I’m gonna copy another comment I made on this post since it’s the best thing I think I can say about it. But just know I once felt as you do and probably still would if my sister wasn’t a furry.

I think the kink and fursuit parts are what most people understand about furries because that’s the most signal boosted and bizarre parts about it. However, furries often have other things that really attach them to it, and the kink is a further expression of that.

For a lot of people, neurodivergence is a core feature. I struggle with speech a lot. I’m learning ASL but few people speak it. The flexibility to communicate in howls, barks and yips on occasion is extremely helpful. The furry community is full of people who just get this and will treat me very normally when I’m nonverbal. The scared kid in me still expects to be hit for disobedience, so it’s incredibly healing.

Some folks who like fursuits like them because they present a barrier and literal mask that helps them feel safe and protected from bad sensory experiences in public. Some attach themselves into a fursona character and find a way to express parts of themselves they couldn’t elsewhere. My sister describes her fursona as a manifestation of her inner child unburdened by abuse, and made the character female years before she worked out she was trans.

When you consider how much kink and trauma go hand in hand, how much furries lean on their identity as a way to feel safe engaging with others, and how much genuine joy people find in their fursona, the kink makes a whole lot more sense. It’s less about being attracted to “rejected Disney mascots” specifically as it is about the comfort and safety a rejected Disney mascot persona can bring to people who need it. For as much as it’s helpful in the outside world, it would in fact be weirder for none of that to come into the bedroom too.