Skip to content

Aging in the AB/DL and Babyfur Community

It’s strange to think that I’ve been part of the AB/DL community for nearly three decades. Back in the mid-90s, when dial-up internet was the norm and AOL chat rooms were the frontier of online interaction, I was just starting to explore my feelings about diapers and regression. I remember typing those tentative questions into search engines: “Why do I like diapers?” and “Are there others like me?” It felt like shouting into the void, hoping for an echo. When I finally found those early AB/DL spaces and forums, it was like discovering a hidden world — one that validated my feelings and made me feel less alone.

When I first dipped my toes into the AB/DL community, I started as an artist, scanning doodles and uploading them to the Internet. I loved creating visual representations of the feelings and fantasies that I, and so many others, held close to our hearts. But as I began to explore the community more deeply, I realized that there was something uniquely powerful about storytelling. Words had the ability to capture the nuances of our experiences — the vulnerability, the comfort, the joy, and even the struggles — in a way that resonated on a deeply personal level. So, I picked up my pen (or, more accurately, my keyboard) and started writing.

At first, my stories were simple, almost experimental. I wrote about the things I knew: the longing for a safe space, the comfort of regression, and the quiet moments of self-discovery. I shared these stories on forums and early AB/DL websites, never expecting much of a response. But to my surprise, people connected with them. They saw themselves in my words, and they reached out to tell me how much my stories meant to them. It was incredibly validating, and it gave me the confidence to keep going.

Over the years, I honed my craft. I explored different genres and styles, from slice-of-life tales to fantastical adventures. I wrote about characters who were navigating their AB/DL identities in a world that didn’t always understand them, and I delved into the emotional complexities of regression and ageplay. Each story was a labor of love, and each one brought me closer to the community I cherished.

Building a fanbase was a gradual process, but it was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. I connected with readers from all walks of life, each with their own unique stories and perspectives. They shared their thoughts on my work, offered feedback, and even inspired new ideas. Through my writing, I was able to create a space where people felt seen and understood. It was more than just a fanbase — it was a community within a community, bound together by shared experiences and mutual support.

Fast forward to 2024, and I found myself at Further Confusion. I was lucky to room with fellow AB/DLs and open-minded friends, which meant I could fully embrace my crinkly side without reservation. The con itself was full of activities, from panels to art shows to late-night hangouts. I explored the city with my friends, soaking in the camaraderie and the sense of belonging that comes from being surrounded by people who “get it.”

But amidst the fun, there was a lingering sense of isolation. At the babyfur meet and greet, I found myself in a crowded room, surrounded by faces I didn’t recognize. The atmosphere wasn’t as relaxed or open as I’d hoped, but I was willing to overlook that if it meant connecting with others. What struck me most, though, was how few people knew who I was. Many of the attendees were born around the time I graduated from high school. By the time they discovered the AB/DL and babyfur community, they were influenced by content and creators from generations beyond my own. It was a sobering moment — one where I had to confront my age and my place in a community that has evolved so much since I first joined.

At first, it was depressing. I felt like a relic, a reminder of a bygone era. But as I reflected on the experience, I realized that aging in the AB/DL and babyfur community doesn’t have to mean fading into irrelevance. Instead, it can be an opportunity for growth and renewal. When I returned home from the convention, I made a decision: I would work to expand my reach and connect with the younger generations in the community. I wanted to understand their experiences, their influences, and their perspectives. I wanted to create content that resonated with them while still honoring my own journey.

This shift in mindset has been incredibly rewarding. I’ve started having more conversations with younger AB/DLs and babyfurs, listening to their stories and learning about the ways they engage with the community. I’ve incorporated their thoughts and experiences into my work, creating content that bridges the gap between generations. It’s not about chasing trends or trying to fit in — it’s about fostering understanding and inclusivity. It’s about showing that the AB/DL and babyfur community is a space for everyone, regardless of age.

Aging in this community isn’t always easy. It comes with its own set of challenges, from feeling out of touch to grappling with the passage of time. But it also comes with opportunities — opportunities to grow, to connect, and to contribute in new ways. I’ve learned that relevance isn’t about staying the same; it’s about evolving and embracing change. And as I continue on this journey, I’m reminded of why I fell in love with this community in the first place: it’s a place where we can all be ourselves, no matter where we are in life.

So, to my fellow AB/DLs and babyfurs who are navigating the complexities of aging in this community, I say this: don’t be afraid to embrace the changes. Reach out to the younger generations, listen to their stories, and share your own. Together, we can create a community that’s vibrant, inclusive, and timeless.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *