Hiya friends! Jessica here again!
I thought it would be interesting to share a little bit more about myself. I took a big step yesterday by introducing myself to the world. I am Jessica, and I am a woman. That isn’t all that I am, though. I am Jessica, and I am a Little girl.
Uh oh. I can hear the alarms going off. My dear readers may wonder what I mean, especially since I have already indicated that I’m in my early fifties. Don’t worry, as immortalized in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, I’m mostly harmless.
So, what do I mean when I say that I am a Little girl? I truly believe that every single one of us has a child within us to some extent. Like the scene in The Santa Clause 2, when Scott Calvin, a.k.a. Santa Claus, gave gifts to the teachers, unlocking their inner child and allowing them to play. That is what it is for me: unlocking the little girl inside, getting away from the pressures of adult life, and playing as a little girl.
See what I mean? I’m mostly harmless. Yet, I’m writing a journal reflection about it, so there has to be more to it than that, right? Of course there is. So, grab your towel and stick out your thumb to hear about my journey to discover Little Jessica.
There are years of memories to rummage through, but key details seen in the rear-view mirror have shown me that Little Jessica has always been part of me, even though I didn’t realize it until years later. The first such memory is when I was a child, not much older than Little Jessica. I had a cousin who was the same age as I was, and we were close. She was like a sister to me. I can clearly remember being at her house and playing with her Barbies. We would dress them up and play together. It was sweet and innocent, and it was a memory that remained etched in the recesses of my memories.
Ok, so two children were playing with Barbies. Big deal. Many children do that and remember it years later. This isn’t some earth-shattering news. True, but for me, it was important. It was important then, and it is still important now. Yet there’s still more in my past. Small things that, like playing with Barbies, have no real meaning on their own, so I’ll just move past list-dumping onto something a little more substantial, some might even say bordering on crazy.
As far back as my teens, I would talk to myself. I know, a lot of people do that. In my case, though, I would actually talk back. I would respond in what was usually a childish voice. Full conversations and even arguments. It was always done when I was alone. If anyone were to witness it, they might wonder if I were crazy. There were times I even wondered that as well, as the second voice would often become completely hyper and chaotic. This continued well into adulthood and wasn’t always completely private. As an adult, there were times when it was reduced to whispers to avoid drawing attention to myself, yet the hyper intensity of the other voice remained.
Talking to myself was, once again, mostly harmless. There was, however, another aspect that was anything but harmless. No, it didn’t hurt me or others, but it certainly didn’t reflect well upon me.
I have lived a very stressful life, which is beyond the scope of this entry. Needless to say, I’ve managed to swim upstream and remain relatively in control, no matter how exhausting it became. I had to hold tightly onto control in order to survive the currents and avoid being swept over the waterfall downstream. So, when that second voice asserted itself and threw a temper tantrum when things didn’t go exactly as planned, I didn’t understand it. I was on the outside, watching myself whining like a petulant child. I was embarrassed and powerless to stop it. When I was later in control again and asked why I had behaved the way I had, my humiliation drove me to pretend I had no idea what they were talking about. I’m not proud of lying, but I didn’t have an answer, and I was too scared to admit it.
If you say I’m crazy, I will respond with this: We’re all mad here.
Now the clock ticks closer to the present day. In 2020, during the COVID pandemic, I suffered a stroke, which landed me in the hospital. Obviously, I survived and even recovered from it. Even with the recovery, I still have some minor issues to deal with now. One of those issues was that I would sometimes urinate in my pants after going to the bathroom, having thought I had finished. To protect myself from that, I started wearing adult pull-up diapers. It was nerve-wracking going into the local retail pharmacy to buy my first pack of diapers. Wearing them, though, filled me with a sense of comfort that I couldn’t really explain.
Around the same time in Second Life, I met a friend who discussed wearing diapers. It was the first time I was made aware of the Adult Baby Diaper Lover (ABDL) community. I learned more from her, and I researched it online myself. At home, I made the decision to wear the pull-ups, whether I needed to or not, because I liked the comfort they offered. In Second Life, I sometimes wore full pink diapers to bring that comfort into the virtual world as well. I met the description of a Diaper Lover, but I certainly didn’t relate to the Adult Baby.
As time progressed, I transitioned to pink in Second Life. Pink hair. Pink eyes. Pink outfits. Before that time, my hair was black with red highlights, and my clothes were a variety of colors, but I often favored black and red. Switching to pink was a drastic step for me, but I didn’t really think much of it at the time. It was another woman in Second Life who noticed something different about me, something I didn’t know about myself. Through her, I learned that I was a baby girl. It was a general term that could indicate any type of younger girl, from a teen down to a baby, but I knew I wasn’t an adult baby, and I didn’t really think too much of it, other than doing a little more playful things like a girl would do.
Then, in 2023, something frightening happened. That little girl in me suddenly and unexpectedly emerged. It was like the temper tantrums I experienced previously, but magnified. I wasn’t acting like a petulant child this time. I was literally acting like a little girl, talking like a little girl, playing like a little girl. For all intents and purposes, for that time, my mind was that of a little girl. And while all this happened, I was watching from the sidelines, unable to regain control.
After extensive exploration and discussion, I discovered that I was a Little in the ABDL community, and it appeared that my Little was probably around four years old. This was initially frightening to me. How could I be an adult and have the mind of a four-year-old girl sometimes? It put every one of my past experiences in perspective. The Barbies. The second voice, which was my Little. The temper tantrums that burst out, the Little making herself heard. And when she finally came out, she didn’t want to go back, having been suppressed for so long. It all made sense, and once it made sense, it was no longer scary.
Today, I still wear pull-ups daily. The medical condition I needed it for had stopped a long time ago, but I still wear them for comfort. Last week, I even started wearing full diapers on Saturdays. Oh, and guess what? Today is Saturday, so I wore them for the second time today. I spend time watching shows like My Little Pony. I even found my stuffed animals and am cuddling with them again. I have a lot of stuffies! They’re so FLUFFY!
Oh, and I know what you’re thinking. You want to know if I use the diapers for the intended purpose. My answer is: To a point. I will not defecate in them if I can help it. Urination, though, when I’m wearing the full diapers, yes. For the pull-ups, I might, but not often. If I used them all the time, it would cause me to become dependent upon them, and the bills related to them would skyrocket. So, yes, they are used in moderation.
So, there you have it. I am Jessica, and I am a Little. Maybe we’ll watch My Little Pony or play with Barbies together sometime. It would be fun.