A Little More on that Damned “Age Thing”
Last week, I wrote about life changes (and resulting insecurities). The always thought-provoking KD Pierre said my post triggered his own thoughts, and he wrote this post, clearly indicating that it was not meant to compare or contrast, merely that my post set off his own thoughts. Well, of course, I read his post and now I feel like I want to bounce back off him with some further thoughts on this subject.
KD talked about friends who want to go back, who want to relive their pasts, their “glory days.” He mentioned Gloria Swanson in her classic “Sunset Boulevard” role, the fading movie star who dwells in her past and goes mad doing so. Here’s the deal with me: I don’t want to relive my youth. My youth sucked! A lot of you who have been with me for a long time know this. I went from a chubby, awkward child who was afraid of everything to a confused teenager who went from overweight to anorexic to a depressed but high-functioning adult with anger issues and eating disorders. Exactly what part of that would I want to revisit? Blech. As I mentioned in my book, decades of my life were spent existing. It was only when I finally got on the right meds that I began to live.
And y’all know what happened then. Erica Scott broke out of the closet and there was no stopping her. But I had a lot of ground to catch up on. A lot of lost time to make up for. And I wanted to experience everything.
In reading KD’s post, this statement jumped out at me:
Another positive I have in my life that I recommend to others is to have younger people around you as much as possible.
Interesting, I thought. Through most of my adult life, I have been drawn to people younger than I am. I’m not sure why, and I don’t think it matters. But of course, since some people really suck, this has been criticized. I remember someone sneering to me somewhere on FetLife or someplace like that, regarding my friendships with some of the younger spanking models, that my “envy of younger women was palpable.” Yeah, yeah. Do I want to be in my 20s again? Christ, no. Okay, I’d take 40s. But that’s beside the point. I’m also, for the most part, attracted to younger men. I play often with younger men. I’ve taken heat for this too.
Following are a few random past pictures of me with friends. In the first one, I’m buried in the pillow fight pile at a party. The second one is Alex Reynolds’ bridal shower. And the third one is me with the incomparable Sierra Salem at her birthday party. Yes, we are lying on the pavement.
What do all these pictures have in common? Every single other woman in them could be my kid. I’m not sure why they all wanted to hang out with me, but I’m glad they did.
Here is a possible explanation, not that I owe anyone one. You have to keep in mind that, regarding people my own age, I actually have very little in common with them, aside from an aging body. The larger percentage of people in my age group are married, or have been (often more than once). A lot of them have grown kids, and even grandkids. They have houses and mortgages (with all the accompanying taxes, repairs, and other grownup headaches). They’ve traveled the world (or at least part of it). And then there’s me. Never married, never lived with anyone, never had kids. Have lived in an apartment my entire adult life. And aside from Mexico, I’ve never left the United States. I don’t even own a passport. I just can’t relate to the life experiences of most of my peers. And let’s face it — with my unusual experiences, a lot of them can’t relate to me, either.
However, there is one major drawback to having young friends. They don’t get my references. They don’t know the music I knew, the TV shows I watched, the world events I lived through. My cultural literacy memories are not theirs. I recall years ago, being in an airport gift shop, traveling with a 20-something co-star for videos back East. There was a t-shirt with the Marx Brothers on it, and she asked me who they were. I said, “You’ve never heard of Groucho Marx?” She thought for a moment and then answered, “I’ve heard of Karl Marx…?” Oy vey. This kind of thing makes me feel ancient. Compare it to just recently, when I mentioned to a new friend (who is a mere five years younger) that I like the Marx Brothers, and he not only knew who they were, he started quoting their movies and calling me “Spanko, the unknown Marx Sister.” It’s comforting to have someone speak your language.
Recently on Twitter, someone tweeted, “Can you imagine being alive during the time The Beatles were writing and recording music??” Uh… He sounded so incredulous, I couldn’t help but comment, “Yeahhh… a lot of us are still around. It’s not like we were there for Beethoven composing his nine symphonies.” (sigh)
There are exceptions, of course. When I was 50 years old, I was approached by a man of 21 who wanted to play with me. I balked. I said I was too old for him and I’d feel ridiculous. He said, “You’re not too old — I’m an old soul.” We met, I was impressed by his poise, and yup, we played several times. I remember the first time he was at my place and I had an oldies station playing in the background. I was shocked when a song from the 1960s came on and he started singing along with it. “How the hell do you know this song?” I blurted. He really was an old soul. I still know him, and I still play with him when I see him at a party.
So, in short, generally speaking, I don’t comprehend the life references of many people my age. And younger people don’t comprehend mine. Is it any wonder that I refer to myself as a square peg in a round world? And question just where the hell I belong now?
As I mentioned on KD’s post, I don’t want to go back to the flower of my youth. It had way too goddamn many weeds in it. But, as many of you know, I’m also terrified of aging. Watching one’s mother rot for seven years from dementia will do that to a person. It’s terrifying to witness. If you’re lucky enough to remain healthy, have some money in the bank, have loved ones to be with, getting older doesn’t have to be a train wreck. But for many, it is, and there’s no sugar-coating that. That’s why I hate age jokes. My former top used to think it was so hilarious to say, “We’re gonna still be playing in our 80s! I’ll be pulling down your Depends!” I always responded with a disgusted, “Don’t say stuff like that,” and then he’d compound it by laughing and adding, “Don’t worry, I’d wipe your ass for you!” And I’d want to punch him in the nose. Not funny, jackass. Incontinence isn’t funny, and neither are diapers. And they sure AF aren’t sexy either — not when you have to wear them, because your body and mind have stripped you of your independence and your dignity.
What would be my ideal? If I had my druthers, I’d hang around indefinitely in the middle. Old enough to have gained wisdom and experience, to have outgrown a lot of the insecurities and doubts of youth (although we never fully outgrow some of them). But not so old that I don’t recognize my own body and face anymore. I really, really hate looking down at my arms and thinking, “When the fuck did I get my mother’s arms???” No, I don’t want my teenage skin anymore. But I could do without some of the weird shit I see going on with my skin these days.
And of course, to swing this back onto topic a little, there is always the niggling fear that we’re too old to spank. That no one wants to look at our butts or anything else anymore. I mean, I heard from a lovely woman on FetLife who just friended me, who lives in another country. She wrote that she would love to come to a U.S. party someday, but time is running out and she’s afraid she’s too old. She’s 52. (heavy sigh) So yeah. The fear is real. And it gets a little worse every year.
But of course, the clock continues to tick, and life stages continue to morph and change. I don’t want to go back. But I’m not sure who the hell I am and where I fit in now, going forward. Hence the rambles.
If you slogged through all this, thank you. If you relate, please feel free to chime in. Have a good weekend, y’all. Stay safe. ♥
I’m middle aged. My body… lately it feels older than middle age. I’ve got a litany of minor health issues that always dig in this time of year, and aside from anything else, I do wonder about the long term physical reality of being spanked, particularly in a discipline context (which is kind of my primary kink). I know this isn’t exclusive to age, but it’s a real bummer when you want to feel like your partner has all the control… to have to say no because your body just can’t safely take it right now.
I’m older than you and I’d also choose a return to middle age though it’s often not an easy time. I still sometimes play with younger friends but am past the urgent sexual need; with age this came to me as a welcome surprise. Younger friends keep one in tune with and part of rapidly changing times. As well as loving them as I do, this is part of their charm.
I hear you. I must be pretty close to your age because I was “alive during the time The Beatles were writing and recording music”.
My hope is that I’ll get old enough that science can give me a younger body. I’d like to have a forty-year-old body, because I remember how good it felt.
However, I have a deep appreciation for women our age. I find them very attractive, but just not in the way a twenty-year-old is. Part of that is knowing you have all that experience to go on.
I am 60, and have spanked women anywhere from 2-20 years younger, and prefer those close to my age. Its fun being in charge, and watching a to the world routine, attractive middle aged woman’s face when told to get her pants or jeans off for a spanking as I usually tap the point of her nose to emphasize admonishment, when told to bend over my knee, being able to scold and lecture someone that age, and then watching their reactions and complexion change rapidly once you pull her panties down and begin. Telling that same confident 21st century women to stand in the corner bare bottom on display, to write lines in the same non attire sitting in front of Sir, to count spanks and apologize for actions while otk, priceless.
Then going out to dinner, and knowing no one knows the other side of this woman I have just witnessed, transformed to a spankee unable to fully control her reactions.
OH BOY! Erica, do I relate, I’m almost 69 in age and looks only, I have trouble walking , but I’ve been that way since a child, my mind isn’t old, my girlfriend and I are going to the U S when flights resume safely, we will be popping in to see Dev too. Be happy. Bye for now, Jenny, Adelaide SA
In the long run, age wins out and we decline, but I am determined to not surrender just yet. Randy and I are fortunate to still be viable, both professionally and personally, but we don’t want to waste a single day.
I must part company with you and KD about nostalgia. We have an amazing past that we treasure. Randy has photos (scanned polaroids!) that capture spankings that he gave me in the 1970s. The photos and later videos, reinforce so many vivid memories of our years together.
At the same time, we seek to create and preserve lots of new memories. This is who we were, who we are, and who we want to be for as long as it still makes sense. After that, well, we’ll have all we can recall.
You may have started a bit later, but as you said, you quickly made up for lost time. You too have wonderful memories that can sustain you until the opportunity arises again. Speaking as someone also born in the year of Sputnik, you are definitely not too old to spank! ☺♥♫
Hi Bonnie, Just for clarity’s sake let me state firmly that I have no negative view of nostalgia as part of an overall assessment of one’s life. We are creatures of past, present, and future, and to completely ignore the virtues of learning from or even just enjoying memories from the past, having a game plan for the future, and an appreciation of the moment is just as unwise as picking any one of those alone and living in it completely. My post on my blog presented several anecdotes of people I know totally locked into the past. That is what I find unhealthy. Believe me, I enjoy my memories as much as anyone.
I’m glad you wrote what you wrote so I could write what I wrote so you could write what you wrote in this post so I can respond to it now. 😉 ( don’t worry, the rest of this post will hopefully be a bit more lucid.)
Some of my comment here is going to reflect what I wrote to you on my blog, but I don’t think many of your readers would have seen it, so……
First off, wishing. Ah, wishing. “If wishes were fishes then beggars would eat.”–Anonymous saying from English/Scottish origins. And it’s this sentiment that is the gist of my post. It’s as natural to wish as it is pointless, except as a mental exercise. It really doesn’t matter what timeframe or bodily situation one wishes to revert back to. In your case, you say you don’t want to be a kid because your youth sucked, but you do have a ‘sweet spot’ that does appeal to you as a target you would like to return to. The difference between 40’s or 20’s to anyone older than either is immaterial. You can’t return to either.
As I mentioned in my reply, and as sci-fi as this sounds, it is as honest a wish as any I’ve read here from you or others, MY ‘wish’ would not be a return to any age but to have an ageless android body. What good is being any age again………. if you’re only going to age again? And if anyone thinks, “well wishing for THAT is just silly”. They’d be right…….but no sillier than a return to any past age.
No, my point is to just keep moving forward. Stay fresh. Be inspired by the energy and enthusiasm of the youngsters around you, but revel in the experience you have over them. Whatever your age does not allow you to do……find a substitute for. Learn something new. Take up a new interest. Learn a new skill. Keep your mind nimble.
I used to fence. I can’t anymore. So I have moved on. I still teach people some basics during my RenFaire, but my knee and back are shot. So how could I possibly fence like I did when I was 20? But it’s OK. I do other things now.
Now…..to fear the nasty almost cruel fate of dementia, incontinence, infirmity, etc.? Well, who wouldn’t, especially if they have seen to effects of these on their own loved ones? I fear these things and strive to stave off the possibility of any or them, but eventually it will be a losing battle as far as remaining perpetually fit, and….well…..immortal. I don’t want to die either, but I don’t think I have much chance of preventing it….(where’s that android body I wanted? LOL) So, I try not to think about it and just….keep…moving…..forward…. (like those sharks I mentioned in my post. 😉 )
Xen — I get this. I called it “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is saying ‘oh, hell no.'” What we want in our heads and what our bodies will allow is often quite different. I’m sorry for the health issues. ♥
Buster — younger people do keep us on our toes! There’s always something new to learn.
RP — ah, science. They are way too slow. I’m still waiting for teleportation.
Bob — thank you for stopping by.
Jenny — may your mind stay forever young.
Bonnie — oh, believe me, I am not anti-nostalgia. I love things from the past. I just don’t want to be that person who refuses to leave the past, who spends all my present hours reminiscing and mourning what was. I want to be in the now… I’m just struggling a bit to figure out what my now is. ♥
KD — fun riffing off each other, no? Yeah, that android thing sounds pretty good. Or the Fountain of Youth I’ve heard about all my life. Or that freaking portrait in the attic that ages for us. I guess people have been fantasizing about being younger for a hell of a long time. All we can do is take care of ourselves, which I endeavor to do, staying fit, eating properly, etc. I’m not afraid of dying. I’m afraid of returning to an existence in which I wished nightly I could go to sleep and not wake up.
Well, at least getting my butt whupped seems to be keeping that part of my anatomy young. It’s the only part of me that does not seem to be wrinkling up, sagging down or falling out. Shame I’m not into getting my face slapped 🙂
I enjoyed a lot of the parts of my life, from 18 onwards, but I have no desire to re- live those times, except in memories. There is stuff I love now that I used to hate and stuff that I loved in the past that I don’t want to do now. And frankly, I am looking forward to the stuff I will start loving in the future, whatever that will be. Like I said in the comments of KD’s post, “Enjoy the age you’re at” you only get one shot at it.
Prefectdt — no fair! I have to do about a million squats and lunges every week to keep my butt from going south. Spanking doesn’t cut it! (The face slapping comment made me laugh.)
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I always look forward to Erica’s columns, and you still look sensational, Erica.
This blog is awesome in that the new postings by Erica are not predictable, so it stays fresh.
Hope you do more with spanking101. You 2 work well together I think.
Hi! spankedhortic ll, I’m with you on the second part of your comment, but I can’t relate to the first as even though I’ve reached almost 69 (4 days before xmass) Ihave never been spanked, my first boyfriend I had when I was 16 and he was 21 said that’s what he does to cheeky girls when he thought I was being to someone once then we broke. Bye for now, Jenny, Adelaide S.A.
Not to worry Erica. I am 78 and still love to get my butt paddled by my wife. It will keep me young. For the reason check @ Hermione.
Bob — thank you. I did enjoy working with Spanking 101 a great deal, but I’m retired from videos now.
René — good to hear.
I just wanted to say a little something about your cultural references. I was born in ’53. so actually the Marx Brothers (as a cohesive unit) were before both our times. But I do remember Groucho hosting a game show in the ’50s, and Harpo doing a hilarious guest appearance on I Love Lucy. Then, thanks to the invention of videos, I was able to watch movies like Duck Soup. Wow! Those guys were so funny!
Anonymous — definitely before both our time. I discovered them in my teens, when the local TV stations used to run movie marathons. Then I discovered repeats of “You Bet Your Life.” I couldn’t get enough. They were a riot! Now, I have collections of their movies and Groucho’s TV show on DVD.
First, I love those playful and joyous (not to mention cute) photos! Second, I concur with the whole going-back thing. But I was struck by what you noted as a possible exception: “Do I want to be in my 20s again? Christ, no. Okay, I’d take 40s.” Many a time I have thought that, were regressing to an earlier age possible, I would choose my 40th year for two reasons: that’s when I left the train wreck of my first marriage and started life all over again; and because I was old enough to have achieved some of the wisdom that I lacked in my 20s, yet my body was still youthful enough to feel vigorous and moderately attractive to the opposite sex.
I can also relate to your comments about the dread of aging. And I think I’m older than you are, since there were still pterodactyls flying around overhead when I was a young lad. I don’t really fear death, but I am terrified at the prospect of wasting away with dementia as you indicated your mother did, as did my own. No thanks. But thank you for a thoughtful reflection on aging and the spanking kink
Bob — yeah… next to what some people go through, dying seems like a cakewalk. But that’s just me.
I have always been age inappropriate. My best friends were older, and now the last two are terminal.
Yet I started on children late in life, and I can annoy my daughter no end by passing as her grandfather. That brings a much younger crowd into my life. An equal age cousin has real grandkids graduating college, because she did the opposite.
So yes, age has meaning in many ways, but still it is greatly exaggerated. Individuality counts for more, and got ever more important as experiences and choices accumulated.
I don’t live my age. I live my life, the way I’ve made it. That has disconnected from my age for the typical assumptions.
Mark — that’s a very healthy take on it. Thank you. I’m sorry about your friends.
Hi, Erica! I mooned my adult daughter today (just a little bit) because I can…… and she said “Your butt looks like an old pumpkin.” Laughing. I told her she came out of that old pumpkin! Anyway, yours looks much better than mine I am sure even though I don’t look too closely at pictures because I care more about what you and others share about the kind of person you are as well as your experiences than I do bum lookin’. ha! Storm still likes my butt and he tells me that often, so that’s all that matters to me! But, overall, sometimes growing older is hard to think about. Blah! Hugs, Windy
Windy — she said whaaaaaaaaat?? An old line from [the comic whose name has been erased] comes to mind: “I brought you into this world — and I can take you out!” LOL
HAHAHA. I’m old enough to know who that comic was and when he said it. We are very cheeky in our house so joking around is common. She would never say anything that she knew would upset me. She gets her sass from me!
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