The other day, I was getting ready to run some errands with Daddy. I was sitting on my side of the bed when I dropped something. When I bent forwards to pick it up, I found a small box underneath the bed. I had no clue what was in the box, so I picked it up and opened it. Lo and behold I found the make up I had been looking for and couldn’t find! I was so excited by this. Then, there was another smaller box in this box, and I had no clue what was in it. So, I opened it, and I found my bouncy balls and collection of Kinder Surprise Egg toys. I thought I was excited when I discovered my makeup; I was like 20% more excited finding my stash of bouncy balls. See, I love bouncy balls, and whenever I’m out doing stuff, including pretending to be an adult, and I come across a bouncy ball machine, I buy a bouncy ball. I don’t do anything with them other than put them my bouncy ball box, but man I love them. As I set my bouncy ball box in my nightstand drawer for safekeeping, I had a thought. It wasn’t a pleasant thought. I found myself thinking how many thirty-something-year-old women keep a box of bouncy balls in their nightstand. Or has four bottles of rainbow shower gel with a unicorn on the bottle that smells like cupcakes that she went crazy over buying and threatening bodily harm if she wasn’t able to get. Then I deep sighed and shook off the thought so I could finish getting ready to do stuff with Daddy.
Even though I had shaken off those thoughts for that day, they haven’t exactly stayed gone. They pop up here and there while I’m going about my business. Having these thoughts is extremely uncomfortable and unpleasant. And it makes me feel, for lack of a better word, icky inside. I feel like there’s this icky slimy goo covering me from head to toe on the inside. Then there’s this internal war going on inside of me. It was telling me that I am too old for this nonsense. Nagging at me that I shouldn’t want to spend my money enlarging my stuffie collection or eyeing a new sippy cup or the possibility of getting a pacifier.
I know the reason why I feel like this. It’s because I’m not always comfortable in my skin. Feeling uncomfortable with self-acceptance is something that happens to everyone. I feel like this happens though more to littles in the community than any other group and the reason why is because there tends to be a lot of hatred and misunderstanding of those who are little. And lately, I’ve seen a lot of that hate online.
For some reason during the past month or so, my time spent on Tumblr has been checking out other little blogs and reblogging images from them. Not only have I been reblogging tons of adorable pictures, but I’ve also done a lot of reading from the owners of these blogs. They’ve talked a great deal about some of the nasty messages they get from people because of being little and having a caregiver and referring to that caregiver as the mommy, daddy, auntie, or whatever. Caregivers get told that they’re sick and perverted people, pedophiles who need to be locked up, or how creepy and dysfunctional their relationship dynamic is. Reading these posts just, ripped my heart out. The same happens on Facebook. When I post Caregiver/ little-related pictures and memes on my page and in groups as well, I sometimes I’ve gotten a few snarky comments. These are people who I thought were my friends (they’re gone now). It happens in both kinky and erotica reader groups (there are quite a few authors out there who write ageplay erotica) on Facebook.
People in the kink groups will talk about how they’ve been shamed for being little or how the vanillas will carry on about how gross it is when a woman calls their partner daddy (yet it’s perfectly okay for the man to call his female partner baby or babygirl-HELLOO! Double standard!) and it hurts. Even recently on Fetlife it seems like a regular topic that is brought up by littles is how others deal with all the negative talk about the Caregiver/little dynamic.
It’s hard not to internalize these messages. It may be easier for some people just to brush that stuff off, and hey, that’s awesome, and I do respect you for it, but for others, it’s entirely not so easy. I guess I’m writing this article for those who can’t brush off all the negativity so easily. I don’t have an answer to this question. I wish I did because that would end such a headache for me. But I know what we can do to help make it easier on ourselves. Remember that when someone starts hating, remember there’s usually a reason why they’re negative, and it’s because they’re not happy with themselves. Also, surround yourself with people who support and lift you up for who you are, and don’t bring you down for who you are. Create a safe space for yourself and the things you love, and that makes you happy. And when you’re the one hating on yourself, remember, there’s no normal, and there is nothing wrong with who you are.
Don’t let anyone dull your sparkle, including yourself!