I tend to disagree, as (in my opinion) a lifestyle is something you can choose. I doubt that many of us have chosen to be AB, DL or a combination.LittleRascal said:
Your use of the term 'Kink' is in its correct English use/meaning!LittleTyke said:
Thank you.Edgewater said:
i feel a pressure building.BBBen said:
Never would do thatLittleTyke said:i feel a pressure building.
I wish that I had known what I know now a decade and a half ago, so I could have diverted to a different future.PaddedinHaslet said:
Correction: Two and a half decades. Dam'n, I'm getting old...LittleTyke said:
I agree with the Tyke: be upfront as early in the relationship as possible (usually before the first intercourse). No matter how attractive, the potential partner is not "right" for for you if they can not be part of your fantasy life. Toleration is a poor substitute.LittleTyke said:I was just inspired to write this. Some will probably guess where the inspiration came from.
By now, even though I haven't been on board for very long, I have seen a multitude of posts along the line of "I waited XX years before telling my spouse...". And, more often than not, the post author is now in a dilemma, in trouble, divorced, or whatever not-so-positive situation. So I want to share my own experience, hopefully to help a few people who are not yet married with children. Can I save just one person from a very unhappy future, then this hasn't been in vain.
First of all: DO NOT get married (or get kids) before telling your partner about your kink(s). Some people might argue, that doing so would be immoral, because your partner would unknowingly be pulled into something they might not agree with. But that is not my point. This is for your own sake. What happens when they enventually find out, because you (finally) tell about it, or because they accidentally find your hidden stash? Are you willing to go through the crapstorm and flood of tears that is likely to erupt? And are you ready to lose a relationship that supposedly means something to you?
Granted, some partners turn out to be open-minded, which is a good thing. Or maybe it isn't really great if your partner sees it as a sort of sacrifice to let you diaper yourself, play baby, or whatver your kink is about. Maybe the partner only acts okay with it, to save the relationship. People are different.
Now, why do I write about this? Because I've been there myself, that's why.
My background: Mainly due to bullying in school, my self-esteem was between "low" and "zero" when I was a teen, as weel as in my twenties. I was awkwardly inconfident around women. I got my first girlfriend in my late twenties (!), and ended up marrying her a few years later. As soon as we began dating more seriously (before marriage), I told her about my fetish. I had been into diapers all my life, so it wasn't a new thing to me at all. Having a girlfriend was a new experience.
She flat out rejected my fetish, and would not hear of it. I wasn't allowed to indulge myself in my fetish. At all. I accepted this, because I didn't want to lose the only girlfriend I'd ever had. At times, I hate myself for this. I should have ended it, but I didn't know any better. And I can't change my past.
The first half decade, or so, went relatively fine. I could more or less keep my kink away in good times. But then things began to change. I don't know what happened "chemically", but when my wife got pregnant, she began to change. Just a little. When she had given birth, she changed more. And, years later, when our child began going to school, she had changed a lot more.
Before, we had an easy-going life. Now there were rules and schedules. Unspoken expectations, that resulted in scoldings when they weren't met. My still fragile self-esteem was shattered, and I was a complete push-over. Under the thumb. As an example, I was once scolded for not waking up by myself early enough (to her liking) in a weekend, when the alarm clocks weren't set, and we had no appointments. I was constantly walking on eggshells, afraid to say or do something wrong. Or even to do the correct things in the wrong order. And my fetish – my best coping mechanism – was no-go.
Needless to say, I was miserable. And I began revisiting my kink "under-cover", when I had the chance to do so. Did it feel good? Yeah, but not great, because I had to keep things hidden, so I couldn't really relax, even when trying to live out my kink. And at times I hated myself for being different.
To cut the painfully long story short, it ended in a divorce. Not because of my kink (I don't think that she ever discovered anything), but because neither of us could handle the hostility anymore. The main reason that I had kept going for far too long, was that I didn't believe that I was able to live on my own. That's how low my confidence had become. But some nice people I confided in gave me sufficient nudges to get out of the crappy and toxic marriage. I am forever grateful to them.
After I had moved to a new place, I immediately began looking for a girlfriend, as I still didn't believe that I could function on my own. Fun fact: Being desperate is not helpful on the dating scene. A few years went by, and my confidence grew. Slowly, but steadily. At one point, it had grown enough to be self-sustaining, self-strengthening, or whatever makes more sense. I got to know people, with and without kinks. I had sex with other women than my now ex-wife, which was an altogether new experience. All the women I was intimate with were told about my kink in advance. I didn't want to hide that anymore. A few saw me in diapers and baby clothes.
Eventually, it got to the point were I stopped searching. It occurred to me that I was living happily on my own, and it worked out fine!
Half a year, or so, after I decided to quit searching for a partner, I began communicating with a woman, that eventually became my current girlfriend. I wasn't actually trying to date – I just commented on something she had written in a post somewhere. Three weeks after first contact, we met IRL. But most importantly: I told her about my kink before we even met!
We have now been together for nearly five years, and I've never felt better. My kink is no longer hidden (from my GF, that is), and nearly all my fetish stuff – diapers, baby clothes, toys and such – are neatly stored, and readily available, in a closet in the bedroom. Not hidden away in boxes in the attic or the basement. My wonderful GF expects me to live my kink as much as I feel like, and she occasionally participates in various ways.
This became much longer than I intended. Sorry about that.
I urge you to tell about your kinks in advance. Maybe not before the first IRL meeting, but at least well before you begin planning a wedding, or try to have kids. If they cannot accept your kink, then you must think long and hard about whether or not you can live without it. Do not get fooled by love (or what you might think is love, if you are as inexperienced as I was). It may be easier to ignore your special needs in the butterfly-woozey beginning of the relationship, but what happens when the endelss droning of Everyday hits? After five years? Ten? Fifteen? Will you be able to handle it then? Maybe, maybe not. I couldn't.
I will argue, that if your kink is a big and important part of you, and a person cannot accept that, then that person is not a potential partner for you. Please! Save yourself from future misery.
"Toleration is a poor substitute."BuddyBoy said:
You are a lucky man Little Tyke. Here's hoping for many happy years to come.LittleTyke said:"Toleration is a poor substitute."
I couldn't have phrased it better myself.
Over the years, I've realized more and more, that physical attraction means just about nothing, compared to personality. My (new) wife may look well and surely middleaged, sagging and chubby to most people, but to me, she is the most wonderful woman.
Yup, I know. And thanks.BuddyBoy said:
Yes! Thank her profusely! Make her know how special she is to you! I'm delighted that it's going well. I was not expecting a happy ending to a story that began that way, but I'm delighted!TabaCrate said:
Hear the words of wisdom!LittleTyke said:I was just inspired to write this. Some will probably guess where the inspiration came from.
By now, even though I haven't been on board for very long, I have seen a multitude of posts along the line of "I waited XX years before telling my spouse...". And, more often than not, the post author is now in a dilemma, in trouble, divorced, or whatever not-so-positive situation. So I want to share my own experience, hopefully to help a few people who are not yet married with children. Can I save just one person from a very unhappy future, then this hasn't been in vain.
First of all: DO NOT get married (or get kids) before telling your partner about your kink(s). Some people might argue, that doing so would be immoral, because your partner would unknowingly be pulled into something they might not agree with. But that is not my point. This is for your own sake. What happens when they enventually find out, because you (finally) tell about it, or because they accidentally find your hidden stash? Are you willing to go through the crapstorm and flood of tears that is likely to erupt? And are you ready to lose a relationship that supposedly means something to you?
Granted, some partners turn out to be open-minded, which is a good thing. Or maybe it isn't really great if your partner sees it as a sort of sacrifice to let you diaper yourself, play baby, or whatver your kink is about. Maybe the partner only acts okay with it, to save the relationship. People are different.
Now, why do I write about this? Because I've been there myself, that's why.
My background: Mainly due to bullying in school, my self-esteem was between "low" and "zero" when I was a teen, as weel as in my twenties. I was awkwardly inconfident around women. I got my first girlfriend in my late twenties (!), and ended up marrying her a few years later. As soon as we began dating more seriously (before marriage), I told her about my fetish. I had been into diapers all my life, so it wasn't a new thing to me at all. Having a girlfriend was a new experience.
She flat out rejected my fetish, and would not hear of it. I wasn't allowed to indulge myself in my fetish. At all. I accepted this, because I didn't want to lose the only girlfriend I'd ever had. At times, I hate myself for this. I should have ended it, but I didn't know any better. And I can't change my past.
The first half decade, or so, went relatively fine. I could more or less keep my kink away in good times. But then things began to change. I don't know what happened "chemically", but when my wife got pregnant, she began to change. Just a little. When she had given birth, she changed more. And, years later, when our child began going to school, she had changed a lot more.
Before, we had an easy-going life. Now there were rules and schedules. Unspoken expectations, that resulted in scoldings when they weren't met. My still fragile self-esteem was shattered, and I was a complete push-over. Under the thumb. As an example, I was once scolded for not waking up by myself early enough (to her liking) in a weekend, when the alarm clocks weren't set, and we had no appointments. I was constantly walking on eggshells, afraid to say or do something wrong. Or even to do the correct things in the wrong order. And my fetish – my best coping mechanism – was no-go.
Needless to say, I was miserable. And I began revisiting my kink "under-cover", when I had the chance to do so. Did it feel good? Yeah, but not great, because I had to keep things hidden, so I couldn't really relax, even when trying to live out my kink. And at times I hated myself for being different.
To cut the painfully long story short, it ended in a divorce. Not because of my kink (I don't think that she ever discovered anything), but because neither of us could handle the hostility anymore. The main reason that I had kept going for far too long, was that I didn't believe that I was able to live on my own. That's how low my confidence had become. But some nice people I confided in gave me sufficient nudges to get out of the crappy and toxic marriage. I am forever grateful to them.
After I had moved to a new place, I immediately began looking for a girlfriend, as I still didn't believe that I could function on my own. Fun fact: Being desperate is not helpful on the dating scene. A few years went by, and my confidence grew. Slowly, but steadily. At one point, it had grown enough to be self-sustaining, self-strengthening, or whatever makes more sense. I got to know people, with and without kinks. I had sex with other women than my now ex-wife, which was an altogether new experience. All the women I was intimate with were told about my kink in advance. I didn't want to hide that anymore. A few saw me in diapers and baby clothes.
Eventually, it got to the point were I stopped searching. It occurred to me that I was living happily on my own, and it worked out fine!
Half a year, or so, after I decided to quit searching for a partner, I began communicating with a woman, that eventually became my current girlfriend. I wasn't actually trying to date – I just commented on something she had written in a post somewhere. Three weeks after first contact, we met IRL. But most importantly: I told her about my kink before we even met!
We have now been together for nearly five years, and I've never felt better. My kink is no longer hidden (from my GF, that is), and nearly all my fetish stuff – diapers, baby clothes, toys and such – are neatly stored, and readily available, in a closet in the bedroom. Not hidden away in boxes in the attic or the basement. My wonderful GF expects me to live my kink as much as I feel like, and she occasionally participates in various ways.
This became much longer than I intended. Sorry about that.
I urge you to tell about your kinks in advance. Maybe not before the first IRL meeting, but at least well before you begin planning a wedding, or try to have kids. If they cannot accept your kink, then you must think long and hard about whether or not you can live without it. Do not get fooled by love (or what you might think is love, if you are as inexperienced as I was). It may be easier to ignore your special needs in the butterfly-woozey beginning of the relationship, but what happens when the endelss droning of Everyday hits? After five years? Ten? Fifteen? Will you be able to handle it then? Maybe, maybe not. I couldn't.
I will argue, that if your kink is a big and important part of you, and a person cannot accept that, then that person is not a potential partner for you. Please! Save yourself from future misery.
I found my second wife on a dating site that focuses quite a bit on kinks (mainly BDSM), making it much easier to spot who is open to something different, and who is not.LuckyBear said:
