and they're mentioning them just to hurt me!" People who loved me seemed to understand that I had difficulty controlling every other muscle that able bodied people usually can, but apparently thought my, "go," muscles spasmed expressly for the purpose of angering them.
I feel like a swan in a sea of odd ducks, because in my teens, if diapers didn't come up, I didn't think of them too much. I know for most, this gets stronger in the teens. One day, in the car, when I was 13ish, my mom and I ended up talking about what I think was either Stanly, or the Jerry Springer episode, and guess who told me AB diapers existed. That's right, my mom, weird! At the time, I thought baby diapers that big were the oddest thing ever. All the small peices of my childhood that when taken together, obviously add up to AB, hadn't clicked yet. Forgive me?
For fully regressed me, "no," to anything sexual would be too hard to say, because I feel like everyone is bigger than I am, so I make sure nothing sexual happens right of the bat. It's like I get, "down so deep," that sex wouldn't occur to me, and if anything sexual happened, I'd be ripped out of headspace, and be laying there trying to survive. Wow, I'm getting sad sackish, sorry.
I have had sexy feelings while diapered, but I wasn't regressed, I can't get anywhere near regressed, and my bladder really hurt badly at the time, and pain in general is interesting, so I think given that, I'm more a pain freak than anything else. It was in that moment, though, that I understood people who are sexual ABDLs. I decided to stop being a separatist.
One thing I'm truly glad I have is an authentically weird, and thus, nonjudgmental mom, complete with footed PJs. She's not ABDL, just truly and authentically weird. She finds human behavior endlessly fascinating, because she's never been able to figure folks out. She and my stepdad know, but I don't know to what degree, because I had my ears covered when he loudly, angrily outed me because he was angry and wanted to yell hurtful stuff, like most folks do.
To each his or her own, everyone has at least one weirdness, and if you're weird, it helps if your loved ones are, too, are my points, I suppose.