Dear Miss MacDonald,

For as long as I can remember I have enjoyed wearing nappies and plastic pants (or 'rubbers' as they were called in 60’s and 70’s Britain). It first started when I was about five, when I would secretly put on my younger sister's nappies and rubbers in bed, and then carefully return them to her drawer in the morning. I was still wetting the bed up to about the age of seven, and at that time I remember Mum threatening to put me back in nappies, pointing to two pairs of rubbers drying on the fire-guard saying, “There’s a pair for your sister and a pair for you”. Unfortunately she never carried out the threat, but that particular incident remained a very powerful image in my mind for many years.

Marriage followed and I would continue to dress in secret, adding little girl style dresses and nighties etc. to my growing collection in the attic.

About five years ago, following the failure of my marriage and the selling of the marital home, I moved back to my mum's on the understanding it would be a temporary arrangement until I got my own place. Mum was now a widow, and I think was happy to have some company. Shortly after moving in I had an overwhelming desire to confess my secret to my mother, and one day (after a few failed attempts) I sat down with her and, through tears of shame, told her everything.

I told her about my nappy wearing, the collection of dresses, bibs, rubbers and Mary Jane shoes etc., I even told her about my chosen name of 'Jillian' (which was the name Mum had picked for me had I been born a girl). To my amazement Mum didn’t bat an eyelid, and just hugged me saying “Is that all, I thought you had something really serious to tell me”. It was a fantastic relief for me to tell someone about my alter-ego, especially someone as close as Mum, and we sat there for ages hugging each other, with me in floods of tears.  I asked her if she wanted to meet Jillian and again Mum said, “Well, I’ve heard so much about this young lady, I think it’s about time we got acquainted”.

I rushed upstairs to my room and ten minutes later was standing in front of Mum wearing nappies and rubbers, a short lemon baby dress, frilly ankle socks and a pair of patent black Mary Jane shoes. Again there were more hugs and tears and we chatted for hours about my various adventures as Jillian. Although I was, to say the least, absolutely elated at the way Mum had taken the news, I told her that I still felt guilty about burdening her with my confession. However, she simply took hold of my hand and said, “Listen, the only thing I wish for is for you and your sister to be healthy and happy, if you need to dress up occasionally it's really no big deal”. More hugs and tears followed, and I spent the rest of the day talking to Mum whilst dressed as Jillian.

Following my ‘confessional’ Mum said it would OK with her if I dressed up at weekends as Jillian – I wore nappies and rubbers, dresses, hair ribbons, Mary Jane shoes etc during the day and nappies, rubbers and nighties at night time. Gradually, however, I would spend more and more time as Jillian, in fact so much so that Mum started to call me 'Jillian' even when I was in male clothes, or when she phoned me in work!

Being called Jillian and being referred to teasingly as “her little girl” was very humiliating, and yet at the same time extremely exciting. Over time I have gently persuaded Mum to baby me more and more. For example, I suggested to her that Jillian should always be put into a bib when eating or drinking, and that she should be sent to bed at 8:00pm weekdays and 9:00pm weekends. Another suggestion I made was to have a rubber sheet put onto my bed “in case of any accidents”. Mum is happy to play along, as I think she enjoys as much as me the close mother/daughter bond that has developed between us. This bond was made complete when about three years ago I asked Mum if she would object if I started to wet my nappy during the night.

She was a bit surprised and wanted to know if I had some kind of infection – that’s mothers for you! I simply told her it was something I needed to make me feel completely like a baby and that it was also quite a pleasant sensation just ‘letting go’ feeling the spreading warmth. It was then that Mum said that if I was going to start wetting then she would help change me, and that would give her a chance to check for the development of nappy rash! What self-respecting adult baby could refuse such an offer? Since then Mum, or 'Mummy' as I now call her, changes my nappy at least twice a day – once in the morning and once at night (after my evening bath).

At night time, once Mum has put me into a clean nappy, rubbers and a nightie, I am then given a bottle of milk formula (Sainsbury’s own brand) and sent upstairs to bed. Mum will usually read me a story (from my sister's old 'Ladybird Book of Bedtime Stories for Girls') and after popping into place my NUK size 4 dummy, Mum kisses me on the forehead, and she always says the same thing to me:

“Goodnight Jillian – sweet dreams.”

I have included a photo one of me in Mum's garden, and one of Mum hanging out my rubbers on the washing line ( I have her permission because her face cannot be seen).
Regards,

Jillian

 

You should have a high chair made, with a fold-over tray. I bet you would love it.
Susan