While I readily admit that it was entirely appropriate and totally justified and completely my fault that, at 13-years old, I had to spend several hours one day wearing nothing but a diaper and be seen by extended family like that (yes, topless and wearing nothing but a diaper), was it really necessary later that day for seemingly the whole extended family of my stepdad’s sister’s in-laws gathering around to watch my diaper get changed?
The reason for me being in a diaper to begin with was undeniably totally my fault. I had absolutely no one to blame but myself. The blame for my shame was mine – and mine alone.
But still, there I was – less than two months shy of turning 14-years old – sitting in the backseat of my stepdad’s sister’s minivan on a summer day in 1999, wedged between her two grinning and giggling younger boys . . . wearing nothing but a diaper!
Of course, that wasn’t the first time I was diapered during my school years in front of people. Nor would it be the last time, either. But it was, without a doubt, the most embarrassing time.
The first time I was diapered after reaching school age came in first grade.
Sometime during the first week or so of school I laughed at and teased a boy in my class without mercy after he had wet his pants in class.
“You should be wearing diapers,” I taunted him over and over.
But, unfortunately for me, I would discover that our first grade teacher had a strict bathroom regimen, forcing students to “hold it” until recess or lunch time or at the two points during the school day when the entire class would go down the hallway together to use the bathrooms.
After wetting my panties several times in a couple week period that December, my teacher decided she needed to repeatedly do more than just tell me I belonged in diapers.