Adult Baby

October 26, 2014

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When I started this blog I never would have considered myself an adult baby, sure I loved the cute baby girl dresses and had always had a thing for nappies but an adult baby, oh my no. But when someone enters your life and shows such unconditional love as mummy did and then not only embraces the all of you but also has the knowledge to unwrap the very core of your being, well then it is easy to see yourself as you truly are.
So as I sit here now I can say yep I am an adult baby and an adult toddler.
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I guess it all shows the complexity of my nature as it drifts between the ages. I always thought that the little girl inside me was 9, maybe 10 but the reality is she drifts, sometimes she is that 9 year old, sometimes she is 5 and then 2-3. Sometimes she is simply a baby. But my real emotional age, an age that is fixed is 2. That age, emotionally speaking, reflects everything.

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In many ways being 9 or even 5 means that at some level you can look after yourself. Ok yes I am an adult, so regardless of the clothes I can look after myself, but as any adult baby will tell you, when you slip into babyhood it is a lot different. The thing about being an adult baby, a toddler, is the very real need to be utterly dependent on someone, to let go of the natural adult instincts. For me that dependence, that need to let go is present all the time and I have long accepted that.

I do know that for many adult babies propose many questions, especially why would an adult want to regress back to infancy? For many it’s just a release, a way to defunct the stress, but for others like me its about regressing to a natural state. That feeling of having someone do everything for you, take care of you is very very strong. It’s not about someone controlling you, it is about BEING a baby/toddler in every possible way.

The main thing I would think most people find bizarre is nappies and the use of. I can understand that. I can now quite easily use my nappies as they are intended and believe me it took a while, maybe not wetting but pooping. But that first time made realise how much I need my nappies. It was mummy who helped me, encouraged me and made me understand the importance of using my nappies.

Now when life allows I will put on my nappies and use them. It is a strange feeling to poop in a nappy, there is that familiar sense of relief, that felling you would expect, then that slight odour hits your nostrils as does the feeling of being so very little. As you finish you can feel the weight behind you, not heavy but there. The smell gets a little stronger but never overpowering, almost comforting. You feel the poop around your bum and you feel even more little and it also feels so natural, however disgusting others may think, it really does. Of course clean up on your own is not fun, but has to be done.

Essentially being a baby/toddler is more than just a part of me. I am an adult baby.

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Memories

October 26, 2014

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It took a film to give me that urge to write and funny enough another one has done the same thing, Like the previous this stirred memories and feelings from my childhood, or lets say my on going childhood. The film is Bad Grandpa so if you haven’t seen it and don’t want to know anything about stop reading now!

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I have shared many times triggers when I was growing up which fuelled who I am today and one of these was Beauty Pageants. Whether you agree with Beauty Pageants or not, for me, a confused little boy they were the absolute epiphany of femininity, so far away from the world I had been thrust into.
Peering into their world was magical for me and though I tried to deny it, I ached to be one of them, or maybe more importantly be accepted into that world. I remember vividly my sister going to ballet classes every Saturday and I would have to tag along and sit in the car waiting for her to finish so my mum could take her home. I used to hate it, sitting, waiting, but I also sat there wondering what it was like, envious of her, the ballet costumes, the way the girls all had so much fun without the need to be aggressive.
At the end of each term they would out on a show and I would have to go along. I was annoyed that I was being dragged away from a favourite show, but my mind raced with the longing that maybe, just maybe one of the girls would not be able to go on and they would need to find a replacement and of course that replacement would be me.

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Seeing snapshots of Beauty Pageants just fascinated me, all that lace, the frills, the hair!! And then the makeup, how I wanted to be caked in that makeup and glitter, to be pretty, dainty and the like, be with the other girls as an equal even if still a boy.
In Bad Grandpa, again ignoring what the film is about and the context of what happens, a boy becomes a Pageant girl. Ok it does take a turn for the, let’s say fine line of comedy, but the initial set up, seeing the boy dressed and actually quite believable and graceful just pulled on my heart strings, because I could see myself at that tender age of 8, or at least how I would have wanted to see myself at that age.

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In our somewhat more tolerant world that on occasions allows those who are “different” to shine, there are Beauty Pageants for boys – see above. Yet the world does still seem to want to take a couple of steps back each time it strives forward in it’s tolerance and acceptance. Maybe it is still fear, I mean if I told everyone I was a sissy or an ALG, some would not bat an eye lid, but others would resent me and view me with suspicion.
I do look back to that awkward, sissy little boy I was and wonder if there were other paths he could have taken, yet in reality that is a fruitless activity, much how I often view this day to day existence to be honest – the cold and dark nights do not a happy little girl make lol.
However I do find that with one foot on the floor of reality, my dreams can still fly free and in them I am a Beauty Pageant Princess!!

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Identity

October 18, 2014

I guess identity is something everyone seeks, to able to know what you are you, where you belong. Certain words have helped me find my own identity even if those words and that identity is something that has to be hidden from others. Words like sissy, pansy, adult baby, adult little girl, little, they all resonate, even if to others some words mean different things.

One word that strikes more of chord and I think sums up more the complex nature of who I am is child. Because of the very nature of adults dressing as children and of course the misconception that that can and does bring it is always hard to speak about this part of me, but in terms of identity it is important.

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Wanting to dress in girls clothes is one thing, wanting to dress as a little girl another, the mere action of putting on clothes that are not deemed socially acceptable does not make you one thing or the other, but the reasons behind it can.

Growing older, maturing, learning, it is all part of adulthood, but when you are a little, a lot of that simply does not take. Of course this doesn’t mean I cannot function as an adult, it means I can’t function fully as an adult, it means to others I can come across childish and what are to most simple tasks are to me almost an ordeal.

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I play adult and I can play it quite well at times, but lately that act has begun to slip, it has become tiring to constantly have to think how to act instead of just reacting naturally. My potty problems, my fears and my failure to understand the adult world just make days hard sometimes.

But childhood is that natural state for me, it’s not a cop out because I find adulthood hard, but a reality, my identity. So many times, especially at work, I have just wanted to shout out that I can’t do this, I am only a child!! That though makes me feel guilty so I just get on with it, hoping I do well, wanting so much to hear praise and scared stiff inside that I have made any type of mistake.

Of course this all boils down to why I have had this ache to be a full time little girl because when I really look at my identity, I only see a little girl, a little girl who is scared but ready to really flourish.
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Courage

October 5, 2014

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I have to admit there was a part of me that believed this blog had run it’s course and that maybe I should close it, but something happened to me today, something that ignited feelings I have had for so long and something I felt I needed to write about.
You know the theme that runs rampant through this blog, I dream of living full time, 24/7 as a little girl. Simple.
Since my last post much has happened, much I don’t want to go into as it is still raw, but also a battle between the daylight existence and the dream world unreality. A battle for balance if you like.
Taking a long hard look at the truth of my life and how it was getting to a point where something had to give, where almost nothing made me happy, at least not for more than some fleeting moment. Analyzing too much, trying to find answers to questions that seemed vague, it just did nothing except allow time to tick by laughing.
Part of the time spent was looking into the reality of the little girl lifestyle, the effects it would have, the reality of embracing it and in some ways the fall out. If you have read this blog you know it’s not about role play, it’s not a fetish, it’s not something I switch on and off at will when the mood takes me. It is with me like an unseen shadow always, whether day or night.
Something else that is obvious about me and that is I am scared, I have always been scared. I want to take steps, but I freeze, I over think it and stop, frozen to the spot.
I know deep down that if I took that step, had that courage, then I would find the life I not only dream of, but need.
When I first started this blog, Mummy Honey said to me that I needed to meet other sissies, other adult little girls, go to a sissy party, interact with those that were like me. She was right of course and I cannot tell you how close I have been, yet that courage fails me each and every time.
I set myself, tell myself that this is what should be, but buckle, allow the fear to stamp my stomach and leave me sick inside. It’s silly, but I end up convincing myself that I am happy to dress up in seclusion, be a static version of the person who fights daily to express herself. It’s denying myself freedom of expression, thinking abut it, I am my own oppressor!
Maybe there is a part of me that clings to the life I have made and live daily, the male, adult identity and thinks that if I jump down the rabbit hole then I compromise that, even if I don’t truly enjoy it.
You see I analyse every single thing.
What I do have though, as a tool for affirmation, is every chat, every email and every audio mummy has ever done. I read and listen a lot and those words, whether written or spoken confirm who I am. Mummy knows my heart more than I do, more than I will ever know.

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I don’t know how often I will post, or even if I will post again after this, I just needed to write today. And that brings me back to why I felt I needed to post. Now this is going to sound strange, very strange.
SPOILER ALERT!!! If you have not seen Insidious 2 and want to then stop reading!!!
Yes I do watch horror films, I do do things of an ‘adult’ nature, they are few and contradict my nature but life ain’t black & white and yes I do think I could do without them if I lived as a little girl. OK? Cool.
Anyway taking the whole story aside, basically there is a part where some of the cast walk into a girls bedroom, where a little girl is seated on the bed, but the reality is this is a little boy and his mother is raising him as a girl – in a scary way. Now as I say forget the story, forget that reasons why, it was purely the image of him on the bed, dainty dress, wig of blonde curls, lace curtains, surrounded by dolls. This sparked something from my childhood, something I guess I knew of but had forgotten. Back then I wanted to be that ‘little boy’ sitting on ‘her’ bed in a dress like that, I wanted to be raised as a girl, told that this was my life and being happy. It hit me and then reminded me that I do still want and need to live as a  little girl, that that world is my world.
So it took a horror film to make me write this. Scary eh?

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Time Away

January 8, 2013

Since around November last year my life has been changing and there have been increasing pressures that quite frankly have left me re-evaluating my life. The new year has brought everything to a head where all elements of my life away from sissy/little things are seemingly skating on melting ice. I will be honest at this present time I do not feel I can or indeed want to carry on with this blog or even be in the online world. I am not turning my back on who I am, but I cannot wrap myself up in it anymore, it actually feels alien to me at the moment, almost as if it’s something I want to keep just for me.

I feel at this crossroads where my lives, the online almost fantasy world of flashing words on a computer screen and the harsh but real world of life and death are ripping me apart. I have tried to create a balance and I think maybe I have and I feel that maybe this doesn’t include online, or at least the vast majority of it. Most people I meet online flitter near my flame seemingly captivated and then fly away to another light and I do the same sometimes, it’s online human nature. I have met some wonderful people mind, people who shine more than my light.

So for now at least I will say goodbye, if you email and I don’t reply, it’s only because I haven’t checked my email.

 

Merry Christmas

December 19, 2012

Another year draws to an end………….

Wishing you all a happy Christmas

 

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It’s Here

December 1, 2012

Well it’s here, my new blog – It’s A Little Life – hope you like it!

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