C - Casual / Convinced

I woke up with a start. My mother was entering the bedroom to tell us that we should get up to go to school. She opened the shutters and went downstairs to prepare breakfast as usual. I waited for my sister to go to the loos to quickly take off the diaper I kept all night long and go down the loft bed. I had to hide it, but where? As I heard my sister coming back, I put it hurriedly in what was the closest to me : my schoolbag.

Morning preparation just went without a hitch, but my mind was blocked on the diaper stuck between my maths book and my French exercise book. We lived about 15 minutes away from middle school in a small town in Brittany. I used to go there walking while my mother would drop my sister to primary school on the other side of the city. I had a friend who lived halfway, so I used to knock at his door and finish the trip with him. It left me with 3 streets to find a bin in which I could throw the diaper away. Starting an ABDL life does not go without logistical issues…
I waved at my mother and my sister who were driving away and I started to look out. There was a wheelie bin just at the end of the street but I was too afraid my neighbours could see me. Everyone knew each other in the vicinity. Then there was a path going down, ending near a much-frequented route. Middle school was on the left side, but turning right led to town along the road. I took a chance. 300 metres away, I saw a bin beside a bus stop. Two people were seated under the shelter waiting for the bus. They had no view on the bin. My heart was pounding hard in my chest. I turned my back to the road, I put my schoolbag down between my feet and I threw the diaper away pushing it deeply before flying off at a quick pace. Going back on my usual path made me feel relieved. Still, the experience upset me a bit. I was good to chat with my friend about everything and nothing. The rest of the day went along naturally. I was in a pretty good mood, the preceding night looping in the back of my mind.

The very same night, I snubbed the pink pack. I felt like I was on a cloud, almost amused by the appeal of the last weeks. It was over.
On Tuesday, same attitude.
On Wednesday, I had a little nervous laugh when I thought about my night in a diaper. Over?
On Thursday, I found heaps of reasons not to do it again.
On Friday, self persuasion had not been successful.
It was one of the weekends we would spend at our father’s. My mother put three diapers in my sister’s bag. I got jealous.

My father’s flat was small and there was not much to do for us there. He used to bring us to parks, to the movies or to restaurants with playgrounds, but he always stayed away. Now I realise that he did not quite figure his place out in that new situation. The adult person I am today would take him into her loving arms, reassuring him saying that it is okay, that we will find ways to stay a family anyhow. But 12 years-old are ego-centred and I had a hard time sweeping away the abandonment feeling that stuck in those moments.

We came back on Sunday evening. Shower, first attempt to put on my pyjama pants, theatrical reject, positioning the plastic step, slipping into the diaper, getting eventually dressed for the night, diving under the duvet ; the same pattern which will repeat itself an uncountable number of times. Sometimes I even proposed to my sister to take my CD player before sleeping. When I heard the music coming out of the headset, I made the most of the opportunity massaging the diaper. I was less serene than when I knew she was asleep but that little sense of danger thrilled me. I kept on hiding the diaper in my schoolbag in the morning to throw it away in the same bin. I always made a little prayer for nobody to be waiting for the bus next to it. Brittany weather often was on my side on that matter.

One day, the awakening was especially hard. I had woken up several times during the night and as I had put a diaper on the evening before, I enjoyed its sensation for a long time before falling back to sleep. With part of my mind dozing still, I found my way to the loos. Close the door, put the latch down, pull the pants down, pull the diaper dow… The diaper ?! I completely forgot to take it off ! But thinking about it… I was there now, and it was there still, and my bladder pointed clearly out the fact that it was in too, and after all a diaper is made for this, isn’t it ? So what if I really used it for the first time ? I opened my legs a bit wilder and instinctively stared at the ceiling, as if the diaper could be ashamed of me watching it fill up. Fail. Nothing would come out. I was a bit stressed and worried that such a small diaper could not absorb so much liquid. I kept it but I decided to sit on the toilet and after a couple of seconds… A sound, a relief, such a sweet warmth…
Wearing diapers could have been just a passing fancy, but that first use had been a game changer. It triggered a new lifestyle. I was a casual diaper girl, I became a convinced ABDL.