Turns Out I Might Be a Middle
It’s the kink that explains so much
I slept with a stuffed animal until I was 27. At the time, I had no idea it was part of my kink.
It was a stuffed elephant that I named Robert.
Mr. Austin bought it for me in the first months we were dating. It wasn’t the only gift he gave me during that time, or even the first one, but it’s the one I cherished the most.
I loved everything about Robert. He was adorable, soft, and comforting to hold and cuddle. Everything about him just spoke to me.
I even got a little territorial over him. When I had kids, I kept it out of their reach so they wouldn’t ruin him. He was mommy’s toy, not theirs.
I eventually stopped sleeping with Robert in my arms, but it’s not because I outgrew him or realized that a stuffed animal shouldn’t be part of a grown-ass woman’s bedroom. I only stopped because I had worn him out beyond repair.
I had literally loved my stuffed elephant to death.
After making the hard decision to get rid of Robert, I thought about getting another stuffed animal to replace him. But I managed to talk myself out of it. I told myself that buying a stuffie at my age would be kind of embarrassing.
