A Coming Out

This post is written for the Leather community, for people who are curious or unsure, and for other littles who may not yet have words for their own experience. I’m sharing my truth of being little as a core orientation, not as a role or performance. This isn’t meant to define anyone else. It’s simply one way of being.

For a very long time, I didn’t know how to talk about this. I knew the words people used. Littlespace. Age play. Roleplay. Kink. None of them quite fit, but they were the only language I had. And for a long time, I was embarrassed to let anyone really see me as little. I worried about being misunderstood. I worried about being judged. I worried about what people would assume. I spent a lot of time trying to be palatable instead of honest; with myself and with my community, and that came with a lot of loneliness. I felt invisible more often than I want to admit, and that sadness sat quietly in the background of my life. I also didn’t yet understand why I was having these feelings, why this part of me was surfacing to begin with. I reacted to it with shame and embarrassment.

I also worried deeply about how this might affect my Daddy. She supports me fully and loves me as I am. She shows that support in quiet, steady ways, including holding space for me and delighting in things that make me feel safe. At the same time, She doesn’t engage explicitly in this headspace, and that matters. I never want to embarrass Her or make Her feel uncomfortable, especially because of how supportive She is. I was afraid people might make assumptions about Her, or decide She must be a “Big.” She isn’t. This is my truth to name, not something I’m asking Her to explain, perform, or carry. Her care is real exactly as it is.

I’m writing this now because staying quiet started to feel heavier than being seen. And I want to say this clearly and without apology. This isn’t a critique of anyone’s kink if that is how they come to this, it isn’t kink shaming. I’m not saying that performative or scene based littlespace is any less real or less meaningful. A lot of people experience being little that way, and those experiences are valid. If I’m being honest, I sometimes feel a little envious that I can’t do a scene around this. I love watching people find joy, connection, and expression through that kind of play. There’s something genuinely beautiful about it. There’s no right or wrong way to be a little. Whether it’s a kink, whether it’s dark ageplay or not, a scene, a role, or a core orientation, we all belong.

For me, being little isn’t a role I play. It isn’t a scene I step into. It isn’t something I turn on and off. It isn’t sexual. It isn’t erotic. It isn’t performative. It’s how I’m oriented in the world. That shows up most clearly in how I react to pain, stress, and anxiety, all of which I live with. When things feel overwhelming, my body reaches for softness. Cute things. Jammies. Familiar comfort. Snuggles from people I trust. Not from just anyone. I’m actually pretty hesitant about touch unless we’ve already established that it’s okay. Safety matters to me. Consent matters. Familiarity matters.

That doesn’t mean I walk around in littlespace all the time. I live a full adult life. I have a career. I’m a parent and a grandparent. I make decisions. I handle responsibility. I show up. This isn’t about capability. It’s about where my center lives.

The phrase that finally fit for me is core orientation. Not kink. Not roleplay. Orientation.

It’s is my baseline. It’s the place I turn to emotionally. It’s how safety and regulation feels in my body. It’s how my attachments forms. It’s how both joy and hurt land. Even when I’m fully in adult mode, this part of me is still there, usually quietly. I’m sensitive. I’m observant. I’m shy and reluctant to step into the center of a crowd or activity. I also tend to keep this part of myself tucked away until I feel safe. When I feel most settled in this orientation, it’s often very simple. Quiet coloring time. Being in my jammies. Going to bed in my woodland forest room that Daddy helped me create. Being tucked in with my stuffies and my blanket. Having my space feel gentle and calming and familiar.

And one of the biggest regulators for my nervous system is simply being near my Daddy. She doesn’t have to do anything. She doesn’t have to engage in a role. Just having Her close settles me and makes me feel content. That presence matters so much - She is my safety and my center. She doesn’t have to be the Big to my little… She is mine and She accepts me fully and without condition. This matters because my nervous system is fragile. My health is fragile. I need consistency, pacing, and care to stay regulated. Being little, for me, isn’t about fantasy or escape. It’s about how my body and heart learned to survive and connect. It softens the blow of a life that is sometimes too overwhelming.

Because this is a core orientation, it shapes my relationships in real ways. I attach very deeply. I feel connection with my whole body. I am sensitive and easily hurt. When relationships are steady, this part of me is loving, playful, and grounding. When things start and stop suddenly, or when dynamics shift without clarity, it can hit hard. That isn’t a failure. It isn’t immaturity. It’s just how I’m wired. When littlespace is performative or scene based, there’s usually a clear container. A start. An end. Agreements. That structure can be protective. When being little is a core orientation, there’s no clean edges. There’s no moment where the role comes off and the real self begins. The real self is already here.

Naming this isn’t about asking the world to bend, and it isn’t about comparison. It’s about honesty. It’s about helping partners, friends, and community understand what support actually looks like for someone like me. It’s also about pushing back on some assumptions. Being little doesn’t automatically require a Big. It isn’t always a choice. And it isn’t always sexual in nature - for me it never is. Sometimes it’s just how someone’s nervous system is built.

For the littles who might be reading this quietly, maybe late at night, unsure what to do with these feelings, I want you to hear this. You aren’t strange. You aren’t wrong. You aren’t shameful. There is no rulebook for how to do this. There is no one right way to be little. It’s far less taboo in our community than it used to be, and there are people you can talk to if and when you want to. Most Leather events now have space for you, meet ups, classes, and sometimes play space. There are facebook groups and local munches. You aren’t alone at all!

Some people experience littlespace as a scene. Some live it as a core orientation. One doesn’t cancel out the other.

To the leather community, and to anyone who still feels discomfort around littles, I offer this gently. Understanding doesn’t require sameness. Respect doesn’t require endorsement. We aren’t all the same, and we don’t need to be.

For me, this isn’t about provocation. It’s about telling the truth. It’s about caring for my health and building relationships that actually fit me.

I’m capable.
I’m responsible.
I’m also little.

I’m an AND & both.

I’m choosing to let this be seen.