I do not know if there is a hierarchy between being an Adult Baby, a Diaper Lover, and both. I had always considered myself a Diaper Lover because I couldn’t see myself playing a role. I was too adult for that. Yes, the guy who likes to wear diapers with prints on them is saying he is too grown up for something. I feel the irony as it transfers from my fingertips to the letters on this keyboard is not lost on me. I hear it, the voice in my head.
I had never considered myself to be “little” or have a little side until she fed me ice cream, and I loved it. I don’t want to overstate it, but to say that I liked it would be doing the emotion and the experience a disservice. While she did not know she was doing it, she was giving me solace in a storm of emotion that we had been experiencing together. Both of us in different ways for different things. I felt the following day the hollowness of nothing. Empty inside, and the opposite of the spectrum by having my spouse, my partner, my best friend sitting on my lap feeding me two or three spoonfuls of rocky road ice cream.
I have to release any previous judgement that I may have had for people who associate themselves with Adult Babies. While I likely do not find myself as far down the spectrum as others, I have found comfort in something, with someone, that I had never felt like it before. A different kind of love, not a better love or something that could replace the relationship that I already have with my spouse, but something additional that brought me closer to her than we had been before.