I didn’t initially recognize the convenient convergence of circumstances between my last two posts. Paring down my online involvement in the ABDL scene for Lent, and family visiting for a number of weeks that restricted access to my diapers. They were surprisingly symbiotic.

The house is now back to its nuclear family after a month of live-in relatives. It was a busy time, which is a handy distraction when you can’t wear a diaper. Usually a weekly wearer, I only managed to wear a real diaper once during that month, my last cloth-backed ABU Preschool — the quietest diaper I had. So far as I know, my wife is the only one who caught on. I did manage to slip on a pull-up for a couple hours twice during the month, like smelling a chocolate lava cake without getting to eat it. The same afternoon they left, I donned a diaper. Then two days later, I donned another. After periods of delay, there’s usueally pent up demand that a temporary increase in frequency has the propensity to correct.

The Lent experiment, in which I cut back my diaper-related internet activities, has now also come to an end. Like most people, I could probably do with less social media. Mine is a bit of an ADISC habit that I was trying to disrupt. There was, admittedly, one day somewhere in the middle where I slipped and hopped on the site. But otherwise, I held firm.

In the beginning, I had a boredom reflex that made me want to go there, and I had to consciously stop myself from going. By the end, it was thankfully no longer my instinct. I was spending too much time there, and it was nice to reclaim it. As a result, diapers were on my mind less, and I think that proved extra helpful during a time when I had fewer opportunities to wear. I’d have expected the opposite; that cutting them both back would have only stoked the angst. But it didn’t, and I’m glad. I also feel to credit some of that to the consecration of that sacrifice in an attempt to draw nearer to God as part of Lent.

There is one unique job ADISC does for me, however, that I began to miss after 40 days. There’s no other place that has validated so effectively my experiences as a diaper lover. Lest you believe it an entirely compromise-free experiment, I did find myself feeling more lonely in my plight than I have in quite a while. That’s probably why, not long after the end of Lent, I went back. I have mixed feelings about it. Ugh, yes, the camaraderie, but it comes at a cost.

I aspire to regain the spirit of Lent and escape the ABDL internet more permanently — loneliness be damned. But outside of Lent, it feels suddenly more difficult again. There’s power in a time-bound sacrifice. Humans can endure almost anything if they know that it has a definite end. Similarly, I can endure, and even enjoy, days between diapers as long as I know that I have diapers available to me. That’s why I always pack one or two when I travel more than a few days, even though I almost never use them. I’d love to find tricks like that that can lead to a more permanent reduction in time spent on that site.


We’ve got family coming to stay with us for a number of weeks. This is the first time we’ll have had visitors in the house long enough to disrupt my regular pattern of diaper use by more than just a day or two. I usually go about a week between diapers, and I have been very consistent for many years running. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve missed one session in the last five years, and I don’t think I’ve ever skipped twice in a row.

I believe in the power of that consistency to regulate the habit. I’ve talked at length on the subject, but I wear weekly both when I want to and on the rare occasion that I don’t. It allows me to suspend all other nudges on the other 6 days of the week — knowing that another session will always come soon. I make occasional exceptions for a second when a desire strikes that seems wiser to satiate than to suppress, or at times when a diaper’s comfort can counteract a discomfort, like when I was sore and exhausted after a day-long hike, or last weekend when a diaper made filing my taxes slightly less unbearable.

So, the uncertainty of not knowing if or when I’ll be able to wear is a bit uneasy. I store my diapers in the basement — that’s also where the guest room is. So, I’m going to stash a few of my quietest diapers (MegaMax and Preschool) in a bag upstairs and hope that they might fancy the occasional outing, or that a quieter diaper will go unnoticed once a week.

Or Borrowed


In a direction that feels like upward, I’m taking one small step to re-calibrate my time and priorities. Over a 40-day stretch, I’m putting a buffer between me and the broader online ABDL presence generally, and ADISC specifically. Let me explain.

As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I haven’t previously participated, at least seriously, in Lent. The Church, while generally honoring the events behind the traditions of Christianity, has never really institutionalized its participation in the rituals and customs of such. A number of my friends in the Church have participated culturally, if not religiously before — and it’s piqued my curiosity.

What the Church is really into, is sacrifice. We make covenants to our willingness to give our everything to the Lord’s work upon request, and we sing that “sacrifice brings forth the blessings of Heaven.” I do have an attachment to that doctrine. Periods of growth in my life correlate convincingly with periods of sacrifice: like my mission, and when I’ve dedicated personal offerings to the Lord. I believe the Lord honors covenants made between Him and one of His children, even if made outside of traditional ordinances. I’m not talking about some quid pro quo deal-making with God. But as you offer to give something up in pursuit of closeness to God that might otherwise be standing in your way, I think He sees that, and blesses that.

So, I’ve decided to take a break from ADISC for 40 days — perhaps indefinitely — perhaps permanently. To be clear, I don’t condemn ADISC for its existence, its philosophy, or its success. In fact, I appreciate very much the efforts they invest in moderation, and the important safety they’ve brought to an over-sexualized cyberspace. ADISC made me feel a little less weird at a critical time when I felt loathsome. And it’s kinda fun staying on top of the latest news and newest diapers. But I’ve made some considerable effort over the years to prune out that which is more extreme in my consumption such that ADISC now represents the outer extremity of my involvement in the community. Again, it’s not that I find it grossly unwholesome — but certainly frivolous and repetitive at best. As a human who, like most humans, already spends too much time on social media, I determined the greatest gains could be made by muting the platform with the strongest magnetism and most persistent mindshare. It’s due less to the nature of the platform itself than to my specific sensitivity to its subject matter.

The calibration effort still depends on wearing a diaper once or twice a week. That won’t be changing for Lent. And I’ll keep up correspondence with the diaper lovers I’ve gotten to know elsewhere. But I think the the time between those sanctioned activities will be best reallocated away from diapers to unbind my thoughts that they might find a greater purpose.


There are plenty of very good reasons to share your affinity for diapers with someone close to you. You may desire the therapeutic benefits of having a confidant with whom you can speak freely. Or, because of our current more restricted ways of life, you may be living in close quarters with less privacy than you’re used to. Or, you may be on the cusp of deeper commitment with your significant other. Whatever the reason, it’s important to approach that conversation with thoughtful preparation.

Lessons extracted from my own experiences, and those of other DLs who’ve made similar revelations to their loved ones have informed these thoughts. This is the best general advice I have to offer. But your own circumstances may make it more or less relevant, and should always be taken alongside your own feelings and prayers before beginning an important conversation.


Important private details of your life shouldn’t be shared willy-nilly without good cause. There are good reasons and bad reasons. If you’re seeking some exhibitionist thrill, deriving pleasure from your embarrassment, it’s probably driven of selfishness and can even be dangerous. Equally predatory is a desire to fish out someone else’s secrets by laying bare some of your own. Don’t leverage your own private matters in search of power or gossip.

But there are good reasons to do this too. I am an advocate for having someone in your life you can be honest with — a trustworthy person who is willing to shoulder the burden with you and never use it against you. To say the words aloud to another human being is alleviating and powerful like little else. It’s instantly helpful.

Another good reason is to spare someone the shock and embarrassment in a situation where they are likely to find out regardless. You may be living with less privacy recently under stay-at-home orders due to COVID-19. Or you may share an apartment with someone under other circumstances, and if you’re worried or unable to either go without or keep it secret, that may justify a route from the honesty playbook.

Another righteous motivation to spill the beans is an unwillingness to keep secrets from your significant other. Out of respect for them, and reverence for the relationship itself, it’s wise to clear the hurdles early — because they’ll be unearthed later, and that only leads to a sense of betrayal. Even if you feel you’ve got it under control, it is not admitting defeat to take them through your journey and describe where you’re at now. It will prepare them to better handle revelations in the future. And you may find that demonstrating trust in them by showing some vulnerability serves to strengthen your relationship rather than weakening it.


The language you use, and the background you provide can tee them up for a more sympathetic response. People tend to find selfishness distasteful, but respond sympathetically to struggle. Rather than an angle like, “Well, I like it and I don’t care how it affects anyone else. It makes me feel good!” You might be better off telling your story from the beginning. Speak of how confused and marginalized you felt as you discovered this urge to wear diapers. Where do you think it came from? What different approaches have you taken? Where are you at now? Taking them through the journey from the beginning will help them understand how you’ve arrived at your conclusions, and made your decisions.

The short version of my story would go something like this: I had bed wetting problems until I was in the third grade. I think as a result, my body developed a kind of attachment to the feeling of wearing a diaper. A short time later I noticed that I wanted to wear them again. I would sneak and experiment with them a little in my early teens. I felt like such a freak and knew I had to be the only one that felt that way, until I discovered that other people online had very similar experiences. I was actually largely unbothered by it on my mission and thought I’d been cured! But then the routines of daily life afterward brought me back down to earth and the interest returned. Eventually, with no real access to diapers, the mere mention of the word on TV or in jokes from classmates would send me spiraling. I met with many counselors over the years. Once I found one who finally understood what I was going through, we decided that the healthiest path forward was for me to keep some on hand, and make limited use of them. So, once or twice a week I wear one, and it has really proven effective in stabilizing me in all kinds of ways.


One mistake I’ve seen some diaper lovers make, is drawing the exposé out across several sessions. It’s a scary and embarrassing subject to talk about. And while a gradual, spread-out approach to the news may feel more manageable, it’s worse in the long run. First, you’re repeatedly putting you both through the stress of having to prepare for and initiate awkward conversations. But most importantly, you’re setting your loved one up to constantly wonder whether there are more surprises coming. If over an extended period of time, you occasionally throw out another little tidbit, they have no sense of completion. They don’t know where the story ends.

But, if in the same setting you can lay it all on the table at once, and then declare, “and now you know everything!” You can both rest assured that there will be no unwelcome discoveries later, and you’ve eliminated the tension. If you aren’t able to make it through the whole story initially, you should at least drop a little teaser like, “There’s a bit more to the story, so we should chat about it again soon.”

In our very first conversation on the subject before we were married, I told my wife that I occasionally wear diapers, that I also use them when I do, and that I liked ones with fun prints. Then as soon as we were married and living together, I showed her where I kept them and what they looked like so she never stumbled upon them by accident. My philosophy is to always stay ahead of the surprises. So I’m usually pretty fast and straightforward about any updates. Additionally, you’ll want to include details about any accessories, clothing, or activities you may enjoy alongside your diapers.

With these foundational principles and a little rehearsal, I hope your conversations run smoothly and are mutually compassionate. If you have any additional tips or experiences of your own about sharing with loved ones, please comment below. We need to learn from each other’s experiences.

Great Expectations

I love the holidays. This year was no different. But it was differently celebrated than I’m used to. Instead of tradition-oriented, home-based celebration, much of the holidays was spent traveling with my wife’s family. And I did, truly, have a delightful time. I saw things I hadn’t seen before, got to know my new family better, and was pushed out of my comfort zone into some new adventures.

Given my once-a-week diaper routine, extended time away always gives me a bit of pause, even mild worry, that disruption of that routine might lead to hard times. It is, in some ways, both a blessing and a curse that a weekly diaper keeps me stable. It’s such a simple remedy. But having relied on it for an extended time, it becomes harder to dispense with the expectation that it’s coming every week.

To be clear, I did so well. Compared to past years when I had no diapers or too many diapers, it was so manageable. The relative difficulty I experienced was truly fractional. But, by the end of the trip, I was feeling anxious to put one on. In preparation for the trip, I did wear one the day before. I also brought one. Primarily as a mental salve to know that if I needed to I could. And secondarily to wear if I got desperate. And I never did. So, I guess, it actually worked. And all of the systems and routines and fail-safe measures kept me grounded.

Though, I did wear diapers two consecutive days when I got home — to rebalance. I think that materialized out of a conscious bargaining charade I put myself through in those anxious times. You’re missing a week, but you can tough it out, because you can make up for it when you get back. I set up that expectation for myself, I rely on it, and then I kind of have to do it when I get back, otherwise I’m disappointed and I’ll feel all the more pull to wear. It’s the same disappointment I feel when I’ve looked ahead a few days, picked a convenient day to wear a diaper that week, but that day arrives and unforeseen obstacles prevent me from wearing that day.

The point is, I think a lot of the anxious and disappointed feelings that make the desire to wear diapers difficult to bear sometimes, are a function of my own expectations. I get attached to the idea of being able to wear on a certain day or on a certain schedule, and then when life interferes, that’s when I have a more challenging day. I’m not sure what the remedy is. It’s also the routine that makes this work. Can I somehow loosen up my expectations such that I am able to have a target frequency with less rigidity in how it plays out? Not allow myself to schedule so far in advance, and allow for more spontaneity?


Friends, I find that I have less to talk about these days. I think there is something of a finite pool of topics that people in the DL community rehash over and over again, and I’ve never wanted this blog to become redundant. But I desire to write with enough frequency that I’m keeping an arm of outreach extended to those who feel alone in this. Particularly as one of only a few vocal DLs that are members of the Church. So, I’d love to ask for your assistance feeling out other relevant topics I could share my thoughts on, and we could discuss on the blog. If you’ve got a topic or question on your mind, please add a comment below. I’d love to continue exploring new thoughts with you, and your input would be invaluable to me.

Thank you.