Amythyst

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I'm new here because I am somewhat ashamed of my fetish. I am 20 and I have been interested in wearing diapers since I was 5. I repressed it until I was 16 when I had a severe mental breakdown caused by stress brought on by my parents. It grew and manifested into me fully regressing at night and that being the only way I could sleep. When I was little my mom used to verbally and physical abuse me for wetting the bed or having accidents, along with regular emotional abuse that has gone on throughout my life.

I guess I just want to know if that may be the reason why I am the way I am. She recently found a diaper that I had in my room from awhile ago and completely tore into me for it. I was mortified and completely beside myself, unknowing of what to do now that she knew. She throws it up in my face all the time now. I am so scared she's going to tell someone I'm close to.

I use diapers as a comfort item, I do not find them sexually arousing at all but I can't tell her anything without being screamed at.
 

caitianx

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I am an Adult Baby due to childhood abuse and neglect by my Mom who was psychotic.
My childhood was a living hell.
I understand where you are coming from emotionally.
My inner child is permanently fused on the outside.
Anyway, I am 60 years-old and I have been an Adult Baby for half my life.
 

Missy1

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There are many DL that comes from this cind of terrible backgrounds dear , as are there other factors to count in or certain diagnosis as well. So the answer too youre question is only a professional can answer that question.

HOWEVER ( and im NOT a professional ) based on what youre saying id say yes it might be one of the reasons you have becomed a DL/Little dear. for you the diaper seems to be a safety blanket so to say and by wearing this you feel safe , and also as you have Bedwetted as younger and been punished for it you probably have trauma built in from not being able to protect youre self from this with the proper protection and you have somehow in youre mind developed this craving to feel safe with diapers .And being able to regress you can go back to a more safe time in youre life /or how you would like youre childhood to have been ) = Little
And again MANY different aspects makes us to be Little /AB etc... But yes broken child hood is one of them,as is again certain diagnosis etc....
 
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Slomo

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From what you describe this is not even a fetish for you. It is an emotional comfort and coping mechanism. And yes, childhood trauma is one of the many possible reasons we can eventually become compelled to love diapers. Because we may have lacked that love as childeren (though that does not always apply).

It sounds like your mom is still quite toxic to you too. You really should consider talking about this with an actual psychologists. Or better yet, work towards moving out asap.
 

BlueGrey

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I was also abused severely as a child, and I am sure that is where my AB comes from. I had physical, mental, and sexual abuse that I am still trying to come to terms with. I needed a place to hie, and babyhood was the only place I could come up with.
 

dogboy

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I was abused by my cousins when I was very young, and had to fight my way as a child as I grew up in some very poor neighborhoods. I had good parents who loved me though, but it simply was a different day and age where young males were expected to be tough so they could go and fight the next world war.

That said, I had a psychotic break when I was in 7th grade, about 12 years of age. My parents were going bankrupt and we had to move once again. I had a very good friend whom I had bonded to, and leaving him put me over the edge.

I think I've always been a diaper lover, but it was after my psychotic break that I started acting on being AB/DL, first wetting underwear, etc. Life is complicated and the reasons for wanting to wear diapers is complicated as well. The theory of imprinting comes as close as any for adults wanting to wear diapers. You can check it out on Wikipedia along with Paraphilia Infantalism.
 

foxkits

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Yes child hood trama can being forced into diapers for day wetting but a part of me found feeling like when I was a baby being taken care of.
That caused my liking of diapers for comfort.my mom is the same way about my diapers she blames her self for diapers but takes it out on me.
 

Trevor

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What you describe might be the reason. I suspect it's a complicated mix of factors of personality and circumstance. Although it might be interesting to know what caused it for me, I don't believe I'll ever have any real certainty about it. I'm okay with that.
 

lilshelly

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While I can't really relate to the abuse as a child I can understand why you might regress into a baby. I was emotionally abused as a young adult. My mom would shame me for the diapers. My step dad would give me a hard time because of the man factor I was not living up to his standards. Which is another story completely. I have to agree with the toxic environment. It took me years to get out of it. When I did get out of it and was able to do my own thing my parents seemed to better understand me as a person. I don't understand the little side of things that much. I have been told I am a little and when I can really let myself go and be little it is a relief. The diapers for me are something that I have actually come to need because of Cerebral Palsy and it is different when you actually need them. It took some getting used to and it still is hard to deal with at times but for me it is just a way of life now.
 

Cottontail

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What you describe might be the reason. I suspect it's a complicated mix of factors of personality and circumstance. Although it might be interesting to know what caused it for me, I don't believe I'll ever have any real certainty about it. I'm okay with that.

This. "An unlikely coincidence of factors" is probably the closest to truth that any of us will ever get. It's relatively common to see people here confidently declaring that their diaper fetishes stem from bedwetting or from being somewhat late to potty-train, for instance. But then if those things were causal factors by themselves, we'd surely have a lot more ABDLs than we do. That's not to say that those things aren't parts of the equation, though. It's certainly possible that they are.

I get the temptation to seek an answer, though. I thought about it a lot at one point, particularly when I was younger and struggling to come to terms with an attraction to diapers. At this point, however, I feel more comfortable putting ABDL into the same category as other aspects of my personality: Results of a symphony of things that can never be replayed or retrospectively studied with any hope of accuracy. They sort of just 'are,' at this point. :shrug:
 

stinkape

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I can't remember my youngest year's, nothing before four years of age but severe spankings and hot sauceing was a favorite punishment of my parents.

After these punishments I would often find myself fantasizing about wearing diapers and being changed by someone caring , it was a coping mechanism I used to sooth my feelings and hurt .
It wasn't until I was in my mid to late twenties that I acted out on these long suppressed feelings and bought any actual adult size diapers and I was in complete heven .
Now married for 25 years and our children grown my wife will sometimes indulge me in my fantasies and often prefers me in diapers during sex so she can just get me off without intercourse so it saves her personal clean up .

It is what it all is and all we can do is learn how to accept our personal feelings and coping mechanisms ,It's something that most of us have dealt with most of our lives . I believe it is imprinted into our minds and feelings long before we had any memory of it so really its something we had no real control over .
 

littlemoosey

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i can't remember my youngest year's, nothing before four years of age but severe spankings and hot sauceing was a favorite punishment of my parents.

After these punishments i would often find myself fantasizing about wearing diapers and being changed by someone caring , it was a coping mechanism i used to sooth my feelings and hurt .
It wasn't until i was in my mid to late twenties that i acted out on these long suppressed feelings and bought any actual adult size diapers and i was in complete heven .
Now married for 25 years and our children grown my wife will sometimes indulge me in my fantasies and often prefers me in diapers during sex so she can just get me off without intercourse so it saves her personal clean up .

It is what it all is and all we can do is learn how to accept our personal feelings and coping mechanisms ,it's something that most of us have dealt with most of our lives . I believe it is imprinted into our minds and feelings long before we had any memory of it so really its something we had no real control over .

"hotsaucing" ?
 
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I wasn’t abused but I was raised by a very strict mother who did punish me and spank me. I have oftened wondered if growing up in this environment contributed to me being a very Submissive ABDL.
 

caitianx

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Though my experiences are different than yours, I can relate to many of your feelings and desires. For me it wasn’t a natural curiosity for diapers or being a little girl. I was raised back in the 40’s-50’s when it was believed humiliating a child was a better way to discourage bad behavior than physical punishment.

Being born out of wedlock, my mother placed me in foster care with a local farming family that took in several Boy boarders for extra income. They also had one child of their own, a girl about a year older than myself. It was at the hands of this foster mother I was often traumatized with emotional abuse. The first time was when I was 6, almost 7 years old. It was a warm, sunny morning and we boys were playing in the back yard. Suddenly I needed to use the bathroom. Not wanting to stop playing long enough to go inside, I relieved myself behind a tree.

The youngest boy, seeing me, ran inside and told the woman what I’d done. I was immediately called inside and though fearing a spanking, confessed my ill deed, I was told to get undressed. Though confused and thinking I was about to get a spankings, I began to remove my clothes while she went and called the other kids in and lined them up across the room. When I stopped out of embarrassment, she snapped, “I told you to get undressed and that means all of them. Now get your clothes off and that includes your shoes and socks.”

I was shaking now as I felt terrified at having to get naked in front of my peers especially her daughter. It wasn’t until I was removing my t-shirt that I heard her tell her daughter to go and get her a couple of the baby’s diapers and some diaper pins. Now knowing her intention, I screamed forgiveness with promises I’d never wet outdoors again. Quickly removing my t-shirt, she dragged me to the kitchen table while I kicked and screamed hysterically.

Pulling me up and onto my back, she struggled to hold me down while my foot hit her face, knocking her glasses off. She called the older boys over and ordered them to hold me down while she pulled my underpants off, leaving me totally exposed. Just then, her daughter returned and handed her the diapers. After refolding the diapers, she ordered the boys to lift me up while she slipped them under me. My whole world was spinning out of control as I felt the soft fabric being pulled up between my leg.

My eyes were so filled with tears I couldn’t see but blurred faces as I looked up and saw my playmates. Raising my head, I looked down just as she drew the second corners snug across my stomach and pinned me securely in my shameful garment. The moment the second pin was closed, I went limp and stopped fighting. It was as if my soul had just died and I was empty inside.

Sitting me up, she smiled victoriously while telling me, “Since you didn’t want to use the bathroom like a big boy, no you won’t have to. You can use your diapers as that is what they’re for.” Her words ripped into my physic as she lowered me to the floor and had me face the others while I tried to hide my condition with my hands.

“Put those hands behind your back so everyone can see what a baby you are.”, she demanded as I blindly obeyed. “Now look down at yourself and tell everyone what you’re wearing and why.” I could hardly speak as I mumbled her words while crying with humiliation. After having them point and call me a baby, she finally told everyone to return outside. She then turned to me and said, “You too!” I was horrified as I begged to stay inside. “Very well, then run along and play but don’t you dare try and remove those diapers until I say you can.”

I quickly went into the living room, feeling numb and surreal. I can’t remember much after that until later when she came and ordered me to lunch. My head was still in a trance like state as I followed her into the kitchen and saw the highchair pulled up to the table. “Get over here and climb in.”, she ordered sternly. Helping me up, she snapped the tray into place, effectively putting me on display to the others.

Though I was given a regular plate of food, she also placed a very large glass of milk on my tray, telling me I was to drink it all before I’d be allowed to get down. I was puzzled as to why such a large glass, not thinking of its future consequences. True to her words, I remained long after the others had returned outside. It wasn’t but an hour later when the milk took effect and I again needed to use the bathroom. I pleaded several times only to be told, “You didn’t want to use it before and so now you don’t have to as that is what your diapers are for.”

I was folding over with excruciating pain when I made one last desperate plea only to be warned not to bother her again or I’d be sent outdoors. Crying with painful cramps, I wandered off to a back room while clutching my groin in horror of further shame. It wasn’t but moments later when I felt the diapers growing wet around my fingers and I let go. I just stood frozen as I felt my pee fill the diapers and run down my legs to form a puddle around my bare feet.

Bursting into uncontrollable tears, my cries quickly brought the woman. “What have we here? Have you wet your diapers like a baby?”, she asked more to torment than as a question. “Now wasn’t that better than having to use the bathroom like a big boy?” I was delirious with humiliation as I begged to now have the diapers removed. “You wait right here until I return.”, she said as I tried to calm down with hopes this torment was almost over.

Several minutes later, I was called into the next room. Excited to finally have my diapers removed, I rushed into the next room only to see she had again gathered the other children to see what I’d done. Forcing me to stand in front of them, she ordered me to tell them what I did and that I was now a real baby. I was completely numb now and couldn’t speak as she told everyone I had wet my diapers just like a baby. She then grabbed my hand and dragged me to the front door.

“Let’s go show everyone else what a little baby you’ve become.” Opening the door, she shoved me out onto the front sidewalk so passing cars could also witness my humiliation. I was mortified and in shock as I stood dazed and empty of further feelings. Several minutes passed before she called me back inside. When I entered, she took my hand and led me over to the baby’s playpen. “We can’t have you running around in your wet diapers and soiling the furniture. You’ll have to stay in here until I have time to change you.” Helping me over the railing, she ordered me to sit down.

I felt my world had just been reduced to a few feet within the playpen as I watch her lead the others out of the room. I looked down at my wet diapers and started feeling I’d actually been turned into a real baby. Sitting there alone, I recalled how quickly my whole world had been changed from a single act of wetting outdoors. Exhausted from the day’s ordeal, I laid down and soon fell asleep.

It was mid-evening when I woke to the commotion of the other kids gathered around the playpen. They didn’t seem as scared as before and began to laugh and tease my infantile state. The oldest boys seemed to especially enjoy seeing me cry as they kept asking if Baby needed his diapers changed. My head was again swimming with renewed shame as I just sat there and helplessly bawled. The daughter was also looking down and smiling at my disgrace though she didn’t say anything.

Just then, her mother entered and told the boys to settle down. “You all run along now so I can change the baby.” Her words were both a relief that I’d soon be out of my wet diapers and dread of being put in more diapers. Helping me over the railing, she told me to follow her to her room. My heart was racing with the horror of having my diapers changed like a real baby. As we entered, I watched her retrieve some fresh diapers and place a plastic mat on the floor. She then ordered me to lay down.

I begged to please have my own clothes back only to be told these are my clothes. I stared at the ceiling as I felt her undo the pins and slip the wet diapers from under me. Cleaning me off with a damp cloth, she grabbed some baby powder and started sprinkling it over my groin. “This will help keep Baby dry and make you smell good too.”, she chuckled, obviously enjoying my degrading plight. I continued to plead for her to stop but she continued, determined to complete her task. Once again I felt the soft cotton material slip under me and being drawn snug between my legs.

I didn’t fight back this time as she finished pinning the diapers. “There we are, all cleaned up.” Standing me back up, she announced she had a little surprise for me. I couldn’t think as she went over to her bed and retrieved something laying on it. “Look what I have for baby so you don’t get cold.”, she gleamed with delight. My eyes quickly filled with fresh tears as she held up a short baby-doll gown of her daughter’s. It looked more like a baby dress than a night gown and I felt increased horror that she had found yet another item to shame me further.

I again started to shake as I cried for her to stop but she just slipped the gown over my head. I was surprised at how soft it felt though that didn’t lessen my horror at wearing it. Pulling it into place, she remarked how cute it made me look. She acted like a young girl dressing one of her dolls. The gown brought strange new sensations as I felt even more subdued and passive. As she pulled it into position, I had a dash of hope it might hide my diapers but it just came half way down.

“You look just adorable.”, she grinned as she admired her work. Let’s go show everyone how pretty you look in your new dress.” I was shaking so hard, I could hardly walk as she led me out to join the others. I was a mere empty shell now as I blindly did whatever she wanted. The moment we entered the room, everyone burst into laughter. It was like a party celebrating my new role as a baby girl. I was again placed in the playpen and giving one of the daughter’s dolls though I just tossed it aside.

I can’t remember what time it was, but it wasn’t bedtime yet when I again felt the call of nature and cried to use the bathroom. And once again I was told that is what my diapers were for. Knowing she was serious, I realized there was no hope of avoiding further humiliation so I just surrendered to my needs.

One of the boys noticed and called the others over to watch as I fought to stop but couldn’t. I was petrified and cried as I felt the now familiar wetness spreading between my legs. Everyone started chanting baby’s wetting his diapers again as I fell to my knees in total disgrace. A puddle formed on the plastic mat around my knees as I tried to move to a dryer area. It was hopeless so I just sat back down and felt it soak the bottom of my diapers.

“Looks like it’s a good thing our baby is wearing diapers.”, snickered the foster mother while everyone laughed. “Since it’s about time for bed, I’ll just wait until morning to change you. Maybe it will help you remember what it feels like to be a baby instead of using the bathroom like a big boy. Next time you’ll think twice before going behind a tree. Now lets get you to bed.” Leading me back to her room, she pointed over at the baby’s crib and told me I was to sleep in it for the night.

I couldn't help focus on my soggy, wet diapers as she helped me climb in and lay down. The hem of my gown was also wet and felt cold as it rode up my stomach. I felt horribly defeated and helpless as I laid there and reflected on the traumatic events of the day. I knew I would never forget every fearful moment of that day. Little did I know how much it was going to effect the rest of my life.

Because it brought some sort of pleasure to that woman, she repeated this form of discipline several more times over the next two years. On one occasion, when I was eight, I complained of being cold while in just diapers. To my dismay, she got one of her daughters baby-doll nightgowns and put it on me while chuckling, "This should keep you warm and still make changing you easy. But nothing was as traumatic as the first time I was diapered, possibly because I had surrendered and accepted it as my deserved punishment. For whatever the reason, I didn’t resist whenever she brought out the diapers for whatever unacceptable behavior.

Now, 70+ years later, I still get excited when I feel the soft cotton fabric drawn up between my legs and imagine that foster mother looking down at me and grinning while she pins me into my shame.

It may have not been uncommon for that type of punishment back then, but what she did to you is known as "diaper discipline", which is classified as Childhood Sexual Abuse.
It is a soul-crushing form of abuse.
 

ESPF

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Amy,
Not to sound like a total "know-it-all" but... What you're describing isn't a "fetish". A fetish is when some sort of object becomes related in someone's mind with the sex act. (I used to have a GF got totally turned on by the smell or feel of leather. Just my putting on my old leather jacket was enough to have her go totally horndog.) IF as you say, you fixation on diapers began at age five, I have serious droughts it has any deep congestion with your sexual arousal.
What you've described sound to me much more like an emotionally "crutch"?
But, either way, fetish or emotional crutch, it's perfectly fine.
It harms nobody, and gives you pleasure. And in the end... That's a purity good things.👍
 

littlemoosey

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I've told this story here before, but as it is a new thread exploring this cause/effect.

When I was very young, about 4, my older brother would play a game with me. If he could catch me, he would diaper me, if I could catch him, I could diaper him. Of course, I always lost, but it was fun. Not so much trauma there, and I already at that age liked diapers.

My mother however weaponized them as I grew older though. If ever I was crying, either by myself or in front of friends she would say "if you don't stop crying I am going to put diapers on you." That was somewhat mortifying in front of your male friends in the early 60's.

Down the line an event happened with my father where he had me crying, my mom said, "lets go, I am going to put diapers on you" as she grabbed my arm and drug me to her bedroom. She pushed me back onto her bed and pulled off my pajamas. I remember laying there naked, as she rooted around in the bathroom. At that point, I "WANTED HER TO PUT ME IN DIAPERS", I was already AB but just did not know it. To my consternation, she said she could not find any pins... damn.

These events along with lack of "5star" care from my older sisters are issues when I when I was younger, certainly played a major role in this unique aspect to my life.
 

sallyanne

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I am an Adult Baby due to childhood abuse and neglect by my Mom who was psychotic.
My childhood was a living hell.
I understand where you are coming from emotionally.
My inner child is permanently fused on the outside.
Anyway, I am 60 years-old and I have been an Adult Baby for half my life.

Wow have I just read an article for you! https://abdiscover.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/ab-identity-dl.pdf

it is all about inner child and inner parent. I understand there is a followup to the article coming soon.

- - - Updated - - -

I've told this story here before, but as it is a new thread exploring this cause/effect.

When I was very young, about 4, my older brother would play a game with me. If he could catch me, he would diaper me, if I could catch him, I could diaper him. Of course, I always lost, but it was fun. Not so much trauma there, and I already at that age liked diapers.

My mother however weaponized them as I grew older though. If ever I was crying, either by myself or in front of friends she would say "if you don't stop crying I am going to put diapers on you." That was somewhat mortifying in front of your male friends in the early 60's.

Down the line an event happened with my father where he had me crying, my mom said, "lets go, I am going to put diapers on you" as she grabbed my arm and drug me to her bedroom. She pushed me back onto her bed and pulled off my pajamas. I remember laying there naked, as she rooted around in the bathroom. At that point, I "WANTED HER TO PUT ME IN DIAPERS", I was already AB but just did not know it. To my consternation, she said she could not find any pins... damn.

These events along with lack of "5star" care from my older sisters are issues when I when I was younger, certainly played a major role in this unique aspect to my life.

I read so many stories of early days for ABDLs and they all have a lot of similarities. I wrote a book about mine and it was very cathartic.
 

littlemoosey

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littlemoosey

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I just read this article, although the classic medical/psychological approach to being AB is still somewhat frustrating to read. There is at least a glimmer of hope for those seeking therapy with the "ROGERIAN" trained therapist.

Personally, I have not and will not pursue the therapy route. The acceptance of my wife and by extension the self-acceptance of this "unique" aspect of my personality, and the support of this community has meant the world to me. For the first time in my life, I feel good about all of this, still perplexed as to the whys sometimes, but good... I am diapered, nurtured and happy.
 
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Sounds exactly like my evil mommy. Dearest. She cursed at me every day
She also found my used diapers in the backyard trash. In a big black garbage bag. She taunted me and screamed at me saying I want to be a f'n baby huh?. I hate my mother. Love yourself. Hate your mom. You are so safe in this community. Welcome. I am 44 yo female biracial.

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