I have no idea how it got this far. Mary was…persuasive. It all started normal enough. A few dates, great chemistry, better connection. She was the first girl I was truly not afraid to bring up my incontinence with.
And I was right. It didn’t even phase her, not even for a second. Looking back, I probably should have noticed her smile. But when you’re so used to negative reactions, anything positive was enough for me.
We were both young professionals. Loving life and having a blast. But sometime between then and now, I went from professional to toddler.
She seemed to know the state of my diaper better than me. It was almost psychic. Whenever she waltzed up to me, smiling sweetly, humming some beautiful tune, and checked my diaper, it was always ready for a change.
I probably should have noticed that she was not only comfortable around diapers, but arguably better than me at putting my own diaper on. But I only noticed how happy she was to do it, how comfortable she made me, and how safe she made me feel.
I didn’t mind when she replaced my regular all white Megamaxes for the colorful, printed diapers. They were comfortable and made her squeal in delight whenever she saw me in them.
I didn’t mind the sweet ways she spoke to me. I didn’t mind when she got me cute pajamas, then colorful onesies, because they were super comfortable. I thought the earlier and earlier bedtime was a positive, since I was doing better at work.
When I was with her I wasn’t “incontinent” because, as she said, “babies aren’t incontinent, honey, they just go in their diaper. It’s as natural as the sun rising.” I wasn’t ashamed of my diapers anymore. A full diaper meant more time with her.
It went on like this for a while. It was never one huge change. But what’s there to care about anymore when I have Mommy—I mean, Mary—to help me.
