Missing Jigsaw Pieces
 |
| Writer and Model - Lexus Bradbury |
I wanted to do something a little different this week following on from my regression story, I hope you enjoyed that. This week I wanted to talk about the why of the whole situation. Why am I ABDL, and what makes an ABDL. To understand this we are going to have to go right back to the start of my story. So hop in my time machine with me, and lets go back. (VSHOOM VSHOOM VSHOOM VSHOOM VSHOOM)
Is that the noise a time machine makes ?
Before we question the why, first I want to explain that I am two things. I am Transsexual, and I'm ABDL, they are not the same thing. I also want to be clear that this is my own individual opinion, based on my own experiences. You've got to say that these days with people desperate to be outraged by things.
My Transition from male to female is nothing to do with being an ABDL. That being said, even though they're not the same, there are similarities. You can remain in the closet about it, or you can go full time and come out with it. Both will make you feel happy if you give in to it, instead of fighting it constantly. A sense of relief and comfort in your own skin, an overwhelming sense of wellbeing and happiness that money just can't buy. Both are misunderstood and demonised on the surface level of things. I could go on and on with the comparisons, there are so many.
I'll speak about being Trans first, so we can understand what that means to me, and while we're here, we will ask the question why ?
I knew I was trans from a very early age. I may not have known what it all meant, but the tell tales were there very early. As a toddler, my Mother used to remove my diaper and let me have a run around and breathe, most kids relish this opportunity. You've no doubt been in a home somewhere, where there's been a little Nudey Mgrudey running amok causing havoc round the house. For me it was an instant moment of shame seeing my cock. I'd go and hide under the dining room table until my Mother covered me up. Even as a toddler I sensed shame.
By eight year old I knew I wanted to be a girl. I felt so much conflict and defeat, because I didn't think a transition was possible at the time. I didn't think I could do anything about the dysphoria. I thought that was my lot, I was going to be a man, and this is what society expected from me.
As puberty hit, I started to realise that maybe a transition would be possible. But then I had the heartache of realising that I was going to be surrounded by stigma, demonised, assaulted, possibly murdered, and going to have major invasive painful surgery in order to get there.
Sunday night would come before school, and I'd be up in bed with my face in my pillow crying, just saying why over and over again. I didn't really know why I was saying that at the time. But you can bet I knew why I was crying when I was being wheeled into theatre to have face reconstruction, before you wonder, yes it hurts.
I'd gone from being ashamed to see my cock, to reluctant defeat I'm trapped as a man, to the heavy burden of the cross I had to carry in order to live my dreams. All worth it, and if I had to go through it all again, I certainly would.
So I was showing signs of dysphoria as young as three years old. There was no internet, I'd not been online reading sissy porn. I'd not seen anyone else doing it and decided I'd jump on board. I was a child that already knew before I was exposed to anything. We're talking about the mid eighties, a totally different time for the world. This alone, flies in the face of most arguments against Trans people. If you know me well, then you'll know one of the things I was known for, was taking on right wing nutbags obsessed with Trans people. They were so locked into their beliefs, that in the end, I decided to stop debating with them. It's too painful for us to admit, that we've committed ourselves to a belief system that fails us. So we lock in, kicking and screaming despite all the facts, fingers in our ears. Anything BUT actually admitting that perhaps we got it wrong. I see you, its alright.
The answer why I'm trans could be a million different things, but what I've just told you eliminates so many of the possible explanations. My Father blames himself, he says it's because he left me to be raised by two women, (my Mother and her girlfriend). Yet I knew before my father even left, so it's not that.
The fact that I knew so young, suggests that I was just born this way. Could it really be that ? That perhaps some people are born with a brain that doesn't quite match up with the biological body ? I don't think this is the case for everybody. I think there are people out there hiding behind genuine Transsexuals, doing it for all the wrong reasons. I already mentioned this briefly in my second blog (Why I'm Choosing Regression).
I'm happy I'm Trans, I wouldn't change it for all the money in the world. If you offered me a million in cash and said you had to dress male for the rest of your life, and present as one. As heartbreaking as it would be for me to turn down all that money, the cost to my wellbeing would eventually result in my death.
So now we've established I was born this way, lets get to the ABDL stuff.
If you've been reading my blogs, you'll realise this is a very sexy lifestyle. That being said, there's other elements at work as to why I've gone full time with it. It's only recently I finally understood it completely. It's my nature to question things, everything you see around you, and everything you don't. It's part and parcel of my disorders.
So why am I ABDL ? Well if you're ABDL, I don't know why you are, but here's why I am.
My upbringing was awful and my adult life was very stressful, its really that simple. In fact, my life has been one tragedy after another. I'm not suggesting I've had it worse than anyone, that's not for me to decide. But what I am saying is I've had it rough.
I've spent over a third of my life homeless, I've suffered more bereavements than most of the people I know, I was abused as a child, and my adult life came with the stigma of transitioning and lots of other issues.
My Mother was awful to me and had real issues keeping her hands to herself. She died back in 2008, it's only the last few years I've been able to talk about it all. I'd want to talk about it, and go to talk about it, but then my throat would swell up, and I'd be holding back the tears and emotion. I don't feel that today, I feel very little emotion when I address it all now.
I didn't have to be naughty to get smacked, I didn't get smacked, she would literally kick the fuck out of me whenever she felt like it. I can see now looking back, she couldn't regulate her emotions. I should have been taken from her, because she'd to do things to me, that today would 100% result in her going to jail. I don't condone what she did to me, but I understand it, I understand her. I am now the adult in the situation, and if she was here today, she would be the child.
Small issues very quickly escalated into big issues, she simply could not regulate herself. I found out several years ago, that my Grandparents took me off her for a while, because I was at risk from her. I still haven't forgiven her, yet as I reminisce, I feel sorry for her. I can remember being about twelve years old, sat in my room thinking, FUCK !! I've outgrown this woman, I'm already wiser in so many ways. She never got to live her life, and experience the levels of freedom and liberation I've been fortunate enough to experience. That being said, I didn't try playing it safe, clinging to a toxic relationship that was never going to love me back. I took risks and earned everything positive I've experienced. I worked hard.
She was with my Father for the first five years of my life, and he treated her like shit. Kicking her in the stomach while she was pregnant with me, because, "He didn't want any more fucking kids". Maybe it was that kick that screwed me up, or maybe it was hearing about it. Maybe that's why my heads been such a mess for so many years. Guess it could be my fathers fault after all. My Mum began losing a lot of blood and was told she was losing me, in the end, I hung on. He split in the end like he always does, and My mum ended up in a lesbian relationship. Some butch woman who was female at the core, but had most of the attributes of a man. Although drunk she would often ask would I support her if she transitioned, maybe that's why she hates men so much.
Very soon, I began to see that I was only an extension of my Mother to this new woman. I was tolerated so she could get her claws into my Mum. She used to be a proper cunt to me when my Mum wasn't around, and just say mean things for the sake of saying them. Bullying me out of an opinion on anything, all disguised as discipline. She soon felt comfortable putting her hands on me too. Someone else's child. She did a lot of bad shit in the end. All while disguising herself as this great saviour to me and my Mum from my big mean father. She was just as bad.
My Mum, very eager to be loved and wanted, fell for this woman hard. Within a few years she only had eyes for this woman, and I found myself on the outside looking in. The woman began abusing and manipulating my Mum, the shit slid down, and my Mum would take it all out on me. Her very own little punch bag that she grew inside of herself. I was the focal point for all my Mums pain and anger.
I'm talking knees, elbows, punches, she thought she was in the octagon. She's lucky she didn't kill me, I was only frail, and she would go well overboard with "Discipline". This isn't a focused story on my abuse and what I went through, but I have to go there because we are questioning why I'm ABDL.
Well to cut a long story short, I was kicked out of the house at the ripe old age of fourteen. I did nothing wrong and nothing to deserve losing the house I grew up in. Before it was my Mums and her Girlfriends house, it was my Nan and Grandads house, they signed it to my Mum and her brother. He found himself kicked out the house when my Mums girlfriend came along. Few month later he was found dead in his new property, alone. My closest Uncle, I wish I was an adult at the time, so I could have stood up for him and said, hey hang on, this is his parents house, why should he go because you got a new girlfriend.
Before my Mums girlfriend came along, lets for the sake of things call my Mums girlfriend Debbie. I don't want to keep saying my Mums girlfriend. Before Debbie came along, me and my Mum lived in that house with my Uncle Chris. It was a dark day for me when he left that house, and even darker when Debbie got put on the tenancy, I knew this bitch didn't fly straight.
Uncle Chris was a full blown alcoholic, but he never let that stop him being a good Uncle to me. Hearing how he was found dead when I would have been about seven, literally destroyed what was left of my childhood. Knowing he died alone with nobody around him, feeling unwanted in a shitty council flat. I will never forgive my Mum for that. I should have seen the writing on the wall. If your brothers leaving the house over your girlfriend, what does that mean for me down the line ? He's the one relative I still speak with in my meditation moments. He doesn't say much, but he listens, and I get to tell him about my life now and all the cool shit I got to do.
Eventually my Mum ended up losing every relative over this woman, nobody came round to see us anymore, other than Debbie's family. She consumed everything, and broke my Mum over time with narcissistic behaviour patterns. She would blank my Mum for weeks after one of their drunken arguments. Debbie loved a drink, seven nights a week to be exact, and not just a bit of drink either, she liked a lot of drink. This rubbed off on my Mum, and now she was dragging my Mum down with her. I said my Mum was abusive, can you imagine how abusive an abusive person is, when they're constantly on the comedown from alcohol with a hangover ?
Debbie would abuse my Mum while drunk, it would wake me up when I should be fast asleep for school in the morning. The next day it would be my Mum apologising and begging for Debbie's forgiveness, while Debbie made threats to leave she had no intentions of ever seeing through. I wish she would have kept her word and fucked off, maybe my Mum would still be here today ? Who else was going to pay for Debbie's alcoholism. The only money at the time was my child benefit, which was now split between three of us. So, if you're reading bitch, don't you ever think I owe you for anything you ever did. I remember when you was a dosser sat on your arse, living off my Mother and her child.
The house had become a warzone, no place for a child to grow up. The same house that once belonged to my Nan and Grandad. They'd be mortified to realise what that loving atmosphere they created became. They'd be fighting all night, every night. Involving me in their petty little squabbles. Pulling me out of bed to ask which one of them I wanted to live with. None of them to be honest, I should have been taken from that house by the authorities. I was getting in trouble at school for falling asleep in class, it was a different time. Today, teachers would be all over that asking questions. Back then the solution was to give me detention while I recite the lords prayer. I can't help but feel bitter about it all. Then there's the regular Sunday afternoon bedroom checks for bruises. I didn't realise what was happening at the time, but my Mum would make me strip down, put my arms in a T shape, and slowly spin round. She knew exactly what she was doing the sick bitch. So often I'd hear the words "You aren't in school this week". Hiding the painful truth from the world, robbing me of my education.
I was glad to be kicked out at fourteen truth be told, they were awful to one another, and to me, I was sick of the pair of them.
I can't help but chuckle to myself when the lesbian anti trans brigade start telling me, how I'm a danger to them. I was abused by lesbians, and decades later, I'm told by lesbians, that I'm the problem. You could not make this shit up !! You might want to look in house a bit before you point your finger at me. Have you forgotten about Liam Fee ? Star Hobson ? Me ? I'm lucky to be alive for fucks sake, them kids weren't so lucky. It's that runaway train, reckless behaviour pattern that concerns me about it all. So caught up in your hate campaign, that you now lack the self awareness to realise, you're pointing your fingers, at an abuse survivor, caused by the hands, of two people from your own community. I await your apologies.
So I was abused every way you can imagine. I was also rejected by the people who made me. My Father split, not that it mattered much about him anyway, he gets allocated so little headspace these days. And now my Mum was siding with her abusive, alcoholic girlfriend over protecting her child. Debbie made our lives hell, she controlled everything about that home, even the little things like atmosphere. Things got so bad my Mum would barely even speak to me anymore when Debbie was around. What sort of Mother, sees her fourteen year old child walk, from a family home of three generations, before she gets up and tells her partner on your bike.
So coming back to the ABDL stuff is it any wonder ? My life didn't somehow magically get better, that just set the tone for misery after misery. Being an adult was difficult, my Mum died as I said in 2008, I was only twenty-three. I had a family of my own by this point with one on the way. We planned our second because we loved the first so much. What we didn't account for, was my Mum snuffing it two week after the baby was born. I was crushed.
I always had this dream, that one day I'd transition and be a successful model. Use the money to get surgery to fix my body, and with what's left, go and rescue my Mum from the mess she got herself into. She didn't deserve that, and a child like that, but she was my Mum, the only one I've got. You're probably thinking, why would you do that for an abusive parent ? Because I loved her. Despite what she did to me, I loved her. I can be angry with her and still love her. I wouldn't be doing it out of respect, I'd be doing it because she's my Mum.
Actually achieving my goals with her gone, felt like a hollow victory. I think the best word to summarise it, is bittersweet. I've been robbed by fate, the joy of going rescuing my Mum, it's so tough to live with.
I blew up !! At one point it felt like I held the world in the palm of my hands. I was Lexus Bradbury, one of the greatest TS Models of a generation. Not the prettiest, not the sexiest, but the realist. It's my heart that established me, nothing else. I had big shoes to fill as Lexus Bradbury. People looked up to me, idolised me and wanted to be just like me. Thousands of trans people I've helped since coming out. Despite all that, my Mum didn't get to see who her child grew up to be.
People had high expectations for me, I had high expectations of myself. I had ambitions I needed to see through, and they were going to require unlimited amounts of courage. The worry over impending surgeries constantly, will it all go well, will I ever even get surgery because it's expensive.
Then there's all the bereavements I've experienced. I never hung with people my own age, I always preferred the company of older people. I felt I could learn a lot from them and their experiences. When it comes to life and philosophy, I am a teachers wet dream, a student of the game. I've paid the price that comes with having older friends greatly as the years begin to add up.
ABDL is my escape from everything I've experienced , I feel safe as an ABDL. My mental health has improved massively since taking the plunge. It's not just relief from my life, it's relief from the world. People have the nerve to suggest I'm strange ?? How strange does the world look to someone with a wise old head on their shoulders ? Wisdom obviously comes with stress, because you're so self aware, so you know all your imperfections. To me, this man made society we have to suffer, is the strangest thing on the planet. Try and imagine what life looks like to a creator, humour me.
Imagine a creator looking in on football and thinking, wow they've made this game, and apparently it's very important. How insulting is it, to ask a creator of infinite worlds and life, to help you win a game of football ? You see the players walking out on the pitch doing the cross. I'm like, mate, seriously, whatever God it is out there you're praying to, doesn't care in the slightest about football. We are talking about a God that lets entire countries starve to death, honestly think he cares if Villa beat Spurs ?
I see all the killing, whether it's ourselves, or whether it's animals. I see the way we treat animals in general, so I want you to humour me again. If you were indeed God, and you saw your creation doing all these terrible corrupt things, would you honestly pick up the phone ?
I am done with society, if the world ended tomorrow as we know it, and the lot of us got wiped out, good for the world. Good for nature, good for wildlife.
Your religion, your politics, your narcissism, your self entitlement, your self importance, your excuses, your inability to accept constructive criticism. ABDL is my response to that.
Really hold that thought and take a moment to understand what I've just said ...
Stop and think, how strange it all is ...
How people just willingly play a part in it ...
So in summary, I was born Trans, but society collectively made me ABDL.
Is it so hard to understand, that instead of worrying about politics or the next war, I may wake up and want to get my paints out and paint a picture ?
That I don't watch the news, I watch cartoons ?
That violence is the last thing I want to see or experience again after my upbringing ?
You can accuse me of hiding if you like, but I faced your world plenty. What am I achieving facing it again ? I lived my dreams and achieved my wildest ambitions, read that back. I completed your game of life on hard mode. I'd only be adulting because it's expected as part of the social construct you all designed. Do people even grow up anyway ? There's a few adults with us, but not many. Growing up is a myth. Adults every single day show the same levels of self entitlement children do. It would be earth shattering for them if they ever realised how unimportant they are in the grand scheme of things.
What if the world wasn't initially intended to be the way we made it ? What if we were meant to have fun, and well ... be happy really ? Inventions never made we never missed. I'm sure some of you will cling to what you know, your structure is important to you. I get that.
If I can make it the rest of my life in this ABDL bubble, which also protects you from me and my cynicism. Without hurting anyone, just playing and being happy in a loving, meaningful relationship with a caregiver, I will be happy.
At the end of the day, it's you, who made me.
ABDL is my safe space from a world I reject.
Don't get me wrong, this isn't a woe is me story, I'm so happy you wouldn't believe. I'm being myself and don't care one bit about the societal expectations put on me anymore. If I can be happy and find peace despite all the above, maybe you can too, whatever that may require.
Finally I get to be front and centre of someone's world. Loved for who I am, by someone for whom, an ABDL girl is exactly their type. Someone with tons of love to give, and in return they get a very happy girlfriend, and a very special bond and relationship.
Protected and sheltered from the world. Does it make sense now ? The abuse, abandonment, and all the pain, simply does not matter anymore. Can't you see I've had enough ?
Here's a final question to leave you with. This one's for the caregivers. The fans of ABDLs, who want to nurture, love and be in a relationship with an ABDL.
Why ? What's your reasons ? I'd be most interested to know. Maybe you could write your reasons in the comments, or get in touch with me on social media to discuss it. I want to know all about it. If you're genuine, I'd be happy to interview you for my blog, you don't have to tell the world who you are, I'm in the business of uplifting people, not destroying lives. So yeah, don't be shy, do get in touch.
That's enough for this week. If you agree with what I've said, or you want to tell me your experience and how it differs, feel free to get in touch. You can either comment underneath this blog, or hit me up on social media, the links are below.
Next week I'm going to discuss the sacred relationship between ABDL and Caregiver, and explain why it's more special than any other adult relationship dynamic.
If you enjoyed this weeks read, please don't forget to follow the blog. You'll notice a small space saying followers on the right hand side of this page towards the top, be a love and smash the follow button.
See you next week, but for now, Goo Goo Ga Ga x
Follow Here 👇
X / Twitter - https://x.com/tslillexy
Instagram -https://www.instagram.com/tslillexy
No comments:
Post a Comment