Around 5 years ago (when I was 20) to my horror and embarrassment, I became incontinent. It began with bedwetting, something I'd never done before, even as a child, and then progressed to daytime wetting as well. It wasn't long before I was barely able to control my bladder at all; if I could, it was only for a few minutes, and my
knickers were almost permanently wet.
My mother, who has suffered incontinence and worn protection herself in the past, suggested that I wear a nappy until the problem cleared up. As she pointed out, it was easier to wash plastic pants and nappies than bedding, or clear up puddles of wee from all over the house. With some reluctance, I decided that she was right, and did so. My boyfriend (now my husband), who had understandably not been too pleased about being weed on during the night, was in total agreement.
After many visits to the doctor, and various specialists, it was finally discovered that I had a polyp in my urethra at the bladder neck, which was preventing a proper seal, and so causing my incontinence. An operation eventually corrected the problem.
But, silly as it may sound, even when I regained full continence, I really did miss the comfort and sense of security that wearing a nappy had given me. I found that I actually
wanted to wear one sometimes,
not, I stress, for any sexual reasons - it didn't "turn me on" - it was simply a matter of convenience, so to speak.
And so, secretly at first, I began to indulge myself. When I was alone at home, or perhaps when I went out for the day shopping, even a couple of occasions when I had to drive a long distance, I would wear a nappy. I didn't have to worry about stopping what I was doing to go to the loo, or find a public toilet (some of which I think can be pretty disgusting), or struggle to avoid wetting myself if stuck in traffic or something.
Of course, eventually my "secret" was discovered; my husband came home unexpectedly one day when I was not working to find me in a nappy; I didn't get the opportunity to remove it before he noticed it. When he asked me why I was wearing it, I broke down in tears and confessed all. I could, I suppose, have told him that I was having accidents again, but I didn't - why, I'm not sure, but I had the feeling that he wouldn't have believed me. I fully expected him to walk out on me in disgust, but to my complete surprise he said that if that was what I wanted to do, it was fine by him.
So now I wear a nappy whenever I feel like doing so. I often wear one in bed, when I am going to be out of the house for more than a couple of hours or so, or even sometimes when I simpy want to relax and not have to bother with using a toilet. OK, I'm wierd, and I don't expect most people to understand, but I'm happy in my nappy!