Diapers Only

they’re so incredibly cute and also make me waddle just a bit (and that’s when they’re still completely dry 😬😬)

Since you asked so nicely, yes, you have my permission to use the bathroom.

Life has been busy and I’ve been scarce on Tumblr. Sorry to all of you whose messages I’ve been slow to return! Part of my absence has been a [longer-than-usual] streak of shame about this kink. I know we all deal with it.

ABDL is in direct conflict with so many of our inherent—and inherited—toxic personality traits. Perfectionism. Puritanism. “Masculinity” (and all of the bullshit carried by the label). I’m a progressive person, spared by an upbringing without dogmatic religion, who aspires to mindfulness, and a neutral but equitable conception of gender and gender roles—but my self-consciousness is not always immune.

It is wonderful to be someone’s “good boy” in diapers… but then comes the dissonance against my pride, career, social standing, and command of articulate speech. It is wonderful to be the “Daddy” to a diapered little… but the word itself triggers deep shame of misogyny, and my own daddy issues about the man who held that title—the archetype of 1950s toxic masculinity—in my early childhood.

So, this is my self-reminder to live and let live. Be big, be little. Wear diapers with reckless abandon. Life is uncertain; and the fascists want to deprive us of what little joy we have in the first place—not to mention the strain on our collective mental health as Nazi thugs ravage our communities, and billionaire pedophiles rule our country.