I'm little so much more lately. And my little is so much more, too.
That's a fairly confusing, deep, and ambiguous set of statements. Let me unpack that a bit for you.
For a long while now, my being little has been growing steadily more and more dissociative. Mako-kun, aka Little Mako, is not entirely the same person as big me, the guy who's writing this lovely blog post you're reading right now. We're not entirely separate people either.
Think of a big tree that's split down the middle most of the way down, but meets at the trunk, and you've got the right visual for it.
I wasn't, or maybe I should say, we weren't always quite this way. Years ago, my partner Kacie first started talking to the littler me like he was distinct from me, and my brain-kitchen got busy cooking up the recipe, and ding out we popped!
But it's taken years for us to cook all the way through or something. It's not maybe the best food metaphor.
Anyhow, lately we've been more distinct than ever, and at my Auntie Squee's gentle nudging, I've been more co-operative with Mako-kun, too. He's out a lot more. It feels really good.
Just recently when our kids Katie and Leah were visiting he was out a bunch, and connecting with them in super lovey-dovey ways that were awesome. Missy has told me on multiple occasions that she loves when he's out, when I/we (Whatever, pronouns, what are you going to do, right?) are little and she has time with us.
I'll be dreadfully, terribly honest here - in the past my dissociation has scared me a bit. I've carried around some internalized self-judgment over it, that maybe it made me a bit broken, or weak. I don't want to be perceived as mentally unhealthy.
But I'm really getting over that. And it feels great. Take it from me, and also from me.