I spent a month in diapers that has now turned into nine years in diapers. When I was seven years old, my mom went into the hospital with ‘female problems,’ and she didn’t get out for a month. Since I lived alone with my mother, she had made arrangements with a neighbor for me to stay with them while mom was hospitalized.

The neighbors were a hard working couple who ran a family-style restaurant. They took turns working long hours, and when one parent was working, the other parent was at home, but usually sleeping, and that left the kids to take care of themselves. The children were two girls and one boy. Jamie was the oldest at thirteen. Carol was six, and the boy, Jack, was two. Carol still had nighttime bedwetting accidents and had to wear pull-ups.

While I was there, Jamie and I were joking around about putting me in a diaper and having me say funny things like “I’m a BIG GIRL now” and stuff like that.
Well, that night, while I was sleeping, Jamie put me in one of her sister’s pull-ups with Cinderella printed on the front! When I woke up in the morning and realized what I was wearing, I ripped it off, but Jamie heard me getting up. She came into the bedroom and held me down and put another one on me. She told that if I told her parents that she made me put it on, she would show our whole school the pictures that she had taken of me in a diaper while I was sleeping. So I decided that I might as well go along with her because if those pictures got out, I would be ruined.

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