An expedition into my life as an ABDL
Introduction
This series of write-ups was inspired by some journal posts a good friend of mine shared with me. After reading them, I decided I should document my own personal journey as a lifelong ABDL.
I’ve shared parts of my story on some of my online profiles, but I’ve never put down the story of my journey all in one place. I don’t think I am going to hold anything back. Even though this description isn’t overly graphic or sexual in nature (I’ll save that for another article), some portions of this series might squick some people. Please proceed with caution. I am not sure how this will end up, but I guess I need to start somewhere so grab a juicebox and I’ll get started…
In the beginning
I’ve had an affinity for diapers as far back as I can remember. I was 3 or 4 years old. I think they were just comfort or an escape. I say escape, but from what, I am not sure; I had a good childhood.
Thinking back, I did grow up pretty fast, but since this goes so far back, I don’t think that’s the reason. I have recently come to accept that I was just born this way.
I don’t really care about the origins of my kink so much any more. I’ve stopped getting hung up on that part and started redirecting my efforts to just trying to accept me as…me.
That said, I’m not sure I will ever fully accept this part of me, but after more than thirty years on this planet I’ve made more strides on this journey in the last two years than at any other point in my life. But hold on, I’m getting ahead of myself.
My first memory of my diaper fascinations were very early on. I remember being at my babysitter’s house. She lived a few houses down from us and watched several kids of all ages.
At this point, I was already potty trained but I somehow knew exactly where she kept the diapers. I do not recall how I figured that out, but I was infatuated with those diapers. The extra diapers were kept in the bathroom on the main level of the large 3 story home.
The bathroom was located just between the side entry and the kitchen, on the main level. It was about 10 feet x 10 feet with a heavy white wooden door with a small black antique lock. Behind the door was a small alcove with a towel rack and a large trash bin with a lid (for diapers). The walls were painted a muted yellow-green color. The matching wooden built-in sink vanity was on the far wall and spanned the whole wall. The vanity had large wooden knobs on the doors that kind of stuck from the paint when you opened them. This was the main bathroom that all the daycare kids used.
I remember going in to that bathroom and opening the lower left-hand cabinet door of that light yellow-green sink vanity just to look at the stash of diapers while I was sitting on the potty.
I won’t lie, I usually spent extra time in the bathroom just so I could be in the same room with the diapers.
I don’t recall ever touching any of the diapers or taking one from the supply. I was way too scared I would be “outed” if I so much as touched one. Even then, I knew this wasn’t expected behavior for a potty trained kid.
Looking back now, it would have been pretty easy to put one on, wet it, and dispose of it in the large garbage behind the door. Unless the sitter was keeping meticulous diaper inventory, I doubt anyone would have ever known.
I have always been a well behaved kid and my fear of being caught overcame the desire to touch, take, or use one of the diapers.
My heart would race every time I opened the vanity door just to look at them. They smelled amazing! Even today when I walk down the baby aisle at a store (yes, I do that; it makes “my little” happy) and I catch a whiff of that diaper scent it takes me back to that bathroom, even thirty years later.
The memory of me looking at – no, longing for – the diapers in that vanity was one of the most intense emotional feelings I can recall as a kid.
I wanted to wear a diaper so bad. It consumed my thoughts nearly every time I used the bathroom or laid down for a nap while at that babysitter’s house. Despite my deep seated diaper desires, it wouldn’t be until nine or ten years later before I would actually wear a diaper again.
Now even though I wouldn’t wear a diaper again until many years later, I did improvise. I frequently wore several pairs of underwear.
There were times where I would put on as many pairs of underwear as I could and would sit on the toilet and purposely wet my pants until the underwear were so soaked that they were dripping into the toilet.
Thinking back on that now, I don’t know why my parents never said anything to me about this.
But kudos to me for being smart enough to be somewhat neat about it, soaked underwear notwithstanding. I do wonder what in the world my parents thought, if anything, about folding ten or more pairs of underwear in each load of laundry. Even more perplexing, why did I even have that many pairs of underwear anyway?
This diaper improvisation would continue off and on for several more years…
In my next post, I will talk about how one surprise diaper discovery was a pretty major moment for me.
What are your earliest memories of ABDL, ageplay or diapers? I’d love to hear your experiences in the comments below!
If you would prefer, you can use the Contact Rex page to send a message to me privately.
Hugs and crinkles,
Rex (BelovedRex)
I love your blog. Your writing is clear and well organized. I feel like I’m getting to know you in more depth and I can really connect intellectually and emotionally. Thank you for putting this up here for all of us.