Anyway, writing this has been so therapeutic for me. I am very happy how it turned out. This story, I feel, is different of many others out there. I like to think that at least. It took a great amount of effort and love, but I am very happy to share it with you.
I am posting it under a pen-name, which is actually a variation of my real name. I wish I was confident enough to post it with my real name, but you know... I don't want to jeopardize my professional life.
This story is 28K words long, divided in 13 chapters. I am going to post 3 chapters a day, because I really want to read your feedback, thoughts and opinions! Please enjoy!!
Carter Blake and Robin Bailey were best friends. Eighteen year olds high-school seniors, and very different from each other, and yet, super close. Carter thought he knew everything about Robin, but he has had his suspicions that something is going on with his best friend. He's keeping a secret he refuses to share with anyone.
Robin always thought he could keep his secret desire to be babied and wear diapers like that, a secret. But he's not happy like that. Sometimes, the shame of it all doesn't let him breathe at ease. However, his fears come true as his family and best friend discover what he's been keeping so private.
A series of events will show everyone involved that the only way to break through life is with one powerful concept: Unconditional Love.
Who We Are
The drops fall on me as I feel the warm water soothe my body in the most comforting and relaxing way.
I close my eyes as I let it tingle down my body, running from my hair down to my chest, my arms, my thighs and legs. The water is always my friend, and it always makes me feel better. I’ve heard my mom said countless times that I am part-mermaid. I think my dad once joked that they weren’t my real parents, that they found me in a basket floating in the ocean, that the waves brought me from Atlantis and delivered me to them. That I was a child of the sea.
When I was small I used to take pride on that story. I would tell all my friends at school that I was adopted and that I was a merchild, that I was born in the ocean and that I came from another world. It was until I broke my arm one day and they had to take tests on me that I discovered that my DNA matched my parents and I was indeed their son.
No Atlantis secret origin for me.
It’s not like I truly believed I was a merchild, but I still think it’s funny. When I joined the swim team as I started high school, no one was surprised. I came home with the excited grin and proud smile and said. “Mom, Dad, I joined the swim team!”
They just rolled their eyes.
That’s how badly I loved water. Hell, when I played Pokémon, I swear I always captured Water type. That’s how much I loved it. Anyway, this is not really about my love for water, I’m just saying how much being under the shower helps me clear my head. I have a great day ahead and I just don’t want to go all stressed out.
I close the water and step out of the shower, gabbing my towel and drying myself off. First my hair and then my body. I get into my room, which as always is filled with trophies and medals of my swim competitions, a couple of posters of my favorite movies and my bookshelf. Whoever thought athletes don’t read is dead wrong. I love to read.
Walking to my dresser, I pick a pair of boxers and put them on. My mom has the worst habit of never knocking when she comes into my room and the last thing I want is her to see me naked. It happened once. It was awkward.
Once I had jeans and a very formal blue shirt, I combed my hair. I have style. Hell, I have swag.
My shoes on, I walk out of the room feeling a little bit nervous. Today was Dove’s award ceremony and I was very anxious for her. I mean, I know it’s not normal to feel this kind of nervousness for someone else, but I know how hard she worked to get this prize and I am really hoping she gets it. She deserves it.
I walked into the kitchen. Mom and Dad were gone for the day already. Mom was a lawyer, and she was dealing with tough cases lately. I try not to get involved in her job so much, because as a lawyer, she has to deal with several very tragic and gruesome stories. She always defends the people who she thinks they’re innocent, and that is awesome. However, it is a fight for justice and good and evil which I like to stay out of.
I don’t need more drama in my life. Not when Graduation is coming and I’m supposed to be all “cheery, cheery, happy, happy.”
Dad is a psychologist. And he loves it. However, it gets annoying when he tries to therapize me. I mean, I know he’s very into the workings of the mind and behavior and healing activities but come on! I’m his son, not his patient! Still, he’s an awesome person, and I know he never wants to make me uncomfortable. That’s just how he is.
Quickly, I see a note Mom left at the fridge. “Breakfast at the Baileys’. Love you. XOXO.”
I smile. Mom usually leaves breakfast for me, but a chance to have breakfast with the Baileys is always good.
Without thinking much, I grab my smartphone and stock it in my pocket, then my wallet on my other pocket, and rush toward the house next door.
The moment I walk into the Bailey’s house, I feel the scent of scrambled eggs with Spanish sausage hit my nostrils, making me salivate. I can also hear Mrs. Bailey squishing some oranges to make fresh orange juice. I smile as I walk into the kitchen and see her in full Cook Mode. Her red hair is tied on a ponytail, and her sleeves are folded back above her shoulders. For a forty-five year old housewife, she looks pretty badass as she squishes those oranges.
She sees me, her green eyes showing me so much emotion. “Carter! You’re here! I wasn’t expecting you for another half an hour!”
I smile warmly at her. “Well, you know I am an early bird. Do you need help with those oranges, Mrs. Bailey?”
She shakes her head. “Naw, Carter. You know I’m a tough cookie. Why don’t you go wake Robin up?”
I can’t help but raise an eyebrow. “He’s not up yet?”
“Nope,” says Mrs. Bailey as she sighs defeated. “He kept chatting online till 1 AM! I didn’t even know he was still up until I walked past his room and saw the lights on. Had to send him to bed.”
I roll my eyes. “Can’t believe him. His sister is getting an award and he’s still sleeping.”
Mrs. Bailey nods in agreement. “Yeah. Dove left around one hour ago. Had to be there early for the preparations of the ceremony. I wish her brother was more proactive when it comes to be a responsible person!”
“That’s Robin for you,” I say with a smirk. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Bailey. I’ll give him a proper good morning wake up call.”
Without waiting for a reply, I rush upstairs and head toward Robin’s room. I know he’s a deep sleeper, so he’s probably so deeply asleep he won’t hear me come in. I swear an earthquake could happen, meteors would rain down the sky and floods would drown the city underwater and he’d sleep through it all.
Me? The mere sound of a buzzing fly is enough to wake me up.
I slowly creep into his room, his door is never squeaky and I’ve known how to be silent as a ninja. Man, I could really try a career at ninja-ing. Is there such a thing?
The moment I’m inside his room, the first thing I see is his messy desk, full of novels he loves to read and re-read. Like me, he’s an avid reader. There is another shelf next to his desk that is full of CDs and movies. Yeah, we’re in the 2010’s and he still loves to collect physical editions of music and films. He has superhero posters all over the walls.
His room is quite interesting, but it would be so much better if it didn’t stink of dirty socks. The boyish smell is all around the place. It’s not bad, I like his smell. Or maybe I’ve gotten used to it. Funny smells are kind of always floating around his room.
I creep deeper into his room and I see him.
I am about to howl like a wolf to wake him up, but I stop myself when my eyes fall upon him.
There he is, Robin Bailey, curled under his sheets, his red hair messy and tussled. I can’t help but smile, because the babyish gurgling leaves his mouth like a song to the world. His right arm was cuddling Rhino, his plush toy. Which, yes, is a rhino. His left thumb is plopped into his mouth, and he’s sucking it calmly, looking innocent. His fingers balled into a fist, his index finger above his nose. I know, Robin is eighteen years old, he shouldn’t do that, right?
I don’t understand it either, to be honest.
He’s been a thumbsucker, always. It took him two full years after we met for him to be comfortable to tell me about it. I was thirteen at the time when he came to me and his face was red as his hair when he confessed he slept with a plushy and sucked his left thumb. He said that’s the reason why he never slept over.
After five minutes of teasing him merciless, I told him that it was okay. It was funny, but it fit his personality so well, and it wouldn’t change a thing. And with me knowing, we could finally have fun sleepovers. Because there is something that is certain.
He is my best friend.
He’ll always be my best friend. No matter what.
So yeah, he’s an eighteen year old sucking his thumb and cuddling his plushy. I can’t help but feel a stupid grin form in my face as I watch him. Is it wrong to think he looks endearing? Adorable?
Trying to be as quiet as I can, I take out my smartphone and pull the camera app. I quickly take a picture of him. Part of me wants to use it as blackmail material, but I know deep inside that it will always be a reminder of how special he is.
Once I pull the smartphone away with a smirk, I finally howled.
My throat let out a wolf-like cry, and Robin literally jumped.
He sat up, jerking his thumb off his mouth and looking around with a deeply panicked state. “What the hell?! What’s going on!?”
I break into mad laughter. Seriously. The expression of terror on his face is priceless. As my laughs fill the room, I can see him frown.
“That was so uncool, dude!” he says with a scowling face. “One of these days you’re going to give me a heart attack! Who’s going to help you with your homework then?!”
I shrug, wiping a couple of tears of my eyes. “Sammy. She’s way smarter than you, anyway.”
He pouts. Literally.
I grab Rhino from the bed and push it against his face. I speak with a mocking voice. “Aw, don’t pout little boy! Rhino doesn’t want little Rob to pout!”
He rolls his eyes and pulls Rhino from my hands. “You’re impossible.”
I smile and grab his hand and pull him off bed. “Yes I am. And you’re a lazy ass. You should be ready. Your sister is getting an award today and you’re still in your pajamas. Not cool dude!”
Robin then smirks at me with a teasing look. “Aw, come on. Don’t pretend I don’t notice. You have the hots for my sister. That’s why you’re so pushy!”
After those words leave his mouth, I feel myself blushing madly. Yeah, he is right. I’ve had an infatuation for Dove for a year now. She’s two years younger than us, so when I met her, I thought she was this little girl I could develop a brotherly bond for. But in time, I realized that I was falling in love with her. As she grew up and matured, I could see myself with her. Her body blossomed, and her features became perfect.
And she was so smart and sweet and funny. I had fallen in love with the girl next door, who turned out to be my best friend’s sister. I think that troupe is on the cliché book, somewhere.
I pretend to cough. “Not true.”
“Course you don’t,” Robin laughs. “You know I don’t mind, right? I mean, if another guy our class was lusting after my younger sister, I would probably go berserk and beat them to a pulp. But you’re you. I trust you.”
I can’t help but smile a bit. “Thank you, Rob.”
There is something I can’t deny.
Robin and Dove Bailey are the people I love the most in this world.
Many guys my age can’t say such a thing. Many of them don’t know what to do with their college careers, or after Graduation. Hell, some can’t even tell what they want for breakfast. But if someone was to ask me who are the people I love the most were, I could answer this without hesitation. It’s not my parents or my favorite cousins.
It’s Robin and Dove. No brainer.
I’d do anything for them. I love them to death.
“Well,” I say after a good solemn silence. “Get dressed already, damn it! In fact, take a shower! You stink dude, seriously.”
Robin rolls his eyes and starts undressing in front of me.
We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times. I was raised with this ideal that men shouldn’t shy their privates from other men. It took Robin a bit to get used to this openness and trust, but eventually he got used to me seeing him without underwear. I mean, it’s not weird. We’re both boys, so that’s totally fine.
As he got stark naked, he grabbed a towel and kicked his clothes to the dirty clothes basket. He entered the bathroom, sticking his tongue to me like a little kid before closing the door.
I sat on his bed, a small smirk on my face.
Robin really is my best friend.
“Are you seriously not going to comb your hair or anything?”
I ask Robin as he puts a forkful of scramble eggs into his mouth and starts chewing. With a full mouth, he just shakes his head. Then he speaks without really swallowing. “I’m not the one who wants to woo her. I already live with her.”
I roll my eyes in defeat.
Robin has, as usual, let his messy hair wild, still a bit damp from his shower. He cleaned up nicely, wearing some brown jeans and a green shirt for his sister’s ceremony. But his hair is still inappropriately messy. Doesn’t matter what any of us says, though, he loves parading around with those red locks pointing everywhere. Not that it really matters at all.
He may not have my swag, but he does look amazing.
I’m the strong muscular guy at school. I’m slender but I have very well built muscles that every girl is lusting after, and every guy wants to have. As a result of years of swimming, I have an amazing body. And I don’t want to brag, but I really am handsome. My cheekbones and jaw structure, plus my haircut, makes me look really good. I’ve never had problems with esteem because I’ve always been quite a handsome. Yes, it does make me a bit vain and drives me to wear cool clothes.
Robin, however, is always wearing the first thing he finds on his closet. His hair is always messy, and he’s nowhere as muscular as me. He is slim. Not skinny at all, but he does not have the muscles I do, or the strong features. But he has a babyish face that everyone loves, and his clear green eyes are full of brightness. Robin is really good looking too, and everyone loves that.
I’m slightly taller than him, but Robin is quite tall himself.
Many people are still trying to warp their head about us. About our friendship.
I mean, I am the swim team guy who loves to wear cool clothes and parade in school as if I own it. I’m not a bullying jock, no, I’m a good person. But I like to get attention. I like to go on parties, get drunk and do stupid shit. Not because I want to start a scene, but because I really do enjoy it. I’m quite extrovert.
Robin, on the other hand, is the opposite. He never gets in trouble, is always reading or listening to music, walking on the hallways with a low-profile. He is friendly, and is always funny, but he also likes to keep to himself. He’s a good team player, but also likes to let me take leadership. He’s an introvert.
So many people are always raising their eyebrows about how we can be best friends, being so different.
How can I ever explain to them?
Robin and I have so much in common. We’re both Potterheads who have read all eight books of Harry Potter (plus Fantastic Beasts), watched all films straight in marathon, and also dress up like dementors on Halloween. Robin and I share a love for bad romantic comedy movies, and we read comics a lot. He’s a DC fan though, while I prefer Marvel. But it always leads to friendly debates.
Robin is the guy who I’ve gone to the beach with, or camping. Shared the best moments, and the worst.
Yeah, at first it was hard to find a common ground, but in time we came to love one another. He’s the guy who took me to a hard rock concert even though I like pop. I’m the guy who forced him to try out for the soccer team even if he hates it. We always push the other to be better, and that’s what it is all about.
And I’m the first one he came out to.
As I watch him devour his breakfast, I eat slowly mine and I think about that time, last year, when he told me he considered himself bisexual.
I knew he was hiding something back then. Whenever people asked him when he’d get a girlfriend, he would get nervous and avoid the questions. No one really noticed or cared but me. When I confronted him about it, he looked down and his eyes teared up.
He told me he had a crush on Chris Lakes, another guy at school.
I was dumbstruck, and he started shaking. He confessed that he liked girls, but he also liked guys and it’s always been the case. He turned around to run away, but I just grabbed his wrist and pulled him into a hug.
I told him the truth. I didn’t care.
He could be bisexual or gay or whatever and I’d still love him.
His family was raised with a very Catholic upbringing, and he was scared to tell them. But I supported him, and encouraged him. We both knew deep down that his parents were crazy about him, and they’d love him no matter what.
One week later, he came out to them, and they were super supportive. They were shocked, but they were cool. It took them a while to get used to the idea of their son liking guys, or they idea that there was a possibility he could marry another man.
But in time, they were alright with it.
That night, Robin came over and told me that he couldn’t have done it without me. He pulled me into a bone crushing hug and told me how I was the most amazing person on the planet. I just told him one thing in return.
“No, I’m not the most amazing person on the planet. You are.”
That’s how our friendship is.
I never take the time to explain that to anyone. I couldn’t. All I know is that even if were do look like we belong to different worlds, this huge sensitive and emotional dork is my best friend.
Nothing will ever change that.
“Hey boys,” says Mrs. Bailey as she picks up her purse. “I think we should get going. Parking is going to be full and I definitely want the best seats!”
Robin stands up and puts his plates on the dishwasher. “Yeah, we should get going.”
I look at them with a smile. “I’ll drive if you want.”
Mrs. Bailey nods with a smile. “That would be good, Carter.”
Robin pales, however. “No, Mom! He’s going to kill us! He always thinks he’s Toretto in a Fast & Furious movie!”
“Shut up, dork,” I say with a laugh.
Then we go out to the car, ready to find Dove and see her receive the award.
“I am so proud of you, little sister!”
Robin says with a huge grin as he embraces Dove with such affection. I smile fondly at that, seeing that redhaired girl hold her diploma with her small, delicate hands. I can’t help but feel such a surge of pride myself, because I was one of the people who helped her achieve that. Robin, Dove and I would spend hours researching and helping her craft her paper that won her this distinction. It was a collective effort, she is the face of it.
Dove kisses Robin in the cheek. “I couldn’t have done it without you two.”
Then she turns to me with a smile that turns me into goo. He long hair is loose, dressed so nicely as she looks at me with a huge smile. She is wearing a black skirt, a white dress shirt and a black jacket that matches. Her make up is just perfect. I think my heart skipped a couple of beats, maybe more than just a couple.
“Thank you too, Carter,” says Dove with a smile as she hugs me.
I hug her back, and for some reason, I don’t want to let go as I inhale her scent. Her perfume is so sweet and nice, and I know she’s so great.
Dove was always a very smart girl. She was the most clever and mature girl. Even when she was nine, she was always ahead of other girls. And she never really took into dresses and dolls so much, she was more focused in learning stuff about the world. By the time she was thirteen, she had excelled in school and made an amazing article about terrorism in Europe, and how we should not generalize and condemn all Muslim communities just because a couple were extremists.
By fourteen, she was volunteering for organizations that helped Muslims victims of hate crime, black people who were victims of racism, and other minorities and misunderstood communities. And then, last year, after Robin came out, she was all about LGBT rights. She was the first one to tell her brother that he was perfect the way he was.
So yeah, no surprise that now that she’s sixteen, she’s in the United Nations model, won an award on it, and set on a career on politics and International Relations.
“Okay, so, what are we going to do to celebrate?” asks Mr. Bailey as he puts hand over his daughter’s shoulders. “I was thinking we could go to that restaurant you love, right, Dove?”
Dove smiles at her father. “Thanks Dad, it would be great.”
As we all walked to the car, I could feel Robin pull me from the arm with a complete doofus smirk.
“You are so in love with her,” he says with a snicker. “You’re so obvious, man.”
I could feel my face blushing. He’s right. I’m not doing a great job concealing my crush. “Well, at least her big brother is not going to give me a hard time.”
“I don’t know,” says Robin with a grin. “I think her big brother is starting to reconsider.”
With a laugh, I feel Robin put an arm around my shoulder, walking in a half hug.
That’s Robin, always seeking for physical contact and affection. He’s always been like that. He’s always craving for hugs or pats in the back and shoulder. He so touchy-feely. I myself had never been like that, I always liked to keep distance, but I always make an exception for him.
“And then I told the Delegate of Venezuela, “you’re either very unintelligent or very evil if you think Nicholas Maduro’s regime is not a dictatorship that stomps over human rights”,” says Dove as she tells us about the last debate. She speaks so confident and so proud of herself, and I know that she’s always a fierce warrior when it comes to defending her point of view.
As we continue eating, I keep looking at Dove with a smile.
Yeah, I’m that obvious.
As we continued the chat, Dove would lean forward to me. “It was quite a victory, but I owe much of to you, Carter.”
I can’t help but smile. “Always happy to help.”
“You know, I think I’m ready for a grown up life,” says Dove as she winks at me. “I know I still have two years of high school left, but for some reason, all this experience with global affairs has made me eager to face the world.”
I grab my glass of lemonade and hold it up. “To growing up.”
“To growing up,” she says as she grabs her own piña colada and clanks her glass with mine. “To a bright adult life full of adventure.”
As we smile at each other, I hear Robin clear his throat.
We both turn to him, and I can see some sense of discomfort on my best friend’s face. It is a small, almost unnoticeable scowl that would have been amiss by anyone who don’t know him. But I know Robin very well, and I can see there is something weird going on with him.
“I’m going to take some fresh air,” says Robin suddenly, his face full of a mixture of awkwardness and discomfort. “It’s very stuffy in here.”
Without saying much, Robin pulls his chair back and stands up, putting his serviette in the table and walking out of the restaurant before the main course has even been served.
We all look at him surprised.
“Okay, that was weird,” says Dove with concern as she watches her older brother walk away. “Is it wrong to say I’m worried?”
Mrs. Bailey looks down, with concern all written in her face. “I’ve talked to his therapist, Dr. Jones, and he says Robin seems to be doing mostly fine. But clearly something is still off.”
Mr. Bailey remains silent, but his face tells us he’s concerned as well.
Me? I just see my best friend walk away.
Around one year ago, Robin said he wanted to see a therapist. He said that he needed some professional help, because he’s been having issues. At first we all thought it was his sexuality and coming to terms with it. His parents were understanding and paid for the therapist, and Robin has a session twice a month.
I actually recommended my dad, but Robin said it would be weird to tell his secrets to his best friend’s dad. Quite logical. So my dad recommended a close friend of his.
Yet, despite the fact that Robin is cheerful and funny most times, there are some instances where he acts weird.
For example, I would invite him over whenever his family had some things to do out of town and left him the house, but Robin would decline and say he wanted to stay home alone. Sometimes he would even pretend to be sick just to get some time for himself. We all know he’s been lying and hiding something, but none of us have the slightest clue of what that could be.
We thought he was having identity issues because he is still figuring out his major, or that he’s still struggling with being bisexual and being out.
But we all know there is something else.
“It’s like he’s always holding his breath,” says Dove with a sad tone of voice. “It’s like sometimes he’s having trouble breathing.”
I nod. And it kills me.
My best friend is being burdened by something.
Something so personal and private that he refuses to share with anyone, not even me.
And all I want to do is help him.
How do I do that?
“Are you sure you’re okay, baby?”
Mom says with such a tender voice, and the way she calls me “baby” kills me. Because she doesn’t know how accurate she is to my deepest desires. She doesn’t know how that pet name strikes so many weird feelings on my heart and sets my mind on a ramble. She’s always so tender with me, more than Dove, and it always makes me feel fidgety and anxious and very out of my mind. It’s super weird.
I nod with a smile. “Yeah, Mom. I’m alright. I slept very late last night, I think I’ll hit the hay early today.”
Mom nods, but says nothing more before leaning forward and placing a small kiss on my forehead. That’s my mother. Always so full of love and tenderness even when she’s a badass and a very strong woman. She always has time to shower her children with affection, love, and to make sure they are alright.
But I’m not alright.
I know everyone is worried about me. I act strange sometimes. I keep hiding such a big part of myself, it’s driving me crazy. I can’t breathe properly, not in a literal way, but in a very figurative and bothersome way. Have you ever had such a burden in your shoulders you can’t be yourself? Have you ever felt that being truthful to your own person could bring shame to yourself and to others that are close to you?
I feel like that, every single day.
And that’s because there is something big that I’ve been keeping secret. There is some side of myself that no one in my life knows, because if they did, they would be disgraced and I would be thought of as a creep. There is a side of myself that pressures my chest so much, so strong, that I sometimes I feel like I’m out of air.
I get short of breath.
Once Mom is out of my way, leaving me in my room for the rest of the night, I lock the door. I really, really don’t want anyone to come in. Not now. Not for the rest of the night. I just want to have a chance to unwind and be myself, even if I have to hide behind the four walls that are my room. Even if I have to shy away from the world.
Slowly, I unbutton my shirt and throw it aside, and then I slowly unbutton my pants and remove them. I throw all those clothes aside, standing just in my underwear. I didn’t even realize how constricted I felt with those clothes. Grown up clothes, definitely not a fan.
Trying to be a silent as I can, wearing only my underwear, I quickly open my drawer and remove it, revealing a secret compartment that I discovered not long ago. Well, not quite a secret compartment, more like a hole where I can hide things and no one would see them or even look for them.
With my heart thumping, with my anxiousness rising, I put my hand inside my “secret compartment” and grab something. A plastic and cushioned item that is so soft on my hand, so puffy and with a power to be comforting even in my hands.
I take it out and put it next to me as I fix the drawer.
With closed eyes and a beating heartbeat, I look at the item I just snatched from it’s secret lair.
An adult diaper.
Why would an eighteen year old be wearing diapers? Why would he be hiding them from his family and everyone?
Does he have bedwetting issues?
The answer is simple, and yet, at the same time, is so fucking complex that no one has really been able to understand the true nature.
I like wearing diapers.
That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, eighteen year old Robin Bailey likes to wear diapers. And that’s not even the tip of the iceberg.
I like to pretend I’m a baby.
Yes, it’s getting crazier by the minute, isn’t it?
I guess I can’t really explain when this all began. It’s been etched on my mind as far as I can remember. In fact, all I know is that even in my earliest memories, all I ever wanted was to wear diapers and be a baby. I remember it vividly. I think my earliest memory was when I was five years old or something like that.
All my cousins were so eager to be big boys. They wanted to play cars and superheroes, they liked to play ball and stuff like that. Me? I always liked playing House with my girl cousins. I always liked to be the baby. I guess that’s the earliest evidence of my desires. A five year old that wants to be diapered and babied still should be just a small phase, something they’d outgrow in short time and embrace their big boy-ness.
But it didn’t go away.
As I was growing up, from kindergarten to grade school, I would always be fantasizing of being diapered and babied.
I always managed to put those thoughts to the back of my mind, though. I managed to keep them at bay, and sometimes I’d even forget my desires. But when I turned fourteen, they returned with such a strong force. And that’s when I realized that something was definitely wrong with me. Something was off, something wasn’t right.
I was fourteen, I shouldn’t feel like this.
But I did.
I tried to make sense of it. I asked my parents, with subtlety, about my babyhood. But it seems that nothing was out of the ordinary. I was potty trained at a normal age, and I was always a pretty common and regular baby who was raised properly. So it did not made sense on why I would feel like this. There was no evidence of this.
I mean, I still sucked my thumb and slept with Rhino.
My parents tried to get me off my thumb and my plushy, but they realized that there were far worse things in the world so they just let me be. Maybe it was my thumbsucking that slowly drove me to feel like this. Truth is, I don’t know. But even though I get physical pleasure sucking my thumb, in time I started to feel also some sort of emotional and mental peace.
Babies sucked their thumbs. I sucked my thumb. Therefore, I was a baby.
That idea gave me peace.
But it also freaked me out.
Of course, by the time I was fifteen, I Googled it. I mean, maybe the Internet had some answers. Maybe it could tell me what was so wrong with me. Maybe it had the answer to fix me so I could feel like a normal person.
But what I found was so much more.
I stumbled into forums, websites, blogs. I found myself facing a whole community of people who feel the same way I did. I found myself with a world that’s been under our nose all the time and no one really noticed.
There were people all ages, male and female, gay and straight, all nationalities and cultures that had the same desires as me.
The Adult Baby / Diaper Lover community.
Suddenly I had a label. I was an Adult Baby. It all made so much sense after reading some stories online, after learning there were so many people who understood me. I felt so much relief, because I knew right then that I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t the only weirdo who wanted to regress to babyhood and wear diapers.
They were all different too.
Some liked to pretend they were toddlers, others wanted to be babies, others liked to pretend they were little kids. Some liked to just wet their diapers, others weren’t bothered by the idea of pooping in them. Some didn’t even use them at all. Some liked to be babied by others, some did it by themselves in privacy. I was stunned by the diversity. Even in my weirdness, there were a lot of degrees to that weirdness.
After that, when I was sixteen, I got the courage to go to the store and buy some diapers.
I was panicking when I first went to the register, carrying a bag of adult diapers. I thought it was evident they were for me, but I came to realize no one really cared. Paid them and rushed home after making sure no one was home.
The first time I put on a diaper, I seriously felt so much relief I wanted to cry. It was like my deepest burning long time desire was being fulfilled.
Wearing diapers definitely made me happy.
Okay, so, let’s fast forward to this moment.
I quickly turn to my doorknob to make sure the lock is on. I close the drawer and quickly remove my underwear. I throw my boxers into the basket and grab a bottle of baby powder I keep on my nightstand. I told my parents I get prickly heat, so they think I use the powder to deal with mild heat rashes.
I lay the diaper over my bed and then drop my butt on it.
Leaning back, I quickly sprinkle baby powder generously over my privates. It feels heavenly, the powder is so cool and refreshing against my skin. Its scent fills my nose and it brings me back in time, makes me feel truly like a baby who is getting changed. I close my eyes for a moment and relish on the scent for a couple of seconds.
Finally, I pull the diaper’s front above my privates, and start taping the sides.
I make sure the diaper is properly taped, snug against my legs. It feels awesome. I sit up and feel the puffy undergarment hug my lower body and it’s so beautiful. These diapers are called Abena M4. I got them at a special pharmacy, and they are super thick and puffy, and they really make me feel like a baby. They crinkle a bit, but I don’t think my family can hear them.
I quickly put my pajama pants over my diaper.
I walk into my bathroom and brush my teeth, feeling the protection of my diaper all the time. Finally, I slid into the covers of my bed and hug Rhino.
Maybe I don’t get the chance to be a baby, but this is the closest I’ll ever be, so I enjoy it. I value it. I don’t take it for granted.
Feeling the thickness of my diaper, I pull Rhino closer to my chest and snuggle it with so much love. He’s the only one who knows about this. He accepts me. With a sigh, I put my thumb into my mouth and ball my fist.
I start sucking my thumb, hugging my plushy, wearing my diaper.
Before I know it, I’m fast asleep.
The next morning, I can hear the chirping sound of birds singing their song to the world.
The sunlight pools though my curtains, letting me know it is a new day.
My eyes slowly flutter open, and I feel my senses start to regain some power. I am so comfortable in bed, wearing my diaper, sucking my thumb, being a fraction of the baby I want to be. I makes me smile because I am so happy right now. Even if I scarcely get these moments, they are enough to replenish my energy.
I quickly stretch, and the first thing that I feel is the pressure on my bladder.
I need to pee. Like every morning.
Of course, any normal person would get up and use the toilet. But I am wearing a diaper, and I enjoy feeling this. I close my eyes and try to relax my bladder for release. Many people would think pissing themselves is disgusting, and yeah, if I was wearing pants it would be hassle to deal with.
But I’m a baby, right now, this morning. And babies wet their diapers.
Before I know it, I feel myself peeing. I feel the warmth of it spreading within my diaper, from my crotch to my butt. I feel my diaper getting soggy and squishy, but it will definitely hold. I can’t help but grin madly as I feel the heaviness of my wet diaper. It’s comforting. It’s awesome.
I am a baby.
I lay in bed again, pulling my thumb into my mouth again and relishing on this feeling.
Maybe I’m weird. Maybe I’m crazy. But right now, I feel at peace.
I feel more myself than ever.