Mommy Issues and Other Neat Stuff

We're gonna start off with a few definitions here because I want us all to be on the same page going forward.

Age regression, according to Healthline, 'occurs when someone reverts to a younger state of mind. This retreat may be only a few years younger than the person's physical age. It could also be much younger, into early childhood or even infancy. People who practice age regression may begin showing juvenile behaviors like thumb-sucking or whining.'

Being a 'little' is another way to put it. Essentially, one acts like, or in some cases, even becomes, a child.

I am a little. My wife is my caregiver during these times. A caregiver is exactly what it sounds like - someone who takes care of you when you are little.

When I regress, my age is anywhere from 5-10 years old. Sometimes it's really clear, some times it's not. I get the voice of a little kid, I suck my thumb, I color, I play with stuffed animals, my wife reads me stories, I eat snacks like graham crackers and drink chocolate milk.

"Why can't you just do those things as a normal adult?" You ask.

Long story short - childhood trauma.

I didn't get much of a chance to be a kid. I grew up way too fast. My dad was always in and out of the hospital, my mother was (and still is) an alcoholic, my parents were separating. It was a bit of a clusterfuck. My dad basically dropped out of my life around 8 years old, not by any fault of his own. He has a chronic illness and my mom kicked him out of the house because he was 'too lazy.' I later inherited this illness and found out my mom is full of shit, but I digress. My mom was always, always working, and when she wasn't working, she was drinking and smoking and being unreasonable about things like grades and bedroom cleanliness.

My brother and I took care of ourselves after school starting from when I was 8 and he was 7. It was a lot of trust and responsibility. I mean, I can't say as I didn't appreciate not having a helicopter parent in that aspect, but it was still a lot to ask of a 7 and 8 year old.

From there, life just kinda got worse and worse and worse. I got severely depressed in middle school, tried to take my life several times and my mom never even batted and eye. I came out in middle school as bisexual, then again in high school as a lesbian, then again as pansexual toward the end of my high school career, each time being met with a level of scorn from my mother. I was grounded constantly because of shitty grades, instead of being tutored or something actually productive. I lost a lot of friends because of that. I was sexually assaulted my junior year by someone who I believed to be one of my best friends.

When I went away to college, I took off five hours west and cut all contact with my mom. I wanted to be free to be myself without her breathing down my neck, without feeling like I was walking on egg shells. That went about as well as you can imagine. My mother came screaming into Iowa, throwing an absolute fit because I wasn't talking to her, threatening to end our relationship right then and there. I should've let her, but I was scared. I thought I still needed her, at the very least, financially. But at that time, I also thought we had a relationship, however wonky of one it was, and no one ever wants to lose their mom. So I caved and re-opened the line of communication between us. She grew more overbearing, but I was still so scared of being alone that I just let it happen. I came out as a transgender man soon after that.

My lord, you would not believe all the 'It's just a phase' and 'I'll never call you by that name' bullshit I had to go through. My dad and my brother were fucking fantastic about it. Mom thought I was doing this specifically to spite her. Because what the fuck else would a narcissist think, am I right? My coming out just had to be about her.

For five years, I lived in her house with her calling me the wrong name, the wrong pronouns. For five years, if I ever corrected her, I would get snapped at. For five years, she complained about playing by 'my rules' - these 'rules' being a simple request to treat me with basic human dignity. And then she threw me out. Over $65. After I had been hospitalized. In the middle of a global pandemic.

I think I win the shittiest parent award.

But that's all why I can't just do this as a normal adult. You see, when I regress, or become little, I feel safe. I feel safe in a way that I do not as an adult. I feel like I don't have to worry about anything. I am young, and my caregiver will take care of me, and I don't have to worry about whether or not I will be able to get a job, or if my Medicaid will go through. I can recognize that it is a privilege for me to be able to do this. A lot of people don't get the luxury of just turning off the world for a few hours and being small and cared for.

But that also doesn't mean that people like me deserve shame for what we do. What we do is not shameful. It's a coping mechanism to deal with trauma and abuse. We aren't hurting anyone, it isn't inherently sexual (though there are people who play with that, I don't), our partners and caregivers understand our needs and provide for us. Most of us discuss our regression with our various therapists and psychiatrists.

Not understanding what we do doesn't give anyone a right to be hateful. Before speaking about something you don't understand, do some research. Find your empathy. Realize that people don't just do this because it's fun. We do it because we suffered as children. Let that reality sink in. When you choose to speak, choose to speak nicely. Spread kindness, not hate. Being little is not a crime.