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Childish Destiny On her twentieth birthday, a deer is evaluated on whether it would be best if she was regressed back to babyhood. (5,554 words.) Ask any of her friends, and they would tell you that Holly Weathers was the most mature deer they had ever met and certainly not suited to be a baby at all. At least, that’s what Holly believed they’d say. For her evaluation, Holly dressed as adult as possible. She wore a skinny amber skirt and a blouse with ample cleavage. For once, she remembered to apply perfume, a beach aroma that complemented her sandy antlers. She had adorned her hooves in heels, a clothing article she absolutely detested, but a fur proves their adulthood not by being themselves but by wearing the most elegant disguise possible. Holly had come prepared. Nine minutes left. Nine minutes until Holly’s entire life trajectory would be decided by crazy doctors. Nine minutes until society would determine if she was worthy of living an adult life. How could this be fair? The deer shuffled her legs in the waiting room. She checked her watch above her left hoof; only eight minutes now. Since trotting through that front door, her stomach was twisting. But really, her anxiety had anticipated this day ever since six months ago when she realized she was about to turn twenty and have her evaluation. A few other animals waited besides her. One, a spotted Maine Coon, had already given up in being placed as an adult. He had a balloon patterned diaper and a pacifier happily in his muzzle. He purred softly though his suckles. Perhaps this cat actually wanted to be a baby? Holly was skeptical, but she knew these furs existed. At least until the cat’s placement, she refused to refer to him as a kitten. Even if he had given up hope in his adulthood, Holly had faith in him. She was not the kind of fur to surrender to babyhood. She was a proud deer about to complete her second year of college, and she did not need her life ruined with eternal fawnhood. She knew from internet research and stories among friends that these placements were obviously random and had nothing to do with your actual maturity, but superstition still said to provide the most adult impression possible. Her friends… The odds were not in Holly’s favor. She was autistic and fat and a girl. Chubby animals look like babies to these quacks, one fur she read theorized. Girls are cute. And autistic furs, well, how could they be expected to take care of themselves? Holly would laugh if she wasn’t nervous. She was a grown-up, bleat! Sure, she couldn’t tie her shoes until she was twelve years old—which she rarely wore anyways since walking on bare hooves was far superior—and sure, she still ate salads almost every night for dinner and would cry if she was out of chickpeas, but these were normal things! Even if they weren’t, they had nothing to do with whether she would be happier as a baby. And there’s nothing babyish about eating seconds. Two months ago, her best friend Miranda had her placement. It did not go as Holly hoped. Holly theoretically wanted to stay in touch, but for her heart, it was hard to see that biology major she once knew babbling about how much she loved her stuffy. Where was that smart wolf? How could anyone think this regression stuff was okay? Holly sighed. She was relatively alone in this opinion. Miranda herself said beforepaw that she wanted whatever the doctors deemed best for her happiness. Many of Holly's other friends admitted that they were kind of childish, and it might be nice to be good babies like society said they should be. Others were confident they'd be placed as mommies, and they were excited for their future little to raise. They had all had brainwashed! There was nothing natural about this, and animals did not need to become children for anyone. Holly was very firm in this position, and no placement decision would ever sway her mind. The deer had been tempted to run away. She could ditch town, flee to the woods, and live off of wild grasses and berries. But the girl needed her degree. She wanted to be a Latin professor. What life would there be hiding from every fur she knew? If she returned to society, she would immediately be forced into a placement appointment. So Holly might as well get this decision out of the way that would determine the rest of her life. A door opened. “Holly?" the nurse asked. “Bleat!” Holly said. No, don’t vocalize now! It’s too cute and damaging for her adult placement! The deer stood up from her seat. She could see the whole waiting room below her now,. and she hated how childish it was. A table with trains and tracks stood in the middle, and that diapered cat had been pawing one back and forth. The coat hanger at the office entrance was green with "flower" bulbs to place coats. The office was begging to place every animal who arrived as a baby. But Holly knew that wasn't true. Some animals were determined fit to be adults. She would be one of them. Holly sauntered over to the nurse as maturely as possible, yet the mouse receptionist gave a big grin. Bad sign, bad sign. They may already see Holly as little. Fuck, she was masking her autism so well! Her walk was normally a giveaway, a big stumble between gallops, so she really tried today to control her pace. Still, many patients in the waiting room kept waving at her like a cute little thing. Shuddering inside, Holly reached the nurse at the open door, and the two walked down the hallway. "Excited for your big day?" the nurse giggled. She was an orange falcon of a rather tall stature. "Totally," Holly said. Don't admit you want a particular outcome. That makes you mature in their eyes. As they walked by examination rooms and corkboards littered with painted paw prints and other crafts, Holly locked eyes with Jessy Delmer, a curvy cow she knew from back in high school. Ugh, why did she have to be here? Not only was Jessy ridiculously pro this system rather than indifferent, she was classified as a mom a few weeks ago and would be soon assigned a "little." The cow had already been breast-pumping to feed her future “young’s” mouth. It wasn't fair that her placement as an adult would only confirm the validity of the system in her head. "Hiii Holly! Omg, today is your big day! Best of luck!" she said with her usual glee. "Thanks Jessie," Holly said was as much sarcasm she thought necessary to break her hatred through to this girl. Nope, it still didn't work. Jessie was grinning as she trotted away towards the restroom. Of course. "Come on in," the nurse sang. They were in front of examination room five, which looked like a cross of a therapy office and a daycare. There was a red couch on the left and a comfy green rocking chair on the right. But the rug was one of those rainbow rugs from kindergarten, and was that a bin of stuffed animals next to the bookshelf? At the back was a big paneled window streaming with light from a glimmering lake with a highway by its shore. “We’ve looked at your background before you came in,” the falcon said as she turned on a noise machine by the entrance. “But we would like to run a few tests before we let you know your results. Would that be okay, deer?” God no, the puns. Holly took a breath. Just keep your cool and forced enthusiasm. “Okay!” “Excellent.” The falcon lowered herself into the rocking chair. “We will start with an interview. Please, take a seat.” Holly reluctantly walked in and sat down on the couch. She was tempted to lie down, but she decided to sit up straight. “I should introduce myself,” the bird said. “I am Juniper, and while I am called a nurse here, I am a social worker specializing in working with children. How about you? Would you like to tell me a little about yourself?” Holly fidgeted with her hooves. She was not a child. Just ignore her supposed specialty. “Uh, my name is Holly Weathers. I’m a deer.” Duh, Holly. “I study ancient Romanimal civilization in college. I really love how in Latin, the words can go in any order as long as the endings decline correctly. It’s so cool!” Holly felt rather clever with this sophisticated answer. As long as she could keep away from babyish topics, she could prove her adulthood. The falcon responded, “Ha, I don’t remember my high school Spanish very well, but that is really interesting. Do you have any other hobbies you would like to share?” “Well, I like embroidery. I sometimes make cute characters for my friends, and I like to stitch Latin phrases. I also—” “I see. What are some of your favorite foods?” She didn’t like being interrupted, but she had an answer bursting for this question. “Pickles. I really like pickles! They’re such a good snack. I also love a great salad with some Caesar dressing—no fish, please—or with balsamic vinaigrette. It’s soooo good. I could eat salads for every meal!” Crap, had she answered too fast? The interview continued for quite a well. Holly knew she was acing it. Her responses were mature and nuanced. The conversation was flowing, and she did her best to keep eye contact. She would receive an adult verdict in no time. “I think that’s enough chatting. Next, I will pull out some cards, and you will tell me what you see. Understand?” Holly knew of this test from internet discourse. It was the easiest one. As long as you said what you saw—and it was quite obvious what was in the pictures—you’d be golden. “Yes, I’m ready.” Juniper reached her wings into a bag and pulled flash cards held by a clip. She flipped to the first one. “Can you tell me what this is?” It was obvious. “A tree,” Holly said. Try to sound as neutral as possible, even bored. Unlike the interview, this was supposed to be banal for adults. Just zone out. “And this?” “A car.” “And this?” “A skateboard. “And this?” “A snack. Wait, an apple.” Frick, how could she have slipped like that? Don’t zone out too far. It wasn’t a huge deal, of course. Adults like apples. But she mentally slapped herself. “How about this?” “A cloud.” “And this?” “A squirrel.” “And this one?” “A dog.” “And how about this?” “A stuffy.” NO. She did not just abbreviate that. You only say stuffy at home, Holly! Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Very good! I think that’s enough cards.” She dropped them back in the bag. Holly did not feel she was very good. Juniper continued. “And speaking of stuffies, our next test will be all about them!” Crap, stuffed animals were an autistic deer’s weakness. Juniper stood up and walked towards that bin. She pulled out a huge stuffed kangaroo. “I think it is best if I do not describe this test. Please hold this plush for now. She kneeled down by the couch and gave Holly the kangaroo. Bending to your eye level was a bad sign. That got Holly nervous. And this stuffed animal was an obvious trap. But it was also rather soft. Would it really hurt to pet the girl a little bit? Adults do that, right? Holly thought. She knew her plush obsession was overtaking her thinking, but she took her hoof off her lap and rubbed it on the kangaroo’s back. Wow, that texture was good. Really good. She did it again. Then again, closing her eyes now. After all the stress of this morning, couldn’t she use this quiet moment to enjoy this little plush? She pet the kangaroo some more. She rubbed her muzzle all around that plushie, a few drops of saliva leaking out and dampening the ‘roo’s fur Gosh, this was so nice! She wrapped her hooves around her new friend and gave him big hug. She was alright and safe. “Could I have Kangy back, my friend?” “No!” Holly shouted, hugging her kangaroo tight, before shaking those words out of her head. “I mean: O-of course!” She held her hooves up to give the plushie to the standing bird. However, Holly was gripping rather tight. She didn’t want to give up her plushie. She loved Kangy! But she needed to pass this test, and she already slipped up. The friction pulled and tugged, and her grip gave. “Very good job. I’m so sorry to take her away. You can have Kangy back later, if you’d like,” the bird sang as she dropped Kangy back in the bin. Then the bird traveled back to her seat. It was a little past noon now, and the sun’s heat from the window was scorching. Holly’s front legs craved for the sensation of Kangy’s fur, but she needed to ignore that tingling for now for whatever tests were left. The falcon proceeded to reach into her blue bag again and pulled out what appeared to be a picture book. “For our last test, I will read this story to you, and ask you a few questions about what’s going on.” Oh, this should be an easy. Holly was absolutely above picture books and found no enjoyment from them whatsoever. She could show this bird that fact. Juniper put on some reading glasses, and she opened the book wide extended outwards, as if reading to a group of young campers. Holly was her reluctant audience of one. “Here we go. Ahem.” She flipped to the title page. “The Puppy’s Lost Treasure. “Once upon a time, a puppy loved his favorite sock. He loved chomping on this sock because it was the softest sock around.” There was a picture of a feral dog with a sock in his chompers. “‘Grrr’, he would say. Can you grrr for me like the puppy?” “Grr!” Holly said with a big goofy grin before jamming a hoof in her mouth. What the fudge? How could she react that way? This was the most basic of stories and she was getting so excited! No no, keep your focus, Holly. They won’t get that autistic deer out of you again. You are mature and always have been. You are nothing else but an adult, and you do not play. With a light smile forming in her beak, Juniper flipped the page. “But one day, the sock went missing. The puppy searched high and low for his wonderful sock. He wiggled under the bed and sniffed around. Was it there?” “No!” Holly said. Darn it Holly, stop! She had read the next speech bubble. “You are right. The sock wasn’t there!” The singsong in her voice was so irristable. “Then the puppy went outside and dug in his favorite digging spot. Was the sock there?” “No! Bleat!” Holly said. This place must be magic. How else could she slip up like that? She hadn’t acted this small since she was in preschool! There must be something up around here. This can’t be the real her underneath the fur. Her eyes felt watery, yet she couldn’t help but keep up a toothy smile. Drool started leaking out of her muzzle and onto the floor. “Very good! You’re passing this test with flying colors,” Juniper said. Holly did not want to pass this test. She couldn’t be passing this test. “When the puppy’s mommy came home from work, the puppy asked where his precious sock was. ‘Check your laundry bin,’ the mother said. The puppy sprinted up the stairs, around the corner, into his room, and dove his head far into the bin. And what do you think was there?” Juniper ended with the most stereotypical upwards tone. “THE SOCK!!! Bahhh~” Holly said. A drool puddle drenched the couch cushions beneath. She couldn’t hold it anymore. It felt so good to bah, to let go. She was an adult, not a fawn, but she couldn’t control her body anymore. This is who she was at this moment. She just had to hope the evaluation team could understand that she was an adult, and this was a rare fluke. This had to not be her. After Juniper wrapped up the story, she packed her bag and stood up. "The doctor will enter in a few short minutes, hun. You will have to wait here alone. Can you do that for me?" Oh no. That’s a bad sign, the asking of an obvious question. This could still be a bonus test, however. Just play it cool, pass this marshmallow test, and you’d be golden. The evaluation can’t have gone that badly, could it have? "Of course." *** She hated to admit it, as those baby freaks would jump on these emotions immediately, but those next couple of minutes gnawed at her skull. Please, please put Holly out of this misery and give her a good verdict. Please say she was an adult after all. Holly started to doubt her own adulthood with her earlier performance, but she denied all of these maniacs’ philosophy. Nothing here about being a “baby at heart” was true. The door opened. A fox in a white coat walked into the room with a rolling table and a laptop perched on top. Holly took in a deep breath. She would walk away like all of this had never happened, she knew. "Hello, Holly. How are you doing?" he said. "Fantastic." Holly realized how terse this statement was and correct it with the most genuine follow-up she could muster. "Truly." "We imagine you are eager to hear your results. So I'll get straight to the point. Based on our heuristics---" "Yes?" Holly said. "And after plenty of discussion---" "Go on." "We have decided you are the most babyish animal we have ever seen." The first “No” was a little peep, a breath of shock. Then Holly’s mask shattered. She screamed, "Noooo!! Please sir, there must be a mistake. I'm very mature, I swear!" "No mistakes were made, little one." Already that little phrase was out. Fudge. The chance of respect towards her was shriveling away. "We were very confident before you came in, but the evaluations done by Miss Juniper only confirmed it. You are one of the cutest, childlike, most autistic animals we have ever seen so perfect to be a baby. You already were one; you just didn't realize it!" Her argument was ready. "How can I be a baby if I'm talking to you?" "Oh cute girl, you know that being a baby has nothing to do if you can talk!” Juniper said. “It's what's in your heart. But of course, it feels much better for babies like you to not talk and instead wear diapers, babble, and poop and pee themselves. We're sure you'll come to understand that, too." She didn't know why she was trying to logic with these animals. It wasn't going to work; their insanity was beyond comprehension. Of course, she did know why she kept talking. She needed this all to change. Her emotions were all over the floor. Fudge, she was sobbing. Another mark towards babyhood. Her forever babyhood. "Frankly,” the doctor said, “the team was surprised you even lasted this long pretending to be a grown-up. You’re just so fat and little! You should never ever have been allowed to be an adult. We're so sorry that you've been through all this pain." "I haven't been through pain until now!" Holly said, though she wasn’t as sure as she was an hour ago. "I was a fine woman actually making a life in this stupid world." How could a whole team make such a wrong decision? Group think? Mob mentality? She didn’t act that babyish before, did she? The tests revealed nothing. "But it's okay now," the doctor said, a paw on Holly's back. "You're going to get to be a baby. You'll feel so much more comfortable. It's so right for you. He wasn't listening. He wasn’t listening. Her words were gibberish to him. Already, she was a baby in his eyes… Yet for some reason, this all felt good, maybe great. She was a fawn, scientifically verified. What if she could trust it, just accept that she was meant for pampers and building blocks? No more masking, no more hiding. She could be a good deer. She might be meant to be a baby for the rest of her life. She giggled wildly for a moment. She was a baby. She would never get to be an adult again. "We have your assigned mommy already here today," Juniper said. "And it sounds like the two of you already know each other! It's so sweet and perfect!" She put her wings together in a clap, a blush on her face. Wait, no. There's only one cow that could be referring to. Holly was snapped out of that stupid glee. "Heya, little cakes." Jessy said as she walked in with a pink stroller. "I get to be your mommy from now on! I get to put you in so many diapers and outfits, and you get to be oh so cute!! You'll never have to worry again! Isn't that great?" "No, No, NO!!!" Holly shouted. Anyone but that smug cow. Anyone else as her “mom.” Holly threw a nearby pamphlet across the room and whined. Just like a real baby...No, don't fall into their language. They would not convince her just yet. She almost fell earlier. "Jeez, someone's a bit hissy," the cow said with an exaggerated eye roll as if to help kids understand the humor. "Doc, do you think she'll feel better soon?" "Definitely. This realization that they've been a baby their whole life can be a shock for some little ones. They just didn't expect it. But don't worry! It'll feel natural and right for them soon enough." "But I haven't been a baby my whole life!" Holly stood up to try to level herself with these crazy heads before losing balance and falling right back into the couch. From her seat, she gestured to her whole body. "I'm an adult, look!" She felt awkward doing this, but she held up her breasts, a puberty characteristic to prove some sort of point. "Oh, the body argument," Jessy said. "A classic. Boobs just make a baby cuter, Little Bells.” Jessy reached to pinch Holly's cheeks with her cloven hooves. "Who's a good little baby who thinks she's a grown up? You are! You are!" "Shut up!" Holly swatted the air with her hooves towards Jessy. Another babyish act in the eyes of her new captors. She might really just be a good little fawn. "Doc, where's a binky?" Jessy asked. "Already way ahead of you. Put this in her muzzle to help sooth her. Babies calm right up once you give them a nice pacifier." Any rebuttals she had were disregarded as the most enormous binky Holly had ever seen was shoved right in her muzzle. Instantly, like a long return home, she began suckling. Mhm, this was rather nice. A calm washed across her fur, and for the first time in hours she felt her stomach relax. If she ever did get out of this, maybe she could try pacifiers at home. Wait, no! You're falling for their traps, again! Holly thought. Stop! Yet why not just fall for the traps? Why not let that fake adult façade break, Holly asked herself. Why not be the best baby there ever was, the real you? Why try so hard to pretend to be a grown up every day when the real autistic you is a good little girl? Holly didn’t know how to answer these questions. She thought she had to fight, at least a little longer. She thought she shouldn’t lose her strong, academic self. But why did she think these things? Holly was confused. “And I’ve got someone else you will like!” Juniper said, holding Kangy. She must have gotten it when Holly wasn’t looking. “Kangy,” Holly mumbled through her pacy. She loved Kangy so much. Kangy would be here through this babyish world. Kangy would be her best friend. She rubbed her head into Kangy’s stomach again. Drool leaked through her pacifier. "I think she's ready for the babying procedures,” the doctor said. “Ms. Fern, could you take our fawn to the conversion facilities?" "Of course," Juniper said. "C'mon, Jessy. Let's watch your baby be prepared." Holly paused from her snuggling to think about what was said. She had heard about these machines in theory, but she shuddered to think what they actually do. All she knew was a few weeks after each placement she would visit a previous friend, and they'd be mooing and meowing and drooling and packing their pamps. Something was going to happen, either to her mind or to her body. Half of her was distinctly terrified. The other half was still in awe with this soft bulb in her jaw and Kangy in her arms. She was a good baby. She was ready to poop some diapers. It’s what she should have been doing all these years. This was the moment she lost her disguise. Two women approached her, Juniper and Jessy, and they ripped every clothing item the deer had. They violated her. Gone was the amber skirt. Gone was the sexy blouse. There wouldn’t be sex for her anymore. She was a fawn. She would always be naked or In frilly skirts and booties. And this felt a little good, good to just be with her fatter, babier self that had been stifled under all that cloth mess. Fawns didn’t wear clothes. Fawns suckles their hooves and wet themselves. A giggle murmured in her. Jessy picked the entire deer up and placed her in the pink baby carriage. That woman was strong. But there was a grace to her carry. Could she really be that bad? Jessy then layered Holly in blankets and pillows until only her head poked out. It was a lot, but it was snuggly heaven. Holly could feel the wheels begin to turn. Jessy pushed as Juniper led her towards a room down the far end of the hall. This was where those machines would be. Yet Holly could barely see beyond the fluffy white ceiling of her stroller. She heard the “aww”s from nurses walking by, but it was hard to care anymore. It helped too that she couldn’t see these animals. “Load her onto the conveyor belt,” she heard Juniper say from under the muffle of the blankets. The cow continued to prove her motherly strength as she lifted the naked fat deer up onto the machine. Juniper strapped her belly down so she couldn’t bolt. There goes that option, not that Holly was considering running much at this point. The metal was cold. Finally out of the carriage though still stuck on her back, Holly could get a better look around. Above were great ceiling fans in the most industrial room of this building. Farther down, the conveyor belt, she could just glimpse in her vision other animals drift through metal boxes and exit diapered. There must be more to these machines, however. Something had to cause the mental changes she saw in her friends. “You excited?” someone asked. She stretched her head as much as she could in the opposite direction. It was the dog from earlier. His diaper had been removed, likely so he was ready to receive a new one. “Nah weally!” Holly croaked through her binky. “Buh maybe?” The war still raged in her head. This could be what would make her happy. She had those urges earlier. To giggle at a cute story, to speak in baby talk. All of that would be accepted now, encouraged. She might just need to be a baby. She didn’t have time to think more as the conveyor belt drifted her towards the first metal box. Brace yourself. You might not be the same person coming out. Her fur felt colder as she entered the box’s darkness. Something from above reached down and touched her head. Was this it? Was her mind a goner? The light returned. She was out of the box. What had changed? She felt herself all over. She reached her head. A pink, lacy bonnet wrapped around her ears…Was that all? Where was the mental changes? Was this a mind-controlling bonet? She didn’t think so, for it was loosely attached to her head. How could mind-control like that really exist, anyhow. There were no mental changes. It hit Holly then. All her friends who came out as happy babs hugging themselves; they wanted that. They realized that was them, for they were babies always. These machines didn’t mess with your head. They only dressed you. Her friends loved to mess and wet themselves all day while playing with toys because who wouldn’t? Being a baby was amazing! She felt booties join her paws, and in these seconds Holly had official lost the war and happy to do so. The doctors were right. It had been obvious for months, and she was scared of change so she dreaded this day. Yet being an accepting environment can be powerful. And Holly realized for sure that she was definitely a dumb, little, stinky baby. “Bah~,” she said, and she drooled some more. At last, the best station arrived. The arms reached down in the dark, tugged at her sides, and she drifted out. She was diapered. She was a baby again. And immediately, she pushed, and shit got all around her mushy bottom. “I did it! I did it, mommy!” Holly said. She was reaching the end of the conveyor belts, and Jessy’s arms were there to catch her. “I messed myself! I’m just a baby!” “I knew you would understand, little deer!” her mother said as she caught the girl. Holly loved Jessy. She had been angry at Mommy because Mommy had been treating her like a fawn back in high school, but Jessy just knew something Holly hadn’t realized yet. Everyone around her had seen through that pathetic mask. She was autistic and female, and she should just be a good baby. She nuzzled up into her mother’s breasts. “I love you mommy so, so much! Please take me home and diaper me and never treat me like an adult again!” “Of course I will. You can see your friends again, too! I bet they’d be happy to know you’re a baby like them.” Her friends! They had been so smart to accept themselves as baby idiots. Would they forgive Holly for not playing with them for so long? Of course they would. Babies stick together, and they love playing games and pooping themselves. She was so happy! “And you can still sometimes read your silly Latin if you want to sometimes, though you might be forgetting how to read soon.” She would definitely forget how to read. She would forget how to add, write, and so many other things. She was a baby! Babies didn’t know how to do these things, and that’s wonderful. She was loved and accepted. She could be her dumb, stupid, pamper-packing self for the rest of time. And that made her so blissfully happy. The drool from under Binky was immense. “You two are going to be such a happy family,” Juniper said. She was turning to leave back towards the office. “You two can exit out the back entrance; you did all the paperwork when you arrived, Jessy. Have a wonderful trip home!” “Thank you, Ms. Fern,” Jessy said. She then looked down at her girl. “Can you say Bye Bye to the woman who helped you realize what a big baby you are?” Holly loved Juniper. Without her, Holly wouldn’t realize how stupid, little, and wonderful she was! “Bye Bye, Juny!” Juniper smiled and walked away. Meanwhile, Jessy took off her shirt unhooked her bra. “I think it’s time for my little one to get a nice meal. You must be exhausted after such a big morning where you had to think so much!” Holly saw the cow’s teats. They were so, so big. So delicious. Her babyish instincts kicked in, and she suckled into overdrive. So squishy and soft. Suckly felt sooooo good. And she was going to do this all day every day for the rest of her life? Yay!! “Aww, such a good drinker! You can keep suckling as we walk to our car.” Of course, it would only be Jessy walking, with the fawn in her arms. Holly blushed as she felt the tap leaking in her diapie. It was sopping and turning yellow. But did it matter? She was a good baby, and babies did that kind of thing. She giggled and cozied up even deeper into her mother’s arms. She was a baby, and she would be one for the rest of her life. And that sounded like everything her little, fat, autistic heart could ever dream.

I try my best to act "normal" but I feel like I need to vent. As I have mentioned in other posts, I can usually make it and use the toilet well. I believe it's connected to my autism experience, But deep down I find going to the toilet to feel annoying, it's hard for me to recognize when it's the right time to go to the toilet until I feel like I have felt full for a little while. I have tried setting a schedule to go, and I drink plenty of water but sometimes I have to stay at the toilet for a few minutes with toilet paper just to make sure I don't leave any drops on my underwear or pants. I find sensory comfort in wearing pull ups, even though I am able to use the toilet, it feels nice to let go and not have to stop what I'm doing. I try my best to change when I need to, So I can avoid getting a UTI. Recently I have been very happy with the relationship I have with a good friend, one that comforted me when I was close to having a bowel accident in public on a bad day a few years ago. They have been encouraging me to try and be the best version of myself that I can be and I feel really grateful that they have helped me out, including these past few months. Lately I have found comfort in trying to go to the toilet around the same time they tell me they need to go. I realize I don't really have a need to wear them, and I would be okay since I only wear once in awhile and not consistently. Even though I have been doing a good job lately, I still feel sad at the thought of not wearing them at all anymore. But I realize it only make it awkward for the people around me if they notice anything. I feel embarrassed that I've had these feelings since I was 4, I had bad constipation with accidents as a kid up until my teens and I think it traumatized me to have an attachment to wanting diapers. I feel like I want to cry, I spent a long time trying to ignore the desire for diapers and now that I have accepted it I thought I would be at peace. I want to support my partner and do better for myself. I know my partner can help me move past this toilet anxiety, but I need to be able to manage it when they aren't available. I want to get a good job so I can better support both of us, but I can't keep playing this guessing game of when it's the right time to go to the toilet. I would appreciate any advice.

Poster Boy Baby Peter’s bedroom was a tribute to what the sweet guy was all about. Above his bed was a large poster of Bizzie TM, the Fairy Baby complete with large fluffy nappy. Around the walls were equally strident posters of adverts for nappies, plastic pants and other assorted paraphernalia from both ancient and modern campaigns for such products. Black and white Staydry plastic pants and Empire Waterproof Baby Pants adverts were lined up against colourful Racing Car Diapers and Pampers ads. Every available space said that this room was for a baby, a bed-wetter and a lover of nappies, Peter Noble was all of these. Peter had been a bed-wetter all his life. Over his twenty-five years his family searched for a solution to his problem but throughout his childhood, teenage years and now into his early twenties, both found nothing to stop the nightly (and often daily) soaked nappy. The thing was, Peter had become infatuated with the advertising and messaging that various companies had used over the years. That obsession turned into an emotional and physical turn-on and that led to totally accepting his need for protection. + Around the age of seven he was found to be autistic, which the doctors at the time said explained his continued bed-wetting. He had other internal social and mental problems that made getting on with people difficult and trusting anyone almost impossible. By the age of ten he’d more or less mentally locked himself away and it was only through his searching the net and finding all these advertisements, slogans and pictures that he began to come out of his shell. Something reverberating in his brain made them not only appealing but a sort of explanation... perhaps one only he understood. The images of babies and baby products sort of struck a chord with his own identification as a little boy who needed a nappy because if he didn’t wear one he’d wet everywhere. A nappy was safety and security so therefore his best friend... closely followed by his blankie, teddy and binkie. As he got older those iconic illustrations from features and commercials on the subject made him identify with all that they offered, so found them both calming and instructive. Now, as a twenty-something, although officially an adult he preferred to replicate those styles depicted in adverts. His nappies were thick, disposables colourful, plastic pants childish and fun, clothes juvenile though ultimately wonderfully comfortable. He loved the life he’d created and surprisingly, could function quite well with that look. To begin with his parents, and even a few doctors, had tried to dissuade him from clinging to that childlike approach. They soon found that denying him access brought out a sullen and very negative Peter. He would cry, throw tantrums and stop breathing, all of which was of no benefit to letting him be himself. It took a while but eventually those who were supposed to look after him realised their mistake and supported his own personality traits. As a result, he was happier and therefore his carers were also less stressed. + He’s now online and explains his autism through photographs and posts about his life. He encourages others who are like him and has become something of a poster boy to many who see themselves and their own autism as no longer a weakness or failing... simply because he doesn’t. He’s wants to remove any shame from autism spectrum disorder (ASD) and hopes that his many followers gain some hope if they are feeling down and pride in who and what they are. He’s an absolute beacon for those who have been placed on a spectrum (that can take in any number of conditions), but are able to see how he functions well by using age regression as a coping mechanism. He answers questions honestly and openly, which of course leaves him vulnerable but, what he does is important so puts that fact above any personal abuse or negativity. His bedroom may have the look of a child’s nursery, and maybe it smells of baby powder and urine but everyone can see it’s where he’s happiest... and after all... isn’t that the point. Our Poster Boy is a champion in nappies. (With thanks to all those who post photographs, blogs and information on autism and beyond)

Hi All I am thinking outside the box what kind of Catheter can stay in the bladder so urine can just drain into adult diapers as been in them since 2009 when I had an Spinal Injury L3L4L5S1 to the point of Intermitted urine Incontinence, intermitted retention, bowel constipation, as well as apparently purposely dehydrate myself due to my issues to the point my psychologist wants me to do exposure therapy to get "used to" wetting myself so I desensitize so its not traumatic and accept my incontinence as the intermitted no warning episodes is messing up my autism and mental health to the point I occasionally self harm because of it even though been 11 years. Catheter and bag system wont work for me as I wouldn't be able to insert it myself as well as a high fall risk and the tubing would move as well as tangle according to health professionals due to my many disabilities incl shaky hands will def ask the next urologist if the ever open and see people again in Australia public health

As someone on the autism spectrum, I've been trying to mask my issues since I was about 5 or 6. Tiled public bathrooms have always felt too loud for me. I have tried earbuds and headphones, but it still feels difficult. I grew up with constipation and frequent accident. Today I don't have any accidents like I did back then but I still feel attached to the feeling of diapers because I didn't get the chance to wear back then. It feels really embarrassing and frustrating. I have been through times where I don't need to wear them for awhile and then one day I just get tired of trying to wait or remembering to go. I've tried those reminder apps but it gets almost too repetitive. Does anyone know what I'm going through?

Northshore Care has recently supported Autism Speaks by participating in one of their walks in Chicago. I have voiced my disagreement to Northshore over this decision and informed them I will not buy from them as long as they support Autism Speaks. I also suggested they support the Autistic Self Advocacy Network instead. However, a representative of Northshore stated to me today that they stand by their decision to support Autism Speaks. I would like to ask the DD community to stand in solidarity with autistic people by boycotting Northshore until they stop supporting Autism Speaks and choose to support the Autistic Self Advocacy Network instead because there should be nothing about us without us. Thank you!

I've read on many an AB/DL forum how much of the community says they have aspergers or autism spectrum dissorder, and that they wear because of an innate desire for comfort and to solve sensory issues. Now, I am officially diagnosed with aspergers level 1(just autism spectrum dissorder now-a-days) and I know that I used to wear out of a sexual desire which over the years took on more of a comfort desire, that is now both comfort and necessity. My question is this: do you or someone you know in the ABDL community, if you are OK posting the answer here, have autism spectrum dissorder? If so, do you think it contributes to your/their lifestyle as a AB/DL in any way?

hi am i the only one that struggles with mental illness and autism for one i have aspergers , adhd , and paranoid schizophrenia and sometimes my mind play tricks on me saying no body cares for me and i do not matter some parts of me wounder is it true and that will i find my mommy or caregiver just asking because i am tired of feeling this way

So, whenever there is some sort of diaper emergency in the family, I get called in.