Content notes and warnings: This post deals with CGL/ageplay/little content as both a kink and a coping mechanism. It also mentions gender dysphoria, food, being fat, and touches on depression.
So, I spent the majority of October resolutely not blogging. I did make one impromptu Ace Week post late in the month, and took care of a fair amount of back end stuff (including dealing with ads, link stuff, and most interestingly, joining the Alliance of Independent Sex Toy Testers), but for the most part, I didn’t do a lot of work. Why, you might ask?
Well, given the intensity of my recent depression and various personal things, as well as some physical illness, my spouse/dom/Daddy Damien and I decided that I should spend October being as consistently “little” as possible.
I’ve written some about the CGL (short for “caregiver/little,” a gender neutral version of “DDLG” or “Daddy Dom/Little Girl”) side of my relationship, but sometimes it is hard to explain nonetheless. It is probably categorized as “ageplay,” but that feels inaccurate, because to me, the term suggests some sort of roleplay. For me, my littlespace really is me, not something I pretend to be; it’s also not a form of regression, because I am still able to reason as an adult, and make informed decisions. It is a specific mood or mindset, I suppose you might say, where I’m cheerier, more easily excited, clingier, and more reliant on Daddy. There are times when it can be difficult to access, and there are times where I’m there without even noticing. It is me at my most submissive, which is both my natural state and my most vulnerable one. I still categorize it very much as a kink, since it involves that submission, and Damien setting down rules and limits, and me obeying, all in a very consensual way. It is integral to who I am, true; but so is masochism, and that is decidedly a kink. My kinks are nonsexual because my relationship is nonsexual, but they’re still very adult and very intimate, even when I’m at my littlest.
Anyway, most of October was spent doing my best to access my little side, and to stay in it. Daddy felt I needed to not focus on worries and “grown-up” things as much as possible, and was perfectly willing to take on a lot of the Adulting Tasks and Decisions, and so we decided to see if it was actually possible to be Very Small for the month.
Turns out…it’s…actually really easy, as long as I let myself. And it was as refreshing as an actual vacation—maybe moreso, since I didn’t have to come home to do a bunch of laundry and stuff after. It didn’t cure my depression, and didn’t make my problems go away, but it did help me cope a great deal.
So, what did I do while I was being Actively Little 24/7? Well…
I still helped around the house!
While Daddy was willing to do a lot, I was uncomfortable with the idea of just playing and doing jack all while they did all the hard work; more importantly, I’m not sure it would have actually been feasible. We have a three-person household, Metamour works 90000 hours a week and can’t cook, and shit needs to get done. So I attempted to keep up with the dishes and help with meals.
The difference? FRAMING.
As I’ve mentioned before, often when I cook and I’m “little,” I look on it as “I’m doing something under Daddy’s supervision!” For some reason, just having Damien tell me to be very careful with the knife like a big boy is very good for maintaining a Little Equilibrium, which sounds like a terrible sequel to that Christian Bale movie. Instead of approaching household tasks with a stern-faced, “I must do this, it needs to get done” vibe, I think, “If I do this thing, Daddy will be so proud and happy!”
That alone does a lot. I sometimes get overwhelmed with household tasks in the day-to-day, because I’m depressed, neurodivergent, and have chronic pain; but having a little bit of “I just gotta do the thing for Daddy!” to help gives me a more concrete motivation than just “I gotta do the thing because I gotta do the thing.” In addition, if I do a task with a foot firmly in little space, it’s much easier to ask for help if I need it. If I’m in full grown-up mode, I feel like I shouldn’t need to ask for help, and by the time I realize I can’t do it myself, I’m ashamed of not being able to do it. If I’m in little mode, well—of course I need help! That’s what Daddy’s here for!
I also feel very small and useful when we cook or work together; whether it’s making dinner, doing dishes, or baking cookies, Daddy made sure to refer to me as their little helper and talked down to me, and I ate that up like, uh…like…the cookies afterwards? I dunno, that was a better simile in my head.
I colored lots!
I can’t color as much as I’d like, because of aforementioned chronic pain issues. But it is a reliable way to make me feel little, to take up some time while Daddy has to do grown-up things, and to do something that I can look at after and go, “Hey, I produced that thing!” While I do still have to stop for my hand’s sake sometimes, I did find a few ways to extend my coloring time without my whole arm falling off:
- Turns out they take a lot less “work” than colored pencils or crayons, because they require little to no pressure to work. I grew up not using markers very much as my sister had a weird tendency to make a mess with them and we didn’t have them in the house. I am not less messy than my sister, but I manage okay and they’re much less painful. Sometimes, especially if coloring printouts of Damien’s art, I used fancy art markers; sometimes, for simpler things, I used cute puffball markers Daddy got for me on sale at Michael’s. (Post-back to school sales are amazing.)
- Simpler Pictures
- As mentioned, Damien printed some of their art for me, and the detailed coloring I did on that was fun, but…not great for my hand issues. So they got me a very simple toddler coloring book, and it turns out that helps a lot to still be able to color with less stress to my wrist.
- Compression gloves
- I already had some that I got at the craft store—they’re supposed to ease difficulties while sewing or knitting or whatever—but they were kinda ugly, not gonna lie. So, I picked up some cuter ones in fun colors! I ordered them online, so the fit wasn’t great (too small, so I couldn’t wear for very long) but they did make me feel a lot littler than the orangey nylon craft store ones, and I’m hoping to get a few more pairs in the future in different colors and, uh, a better size.
I Dressed Little…and we got creative!
You know what’s annoying about stores that specialize in “Little” merchandise? Little clothes are almost all 1. very feminine and 2. quite small. Obviously, all littles are skinny femmes in pigtails, right?
Since realizing I was nonbinary, I’ve explored a lot about what I actually like to wear, as opposed to what I think I should like to wear, and it turns out, I…really prefer dressing fairly masculine-of-center, to the point where sometimes I get surprisingly dysphoric in clothes I perceive as feminine. (I did before I realized I was nonbinary, I just didn’t recognize it as such; I wore a lot of makeup to try to make myself feel more like I “fit” in my dresses and form-fitting shirts and so on.)
Look, if you’re a little (or nonbinary) you can wear whatever you want, but sometimes it’s fun to wear something that just screams, I want some juice and crackers and a nap. And what I perceive as too feminine for me is not what everyone perceives as feminine, or what they don’t mind, but a lot of the “little” clothes are pink, frilly, and say something like “Daddy’s girl” with little bows, and it’s just…not for me, which is frustrating when I want to dress little! And often, even if I did want those things, they have a max 30 inch waist, which isn’t gonna fit me.
Most of the onesies online that do fit plus-sized bodies are expensive. I got one for Christmas a few years ago, black with “I ♥ Daddy” printed on it which is fantastically gender neutral, but it wasn’t cheap. I also have some particular needs (I hate things around my neck, and even find crew necks uncomfortable) so even those have to be modified, after dropping like $50. And cutesy, childlike prints that aren’t super feminine can be hard to find, for some reason; apparently everyone wants frills on their Lilo & Stitch pajamas? And no men want anything printed on a shirt that isn’t, like, tiny sailboats in a super neutral color? I still had half a closet full of dresses with cute candy and robot prints, why could I not find a masculine-ish equivalent? T-shirts with overalls feels cute and small, but I can’t take a nap in those. I did manage to find something by searching “women’s plus sized romper” that has an adorable print of some little dinosaurs, but that took a lot of searching. And got damn, I wanted tons of little shit, not just a couple! I wanted options. Even if I didn’t wear them everyday, I wanted the choice.
And then, Damien and I hit on a great idea. Why not take those old dresses, and turn them into onesies?
It’s a bit of work, but honestly, there’s plenty of fabric, I already had a onesie to trace as a pattern, and Damien is pretty good at making clothes. (They also made me an awesome waistcoat for my hobbit Halloween costume.) We tried first with one of my old favorite dresses, which has a green robot print, and…it works great for modification! We did donate several of my old dresses, but my favorites we kept to be turned into onesies. Some of them I’d even be able to wear out in public, by tucking them into pants, and they don’t look uncomfortably inappropriate like my “I ♥ Daddy” onesie would. And since I already know the neck is comfortable for me, since I bought them with that in mind as dresses, that’s not a concern either. Everyone’s a winner!
You can also do this with t-shirts if they’re long enough, we just haven’t tried it yet. If I want to wear a cute t-shirt, I just wear the t-shirt. But, the option! It’s there.
(Also, did I mention the hobbit costume? It was awesome.)
I was little around other people, kinda?
This one was pretty new for me. I’m used to being little for Daddy only, and going completely silent around anyone else. But for an entire month, I couldn’t like…not talk to my metamour who lives in my apartment, nor could I just like…not text my sister, who is also my best friend. They’re also both aware that I have this dynamic, and have never judged me for it nor expected anything out of me with regards to my inclinations.
Here’s the thing about my little side: it is a part of me, and it can be a vulnerable part of me, but my biggest fear is that it just might be an annoying part of me. And while it is, in my case, an aspect of my D/s and kinky relationship, and I don’t intend to include people in my kinks as part of the dynamic, it is also just…me, doing things I like to do, acting in a way that I, deep in my heart of hearts, want to act, and often don’t because I’m 33 and not supposed to. But if I’m being actively little, I am excited about my coloring pages or the new plushie Daddy got me, and I don’t want to keep all of my excitement to myself!
So I just…went ahead and was myself with them. I mentioned to both of them that I was being especially, intentionally little for a while in case the quality of my conversation suffered or they didn’t want to talk to me in that state. (Neither declined, but I wanted to give them the choice.) I also mentioned to one or two online friends specifically; and if I posted anything little-related on social media, I tagged for CGL content, but otherwise, went ahead and said what I wanted to say, because folks on my social media already know about this blog and the content therein, and know how to unfollow.
Everyone who was made aware that I was being little for an extended time was just like, “Oh, okay, cool, good idea” with an occasional side of “let me see your coloring!” (Metamour also checked if I wanted kids’ meal toys when he picked up dinner a few times, bless.) Turns out, since it is a part of my personality, most people…uh…are already used to me being like that, whether I label it or not.
Look, if you’re a little and never want to share it with anyone at all, that’s cool. And I still will not be sharing this with anyone who doesn’t consent to know that I’m kinky and in a full-time CGL dynamic. (Maintenance had to come by a few times and I was just…dead silent in their present, thinking about macaroni.) But the people who care about me really don’t give a shit that I call my partner Daddy, that I’m submissive, and that I love 90s cartoons and named all my plushies. Intellectually I knew that, but seeing the evidence of that was very freeing.
Speaking of plushies…
I played with toys! Not just the sexy kind!
I sleep with a plushie anyway, and did long before I figured out I was a little. They’re cute and they give me something to do with my arms when I’m trying to sleep!
But part of me being little was to just…like…hang out with them. I keep one near my desk, one near the couch, and several on my bed to drag around whenever I want. I brought plushies with me to “help” me color or cook. I even brought a teddy bear on a long car ride, which was—as it turns out—the best decision ever. (Keep in mind I don’t drive; it’d be a lot harder to cuddle if I were at the wheel.) Cuddling a plushie reduces anxiety a lot when it builds up, and is also very comforting if I’m inexplicably sad, which still happens in littlespace because I do literally have depression and CGL is not a cure. And like…nobody’s looking in the car. No one gives a shit. I didn’t carry it around in stores or anything, but having a plushie around whenever I might need one? Surprisingly rad.
I also played with some of my dolls. I can’t seem to play the way I did as an Actual Child, enjoying constructing conversations (and elaborate plots) between my Barbies and the herd of My Little Ponies, but I did other things. I experimented a lot with hair and outfits for my American Girl doll, and made some clothes for one of my ball-jointed dolls for the first time in months. (The latter of these things is a big deal, because I was very into my BJD and had even just received a new one when some Bad Shit happened and made me completely disinterested in them, as well as most of my other hobbies. Having some interest in my hobbies again is pretty good!)
Also, Daddy insisted we play with my tea set several times, and let me tell you, you have not lived until you’ve had a tea party with Daddy and a Hellboy plushie only to be interrupted by your cat trying to lay down in the middle of the whole set.
Listen, that’s far from a complete list of everything I did, but I hope it gives a vague taste, because it was fun! The vacation was very good for me in many respects; not only did it give me some rest from my very real adult problems and some made-up ones, but it made me realize how much I genuinely enjoy being little. I love feeling like everything is good and exciting, looking at things with wide-eyed wonder; and it makes it so much easier to cope with the things that aren’t wonderful. It also helps Damien a lot, too; they have said, many times, that seeing me little and cheerful and trusting helps them to let go of stress as well, and they can play with me and feel a lot of the same release I do.
So, I might not be in full little mode almost constantly…but I think I’ll be settling into that side a lot more often, when I need it. If you need me, I’ll be on a nest of blankets Daddy set up so they can read to me while I snuggle up to a teddy bear.
Like this post? Be sure to check out my CGL tag and my Kink As A Coping Mechanism tag! You might also like A Day of 24/7 Kink.
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