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This is a story that I hope will be relatable to some of the older members of the board, but not being older myself, I may have greatly missed the mark here. Please feel free to tell me how wrong I am in my assumptions about what it feels like to be an older person in this community. Too Old By: RambleLamb She rolled over in bed and sat up slowly as she draped her legs over the edge of the bed, the plastic sheet over the mattress crinkling loudly performing a duet with the rustling of her diaper as she rubbed her left hand with her right and then the right with her left, cursing her Arthritis mentally as she reached over to the bedside table and retrieved her glasses from their case and put them on. She'd been dreading this day for some time, much the same way she had dreaded this day the year prior and the year before that in the slow march toward her own inevitable demise. She was sixty today, and that was not okay with her. Looking down at her wrinkled hands, and the pale, wrinkled legs protruding from beneath her nightgown she sighed. Her right hand pulled the hem of her nightgown up to display the bulky overnight diaper beneath, the outer surface sharing the yellowy brown of a healing bruise from use in the night. She ran a hand over the surface and sighed heavily, reminiscing about a time when performing that simple action would have sent a pleasant tingle up her spine and been the catalyst to a far more intimate release, but now she was terminally dry in her lady parts, the ravages of time eroding her sex drive and making achieving orgasm an all day affair that she most certainly never had nor made time questing for. Rising from the bed, her knees and ankles popping at the introduction of her weight onto them, she straightened up a little, the muscles and joints in her back and hips straining and groaning as they struggled to get up and running. She shuffled slowly to the bathroom, leaning against the countertop as she worked to release the tapes of her diaper, cursing her Arthritis again as she winced and fumbled with the small swatches of tape on either side of the front of the sodden garment. She managed, like she always did, and the diaper plummeted to the floor with a heavy slapping sound as it hit the linoleum. She'd always enjoyed that sound, recalling the pride she'd felt in her younger years at hearing how heavy her diaper had become by the sharpness of the plop as it bounced off the porcelain and glass surfaces of the bathroom walls and fixtures. Slipping her nightgown off over her head, she turned and looked in the mirror. She saw the thinning silver hair on her head, the age spots and wrinkles that were now a part of her skin, the shriveled blobs that her breasts had become. She saw these things with her eyes, but her mind wasn't able to comprehend them. In her mind she was still that younger woman that would doll herself up in cute little baby outfits and crawl around without a care in the world, the one that would achieve sexual gratification from having her caregiver cradle her in their arms and rub the front of her diaper while she nursed a bottle or pacifier, her cute little squeals and grunts adding to the scene and to her role as the naughty baby. She pushed those memories from her mind, coming back to her current role of an older woman, twice widowed and alone, her play clothes and paraphernalia in a box somewhere in the attic, hidden away from the world never to return, a description she glumly assigned to her libido as she moved to the shower chair she'd had to have installed and set about starting her day. When she was in her twenties she'd been a free spirit, promiscuousness and fluid with her sexuality, not caring what parts her partner came equipped with, just that they were good to her and treated her the way she wanted to be treated. She'd had Daddy's and Mommy's, big brothers and big sisters, babysitters of all sorts, and had even devoted time to being a caregiver herself. Her first foray into the lifestyle had been with a man. She was still subscribing to the antiquated notion that she was supposed to only be with men at this point in her young adult life, that that was the only acceptable pairing because her parents had spoken quite negatively at length about the disgustingness of homosexuality and she certainly wasn't going to disappoint them by exploring that life, though she did quite enjoy the sight of women in diapers, she convinced herself that it was just her imagining herself as them and not being attracted to them. Bruce was her first Daddy, and he had been very much the wrong fit for her. They'd chatted for a while and agreed to meet and he'd forced himself on her and hit her a number of times when she didn't agree to do what he wanted her to. She'd left that relationship very quickly, fleeing in the night while he was out at work and going back home to nurse not only her physical wounds, but her emotional ones as well. She'd taken time away from the lifestyle after Bruce, skittish that he was the rule and not the exception, but the lifestyle was ingrained in her and she couldn't stay away for long, and unexpectedly found herself talking with a girl slightly older than herself at that time, finding that the girl fulfilled her emotionally far better than Bruce had. When they met she'd achieved her first orgasm in her life as Jane, the girl, licked her most intimate area and played with her breasts. Convinced she was gay, she fell in love with Jane quite quickly, attributing her sexual awakening as a sign that Jane was the person she was meant to be with for the rest of her life, but that was just her being naive, and when she'd come home to find Jane in bed with one of their friends she'd felt so hurt and betrayed and was told that she was being ridiculous, that her feelings weren't fair to who Jane was and she'd left with her head spinning and filled with dark thoughts that closed in on her and pushed her to try and take her own life. Over the years she learned about the myriad of sexual identifiers, gay and straight were the obvious ones, but she learned about bisexuality, polyamory, and asexuality and the more she learned the more she saw the mistakes she'd made in her past and grew emotionally and saw that her relationships were more healthy because she was better able to articulate her own wants and needs and understand better those of her partners. By the time she was involved with the man that would be her first marriage, she was feeling like she'd advanced emotionally by leaps and bounds. She and Charles were married in a small park near their apartment, her parents and a few friends in attendance of the brief ceremony. She wore a simple dress, nothing fancy, but it made her feel beautiful and the way he looked at her when they exchanged their vows made her feel like she was the only person in the world as far as he was concerned. They'd gone to the aquarium for their honeymoon, neither having the money to go on a trip, but both being content with Daddy and his little girl walking hand and hand in the aquarium, the dress she'd worn for the wedding being replaced with her shortalls and a cutely patterned diaper beneath. Charles taught her that she could be what she wanted whenever she wanted, allowing her to explore her desires out in the world while also being respectful to those around them that weren't a part of their game. She'd assumed prior to his education of her that playing baby in public would be like things she'd read in the stories on the internet, caricatures of reality with grown adults waddling around in full diapers on complete display as if nothing was wrong with that. With his help, she discovered that she could wear a diaper and cute clothes and no one would know, she could be in public as baby with her Daddy and feel safe and happy and the worst that would happen would be that a few people would give her odd looks. She was with Charles for three years before he was killed by a drunk driver while coming home from work one night. Her world had fallen apart after that, understandably so, and she'd tried and failed once again to take her own life, being institutionalized by her parents for her own safety. In the hospital she'd learned to handle her emotions, worked to come up with solutions to her problems that were less drastic and permanent than suicide or self harm in general, and left the hospital with a more hopeful outlook on her life after it had been restarted with Charles' death. Her second marriage came a year later, a wife this time, and Mary had taught her that she wanted to be forced into things. She'd been afraid at first, memories of Bruce and his abusive treatment of her filling her with doubt and trepidation, which she discussed with Mary and found that they quite easily worked together to find a comfortable way for both of them to get what they wanted and ease into the things she was concerned about, finding that her fears were unnecessary because Mary was not Bruce, and she could force her out of her adulthood and into her babyhood without hurting her or making her feel like she was less than a person outside of the confines of a scene. Her parents had disowned her when she'd told them that she was marrying a woman, and that had greatly upset and disappointed her, but she'd weathered that sadness and stood with her wife to be on the day and felt nothing but love and contentment, her feelings toward her parents shifting to pity for their narrow mindedness instead of turning them on herself and feeling like she was somehow wrong for going against their idea of what she should be. Over her years with Mary she explored other things outside of just baby play, trying pet play with her, occasionally trading her diapers and baby clothes, or clothes in general, for a litter box and a plug with a tail attached to it. She'd spent many nights cuddled next to Mary on the bed or the couch with her head on her lover's lap having her hair stroked as she closed her eyes and purred softly, blushing when she'd crawl off the couch and to her litter box to squat and pee while she and Mary looked at each other, this usually led to Mary taking her to bed and pleasuring her in a variety of ways, forcing her to please Mary in ways that she commanded and ending with the two asleep in each other's arms spent and happy. When Mary got breast cancer they'd discussed her options with the doctors, but found that there really weren't any given the aggressiveness of the cancer. A few months later, in her own bed with her wife holding her hand, Mary passed peacefully after a carefully crafted cocktail of pills was ingested, washed down with milk to keep her from throwing them up. Before she'd called the paramedics, she'd laid there with Mary and cried, wanting to join her wife on the next leg of her journey, but knowing that Mary wouldn't approve, and throughout their time together she'd never disobeyed or disappointed her wife, her Mommy, or her Master and wouldn't sully her final moments with her by going against her wishes. The loss of Mary had forced her to examine herself as a person, to look within and find that part of her that could be comfortable with either being alone or with only enjoying companionship in platonic ways or in the form of one night stands. She was in her forties now, dangerously close to being half a century old, but she still felt young and still wanted to play with other people but she found that the world had gone and gotten faster and less concerned with meaningful relationships in her time contented and away from the scene. She'd spent many nights reading people's posts online looking for playmates and partners, noting how few of them wanted anyone beyond their twenties with resentment and feelings of inadequacy. She often felt like the chaperon at a high school dance, the designated adult in charge of quelling lusty thoughts of fun and frivolity with here mere existence. She indulged in her fantasies alone save for the random encounter with someone that had a fetish for older women in diapers. She wasn't allowed to be a baby in those times, that was deemed unacceptable by those people, they just wanted her to wear the diapers and pleasure them or herself for their enjoyment and she found herself unfulfilled, feeling like she'd regressed socially and emotionally to a point in her life where she was repressed and compromising her own wants and needs just so she wasn't alone with her thoughts at night when the memories of her setbacks and losses decided to plague her. As the years went by she found herself becoming less and less able to relate to the people she was talking to online, having to look up terms they used just to be able to respond but feeling less than confident in her ability to successfully carry on conversations or relate awash in a sea of people that were half her age or more, and she eventually gave up trying and stuck to playing alone entirely. She briefly entertained the idea of trying to meet vanilla people her own age, but reading the profiles on the various dating sites geared toward older people made her feel like she was too wild for anyone she looked at, and she abandoned that endeavor as well. Out of the shower and freshly diapered, a simple outfit of stretchy waisted pants and a floral blouse to cover her, she sat down at her desk and worked on her application to the assisted living facility she'd seen on her trips to the market. She'd been reluctant to resign herself to the fate of being stuffed into a waiting room for death, but then she'd thought about the fact that with nurses and doctors around to take care of her she could simply focus her energies on being a fun old lady, making friends and filling her remaining time with something other than failed human interaction and bitterness at the lives not fulfilled that she'd had to let go of because of forces outside of her control. She knew she wouldn't be able to play baby anymore, that would be forcing her kink onto others, but she felt like at the very least she wouldn't be the only one in diapers and she could pretend that she was somewhere else in her mind. Over the weeks she hired college kids to come and take her boxes from the attic and pack up her belongings so she could move. One of the boys had brought his girlfriend along one of the days and she'd spent the whole day talking to her, having tea and looking at photo albums, and for that day she didn't feel alone. The girl had offered to help her when her diaper had unfortunately leaked after a great amount of laughter listening to a story about a Halloween party where the girl had ended up drunkenly trick or treating with her friends, not realizing in her inebriated state that she'd walked home and stood in front of her parents with a pillowcase half full of candy exclaiming "Trick or treat" like she was a little girl again. She'd excused herself, flushing hotly with embarrassment when the girl explained that she was a nursing student and helped take care of her grandmother, dashing the notion that she was connecting with the girl on a peer level and reminding her once again that she was just an old woman and rather than friendship she was garnering pity from the girl. The girl ignored the declination and hooked arms with her, helping her to the bathroom and finding some dry clothes for her to change into before taking the initiative to remove her pants for her and her diaper, allowing her to stabilize herself on the girl's shoulders as she gently wiped her clean and put a new diaper on her quickly and efficiently, conducting herself in a clinical and professional manner before helping her into the dry pants. The girl had washed her wet pants for her and offered words of compassion as they sat back down. The girl had told her that her grandmother was incontinent as well, and up until she became so senile she couldn't really comprehend what was happening, she'd been embarrassed by having to be cared for like a baby, but the girl explained that she always felt that life was cyclical, we start off unable to feed and dress ourselves and need to have our every need met by someone else and that's how we finish our lives and it was kind of beautiful to her in its simplicity. She'd told the girl that she didn't mind, over sharing that she enjoyed the security and comfort that her diapers brought to her, garnering a raised eyebrow and a slight smile and blush from the girl before she told her that she was proud of her for being so brave and accepting of her age and infirmities. The girl had exchanged contact information with her when the boys were done for the day and they'd hugged and she felt like she genuinely had made a connection with the girl after all and went to bed that night feeling truly happy for the first time in a long while. After finally moving into the assisted living facility, she contacted the girl on a whim and began an online pen pal relationship with her which quickly blossomed into the girl coming once a week to visit her and spend time with her. The once a week evolved into several times a week and the girl began to open up to her about her personal life, talking to her about her failing relationship with her boyfriend and the pressures of school and the prospect of moving out of her parents house and the worries she had about her ability to survive on her own in the big scary world. All of this culminated in the girl expressing her desire to go back to being a little girl again, safe in the knowledge that she was loved and taken care of and only had to worry about cleaning her room and eating her vegetables. She'd put her hand on the girl's knee and smiled at her warmly, telling her that she didn't have to feel like she always needed to be an adult, that she could explore the feelings and desires of returning to a younger and simpler time in her life while also juggling her adult responsibilities. The girl had relaxed noticeably after that and the conversation turned to other things but the subject had tentatively come up the following week with the girl explaining that she'd stopped on the way home at a playground and sat on the swings for a while, and how it had been surprisingly very fun just to feel young and carefree for that short amount of time. Over time the girl had inched further and further into exploring the feelings she was having, showing up one day with her hair in pigtails and a cute little sundress on, standing before the older woman with arms outstretched as she twirled in place to show off her outfit like a proud little girl that had dressed herself for the first time. Throwing caution to the wind, she'd patted her lap to beckon the girl to her, and swelled with happiness when she'd carefully gotten up onto the chair with her, her weight mostly supported by the plush arm of the chair rather than the calcium deficient bones of the aged woman. The girl smelled like bubblegum or something else youthful and sweet, and she smiled and rested her head on the older woman's shoulder as she was hugged and had her back rubbed softly. The girl had quietly confessed, mostly into the space between the two as she had her face pointed down with her head on the older woman's shoulder, that her grandmother had passed a few months earlier and that she felt the same bond between herself and the older woman she was currently with that she did with her grandmother, but not in a blood relation way. The conversation had stopped there, the girl blushing hotly and excusing herself, making an excuse for why she had to suddenly depart, leaving the older woman to write a very long and personal email to her young friend. Dearest Samantha, You left today very abruptly and I'm worried about why that is. I want you to know that if you're feeling something about our friendship that concerns you that you can talk to me about it. I promise you that there is nothing you could say to me that would make me cherish our friendship any less. As I've told you before, I was married twice before, once to a man and once to a woman, and both of them taught me a lot about who I was and what I could be, they helped me to see that what I choose to be and do in my life is no one's business but my own and that of my partner and I'd very much like to be able to help you in that same way if you're struggling with trying to understand yourself. When you were here today you looked very cute in your sundress and pigtails, you retained your wonderful personality while also allowing yourself to let go of the misconception that you need to dress and act your age, you seemed very happy, like you'd stumbled upon a profound personal secret that gave you a deep satisfaction and fulfillment for a need that you may not have been entirely aware was so strong within you. If I'm not being too forward, I think you're discovering that you're little, which is to say that you're someone that finds enjoyment in indulging in simpler or cuter things and behaviors, like stopping at a playground and swinging on the swingset or wearing your hair in pigtails. I believe that if you explore these desires you'll find that there's a whole world out there that will provide you with pleasures that satisfy them and give you something that keeps you balanced in the times where you're required to be a responsible adult. I hope that you read this and continue to explore these feelings I believe you're having and if you decide to come for another visit I hope that you'll feel comfortable asking questions that may make your tummy feel like it's doing summersaults. If you don't decide to come back I understand, I will miss you greatly, but I also don't want you to feel like you need to force yourself to be uncomfortable for my benefit. You're a very bright young woman and I know that you'll have a successful career and a very happy life and I will always cherish meeting you and every second we've spent together. Thank you for being a bright spot in my life when I needed it the most. Yours always, Sylvia P.S. If I'm at all correct in any of my assumptions, I advise you to search "Ageplay" and see if anything in those results speaks to you. Several days went by without a response from Samantha, and life went on for Sylvia, it wasn't as exciting or interesting as it would have been had the younger girl come to visit, but Sylvia knew that the girl needed time to process everything and that maybe she wouldn't come back, that she'd been scared off by the older woman and her strange email and would tell the story to her girlfriends and they'd all laugh at the silly old woman and her bizarre advice and predilections. A full week after Samantha had rushed out and Sylvia had sent her email the younger woman showed up for a visit. Sylvia smiled when she saw the girl wearing a pink corduroy pair of overalls, her hair again in pigtails, and her fashionable sandals replaced with pink velcro secured shoes. The girl looked like a large toddler as she stood in the entryway of the room and Sylvia took a gamble and patted her lap again to beckon the girl to her. Samantha had nervously shuffled closer after closing the door to the room, her cheeks pinkening as she moved closer, once again taking a place on the older woman's lap and once again resting her head on her shoulder as the older woman hugged her and gently rocked them both in the chair. "Did you look at what I suggested?" Sylvia asked, knowing that the girl being there dressed as she was meant she absolutely had. Samantha nodded but didn't say anything. Sylvia smiled. "Good girl." she praised, daring to kiss the top of the girl's head as she rubbed her back in small circles. "Did you learn anything?" she asked. Again, Samantha nodded but said nothing. Sylvia pulled the girl away from her and gently lifted her chin with two of her fingers. "Did a kitty get your tongue on the way over here?" she asked, her smile warm and her tone soft and sweet. Samantha smiled and let out a small giggle as she shook her head. "No-" she paused and her face flushed again before she continued. "Nana." she added, her eyes beginning to water. Sylvia's heart melted and she hugged the girl to her again, shushing her as she began to rock them both again. "Hush now, sweet girl, Nana's here." she cooed softly. As Samantha began to cry tears of happiness her thumb slipped into her mouth, and Sylvia felt her heart fill with love and a sense of completeness she thought she'd never feel again as she realized she wasn't too old to be in this kind of relationship, she just needed to adapt her role to find something that fit her best and that role was one of a loving Nana to an adorable adult little girl.