Men* of an Uncertain Age
I don’t come either to praise or to bury them — not least because I count myself among their number — but to acknowledge the existence of, and characterise in a very low-rent amateur psychology sort of way, a generation of men in the kink who, due to temporary and never-to-be-repeated circumstances, are more than usually fucked up.
The men I’m talking about are those whose traditional period of sexual and emotional development — basically, puberty and adolescence – occurred before the popularisation of the Internet, but who then landed in a post-popular-Internet world in young adulthood or middle age with desires and skills that suddenly had a place and a value, but without the hardening and emotional maturity of years of relationship beginnings and endings when those would normally have occurred.
It’s probably bizarre to the point of Four-Yorkshiremen-sketch quaintness how meagre the scraps available to pre-‘net kinksters were — at least those with a measure of insecurity or introversion sufficient to keep them from the small, secret, metropolitan underground. For most, the experience was of differentness and isolation, with no particular expectation of that situation changing. At best, there might have been unfulfilling vanilla sex — society’s pressures to conform being pretty strong — and clumsy fumblings towards BDSM. At worst, vanilla sex not being interesting or fulfilling at all, the engine which powers adolescent connection never really got going, and the result was a turning inwards. In any event, the exploration and maturation of what they were really into was retarded, delayed, postponed, perhaps indefinitely. Crucially, not only were idiosyncratic BDSM desires not explored and understood, but the basic social grammar of relationship management wasn’t learned by direct experience. Crushes were distant, and hearts didn’t get used to being broken and put back together again by the next fling.
For previous generations, this situation was just how it was, and for most entailed a settling into an incomplete but safe relationship, perhaps with an illicit cherry on the side. The Internet changed all of that, offering education, kinship, and the possibility of a complete and fulfilling expression of kink. And so a generation of kinky men launched themselves into a brave new world in which their desires fit, and were valued, with raging hormones and long-held fantasies, but little in the way of relationship skills and experience. Being male and middle-aged in this world was/is no particular disadvantage, since father figures are highly sought after — ironically for the experience that many such men conspicuously lack.
All of this is old-hat and uncontroversial, but I’d like to add something that I think is a key aspect of the dynamic. Many kinky men whose sexual and emotional development was pre-Internet, but whose expression of kink is post-Internet, missed the learning curve that ought to have come with normal relationship patterns, but they also missed something else: affirmation of their desirability. And also: absent some pretty expensive therapy and self-awareness work, for many I’m not sure that lack ever goes away. The corollary is to see kink expression as an adult as a search for affirmation that one is desirable; that what one can do, or provide, is cherished and valued.
If the search for affirmation never goes away, how does it express itself? There are lots of ways, I think: men who keep a pseudo harem of partners, for example; or who flit from one bright young thing to the next; or who seek out models as trophy play partners or “interviewees”. In myself I recognise that, curiously but revealingly, I value the fact that someone might express a desire to play with me more than the play itself. The play might be fulfilling, but the expression of desire is affirming. I would rather know that someone I found desirable found me desirable in a kink setting, but we never played, than play with someone for whom the desire wasn’t there in the same way. This might seem self-evident, but it clearly isn’t universal. It’s one reason — in a mess of reasons — why I’m very unlikely to make a first move towards playing with someone: one can have greater trust in the existence of desire if asked to play, than if one’s own request is accepted.
It’s obviously true, but worth reinforcing anyway, that even if any of the above is true, it’s a small part of a complex of emotional issues that men have with kink relationships. But I do think that the pre- and post-Internet aspect of this issue for a specific generation of men is significant. Assuming there’s some validity, is it just kink-related? Probably not, but it’s what I have the greatest experience and visibility of. It seems likely that any emotional or sexual trait which led to a difficulty forming significant relationships during childhood and young adulthood — and a consequent lack of affirmation — but which difficulty was then alleviated by the popularisation of the Internet, would contribute to similar patterns of male fucked-upness.
It’s also worth reinforcing that none of the above is meant to condone being a wanker, just to discuss some of the context. In any event, it won’t be very long before time helps to work this out; pretty soon, “pre-Internet” will go the way of “WWI veteran”, or “Titanic survivor”.
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* I’m only talking about men here, partly because I don’t feel qualified to do anything else (and barely even that), and partly because the situation for women is/was somewhat different. For example, a woman launching into a kink world in middle-age is faced with a very different landscape than a man of the same age.
Thanks for this perspective, one I never really thought much about. All I can say is it ain’t no picnic for women of (past) a certain age. It only occurred to me recently that I could not relate at all to the supposedly universal raging hormones of adolescence. I didn’t have to -try- to be a good girl because I wanted to do spanky things, not fucky things. That worked exactly once. I won’t go into the delights of being Not a Sweet Young Thing.
I have seen comments on other blogs where people say, “Oh, it is just so very brave and soul-baring of you to post this!” — for posts where I’m shrugging and thinking, “Ok, special *how*?”
But this post does seem to me to be both very brave and very soul-baring. To start with the latter, it’s one thing to pick apart a trait you notice in other people. (I’ve done some posts like that myself!) But to include yourself as part of the group you are analyzing … is something not often done! To say, “And I myself resemble these remarks” — that’s pretty damn open and amazing.
And then there is the brave bit — I wonder how other men who “resemble these remarks” are going to take them? Obviously, if they attack you too vigorously, they will be telling the world that they feel you’ve cut too close! But, seriously, you have very closely wielded the razor of introspection here, and others may resent the sting. I hope you provoke serious discussion and not the usual interwebz backlash.
Thank you so much for sharing all of this. It’s a really brilliant perspective into a problem which has been talked about in both the BDSM and spanko worlds, but nothing has been done about it — at least nothing to help the poor guys who have fallen, through no fault of their own, into that gap.
Zille,
If you saw my stats, you wouldn’t worry about a backlash, truly. But in any event it’d only be brave if I actually cared what people think. (Those two sentences might be related somehow. Hmm.)
That’s a generous way to put it. While I definitely don’t want to be all boo-hoo-don’t-men-have-a-hard-time-of-it (because they don’t, especially), I suppose a greater awareness of how they’re sometimes motivated is useful — not least to the men themselves. But that does only go so far. Like poker, life isn’t just about the hand you’re dealt. How you play it is also important.
This is a really valuable analysis. You say “All of this is old-hat and uncontroversial” but from my position of internet-enabled, youthful, female-bodied privilege, it’s not, and thank you for increasing my awareness.
It’s something I’m very aware of from the chats I’ve had with hobbyist photographers, and the gents I’ve met joining spanker friends in 2-2-1 sessions. There’s a whole demographic of people – and the gender dynamics mean I’ve only met blokes – who fit exactly this description. I’ve always found it much, much easier to be empathic about people e.g. cheating on their partners in this context, and aware of my privilege in having access to the internet so young. But you are absolutely right that my privilege goes beyond that – having dramatic, explosive, alternative relationships from the age of 13 was a privilege, getting my first heartbreak over with so young and learning how to go forward from it. I hadn’t really thought of that in those terms before, but you’re right.
Where do submissive/bottom-identified men fit into your analysis? I’ve met a lot of them, and they’re less likely to fall into the trap of ending up being inappropriate daddy figures without the emotional/relationship experience, but other than visiting professional spankers, is there a place for them at all?
Pandora,
Right, it’s definitely useful and healthy to do it early. My fear is for men who haven’t just had that process delayed, but who — like the mega-rich film star who never forgets a poor background and makes unwise career decisions because of that — need a constantly renewed source of affirmation. It can become a kind of drug habit, I think.
WRT submissive/bottomish men, I honestly don’t know how/if they fit. Certainly I was writing with dominant/toppish men in mind. Despite self-identifying as a switch, male bottoms are a bit of a mystery to me. There’s obviously a lot of neediness there, but I’m not sure it comes from quite the same place. My gut feeling is that a better place to look might be the relationship between living in a world of (generally speaking) male privilege, in which they have (generally speaking) a lot of power, and the desire to give up that power.
I’m not sure that all women of a certain age had an advantage. I know I didn’t. Those of us who are bigger spent the years before the internet wondering if men would want to spank us. Once on the internet, falling for the first man who talked to us, without seeing us of course, was the biggest risk. I fell for two men who EVENTUALLY said that they were married. Luckily they didn’t last long. I had never dated much pre-internet, and got married to the man I thought was my one shot at it. I’ve been single for 13 years now, and the relationship stuff is still not something I’m great at. I can understand why male Tops have that problem, because they want somebody to spank, and there are women who won’t play with just anybody. The thing is, I think men in general are used to being shot down when it comes to asking, whether it’s for a date OR to be able to spank somebody.
[…] the kinky community – and coming to terms with their own sexuality – late in life: Men of an uncertain age. “Crucially, not only were idiosyncratic BDSM desires not explored and understood, but the […]
[…] couple days ago, I read a remarkable post on this topic by Paul, which he calls, “Men of an Uncertain Age.” It’s no so much a description of his experience as a kinky adolescent and young adult […]
@Paul: I agree with Zille that this is a particularly brave and open post. Even though I’m a woman of an uncertain age, rather than a man, you’ve provided me with valuable perspective about my own experiences. I’ve tried to gather my thoughts in this post on my own blog: http://wp.me/pHj5n-lp
@Jen: I actually understood Paul as implying that it might be even harder for women because of the desirability of the middle-aged male in the spanking scene. Of course, the flip side is that men outnumber women, so maybe it’s a wash.
Indy,
Right, that’s what I was saying, although as an outsider’s impression rather than my own experience, obviously. I think the men I was referring to have had it both harder and easier. Harder because they’re not especially well-equipped for the relationship minefield, and easier because the image they present to the world has a serendipitous intrinsic attraction. Looking right and talking the talk gets a middle-aged man in the scene a long way, even if emotionally he’s a bit under-developed.
I’m just barely old enough to fall into the demographic you’re talking about, and I have to say I recognize myself in this: “The engine which powers adolescent connection never really got going, and the result was a turning inwards.” I never really had a relationship until I was 24 when I found a vaguely-kinky lady, and that didn’t last, in part because I was clueless about how to act. I always found it astonishingly hard to date or even flirt because I never learned those skills. It wasn’t until 2003, shortly after I started my blog and put my kinky sexuality out there, that I found myself the object of sexual interest. That was affirming and exciting and wonderful, but it’s very true that I didn’t know how to act, and I fear I may have hurt (or at least puzzled and confused) several ladies who made me the object of their online flirtations.
As discussed, here’s the note (well, opus) I shared with Mija in response after she shared this excellent post with me on Bluesky. I followed a string post I made there discussing a related aspect of TTWD.
A Response to Paul’s Essay (Or why do I’M so special?)
I’ve thought about Paul’s essay a lot and about why the feelings he so eloquently expresses–that seem like they ought to be near universal for middle-aged men in TTWD for all the reasons he sets forth–just don’t end up resonating with my experience. Here’s what I’ve come up with. (Get a coffee.)
I think the explanation is, in the end, about a very precise bit of timing.
I was born in early 1960, grew up in a large midwest city as part of an extended Irish/Central European family, all Catholic. We kids watched TV–a lot of TV–when we weren’t playing ball in the street. In the summers, we’d . . . play ball in the street . . . .and hang out at each other’s houses and go to the community pool and go to CYO sleep-away camp for a couple of weeks. (I’d go on to work seven summers at a CYO camp as a junior then senior counselor then department head.) As a Boomer, my world was just crowded with kids around my own age. (I had 54 first cousins.)
It would be hard to overstate the ubiquity of spanking in the culture in my younger days. (And I mean spanking in the sense of TTWD. The other sort of spanking was all around, too, of course. (See, “extended Irish/Central European Catholic family,” supra.)) Accepting that my keen interest, beginning pre-puberty, may well have skewed my perception of this ubiquity, I’m pretty certain that a week did not go by where I didn’t see some cultural representation of a man spanking (or threatening to spank) a woman in some adult or near-adult context. (C.f., every third old movie of any genre on the little TV in the basement that the kids got to control; Lucy, Capt. Kirk, Elvis, “Route 66,” Gidget; the Heinlien and Fleming I read; etc. etc. etc. forever.) Indeed, this prevalence of something like TTWD was hardly limited to the media.
Some examples:
I was 11, at a family cookout, when I saw my 16-year-old sister snatched up by her boyfriend, tossed over his lap, and given six or ten solid spanks on her shorts. Then, five months later, at a large family Christmas party (ALL our family parties were “large family parties”) my probably 20-year-old cousin upended his probably 18-year-old sister in the sunroom where there were perhaps eight or nine of us gathered and spanked her for what felt to me like a long time on her skirt. The public reactions to both these incidents (including, tellingly, my Dad’s reaction to the cookout event) were largely laughter or raucous encouragement. My sister, despite having exclaimed in a way that made it clear the spanks were genuine, got up, said called our her boyfriend (“Ji-mee!!”) with mock outrage, then sat laughing on his lap. My cousin seemed genuinely outraged, but not hugely so. She socked her brother in the arm – but she didn’t flee the gathering or even the room.
My first year as a CYO junior counselor (age 15) two of the very “senior” counselors (college kids) were notoriously dating. Several of us, including that girl were loitering by the snack shack, dodging some sort of work, no doubt. The boyfriend stopped by, whispered into the girlfriend’s ear, and the girlfriend sort of blanched, then sort of smiled. I distinctly heard her tell the other older girl, “Oh man. I am in for spanking.” (In retrospect, she didn’t lower her voice at all, a choice upon which one can speculate.) She saw me looking, knew I’d heard, and merely smirked at me with the superiority to which her great maturity entitled her.
In sum, growing up, what I saw was:“Men spank women.” And also learned that the women were often (nearly always in the media and often in fact, as with with my sister and the camp counselor) beguiled by this – at least after the fact. [I’m NOT a fool. I’m not saying this was ever or should ever have been somehow universally true. I’m simply saying this is what I learned from that culture in which I swam.]
As I entered puberty (I was a bit of late bloomer; let’s call it not fully on at about 14 or so) I did have a moment of pause. It became, er, evident that my interest in and attraction to spanking was not some cool and dispassionate observance of a mere fact of the culture. While it had never occurred to me to wonder if “liking” to see a girl being spanked was wrong, briefly–between say 13 and 15–I feared that becoming AROUSED by it might be “dirty” or “abnormal.” But then (Ah. Sweet rationalization.) having been raised in the RCC (by the Irish!), I was pretty sure that being aroused by anything was dirty, so that bit didn’t much bother me. And the concern about it being abnormal was fairly soon relieved by the references to spanking–rare and clumsy (or gross) but still present–in the occasional bits of regular pornography we all shared as young teens. I at least could see someone else thought spanking was sexy, so I guessed it was probably OK.
So that was the culture. What was the lived experience?
By the time I started dating, I knew that I wanted to spank the girls I dated. I soon had, as described in the initial thread, an oblique but effective way to broach the subject. Many more girls were interested than perhaps you’d guess. Far from being surprised by this, my cultural experience meant I expected it. (Indeed, they grew up in the same culture, so that likely had something to do with their disposition toward the topic.) Those not interested were never–not once–offended enough by the inquiry to break off.
The first girl I dated in college (at another large midwestern city), I’ll call Terry. She was a literal farm girl to my city boy. We were both 18. She said something adorable and sassy on date number two. I deployed one of my standard lines (forgive me, I had “lines”): “Why you brat. When was the last time you were spanked?” (In my head I sounded like Connery’s Bond.) Now she might have said what some girls certainly said (albeit usually with a laugh): “Never. [Or, not since I was six.] And you sure the fuck aren’t going to be the one to start it up again.” And I’d have said, “Okie doke. Want another beer?” And no one would have been troubled.
What Terry DID say, peeking up from under her long copper bangs, freckled face blushing for the prize, was “I’m not sure. A while I guess.”
Well golly.
But that moment (which is a pretty good example of how we found one another “in the wild” in 1978), as charming as it is, isn’t the what’s key here. Here’s what’s key: Date four or five, Terry is over my lap at the conclusion (I thought) of (what I thought was) a pretty brisk spanking. Jeans still down; underpants back in place. She looks back, does the “peek under the bangs” thing again, and says “Ya know, if you wanted, you could spank me harder than that. Don’t worry if I cry a little.”
“Well golly “ squared.
Now try to imagine what that conversation would look like now between two well-educated participants in the scene: “That was satisfactory, Boomer, but the dynamic I’m really seeking involves more substantial impact play and the possibility of a cathartic emotional release. So what I need, and what I am consenting too, is a spanking that is both more intense and longer. You may employ, and I consent to, the following list of implements to achieve this. [Insert list.] I understand that this could result in more and longer-lasting marking, to which I also consent. My consent is good until withdrawn. So let me ask you: Are you comfortable with these new parameters? Are marks or tears any sort of trigger for you?”
I exaggerate, of course, and no doubt unkindly. (The hell do I know? I’ve never actually been in the scene.) And that statement is certainly more comprehensive and definitive than “Ya know, if you wanted, you could spank me harder than that. Don’t worry if I cry a little.” But damme if it’s anywhere near so charming. And Terry certainly communicated what she needed to for me to understand.
OK, brace yourself. I was maybe 30–so about 1990, a couple of years before marrying my lovely bride–before I ever heard of a safeword. [Pause for outraged gasps.] And neither, evidently, had any of the scores of women I’d spanked. [Pause again.] And when I heard of it, I assumed it was only BDSM, which (I was/am convinced) was an entirely different species of creature. [I know. I know.] What regulated and limited one’s behavior as a spanker (insert “male spanker,” as I conceived of it exclusively) was the very same culture that told me spanking women was the norm. Because far more powerful norms dictated that one be a gentleman–with all the enormous host of smaller norms that larger norm included.
Spanking, I learned and ardently believed, was somehow utterly distinct from the accursed act of “hitting a woman,” a thing no gentleman would ever do and expect to remain a part of decent society. Cagney smashing a grapefruit into a woman’s face? Proof, even beyond the homicides, that “The Public Enemy” was an evil man. G.W. paddling Kate’s bloomers? Proof (affirmed by Kate’s reaction) of his love and mastery and her enthusiastic devotion.
Making a girl squirm with anticipation, then yip and kick and maybe even cry while you make her bottom scarlett red? Normal, even good. Making a girl actually AFRAID, let alone injuring her, striking her anywhere but her bottom (well thighs)? You are spineless scum, your body fodder for pigs. So the result was I had more than a few girls (like Terry) ask me one way or another to up the ante. I only ever had one say, after the fact, “I think that was too hard for me.” With the result I felt like a cad, and she had to really reassure me next time she wanted spanked at all.
Standing on these norms–moreover, having the spanked girl protected by these norms–is nowhere near as clean and clear and, well, safe as safewords. I concede this willingly. But, with good faith, it did work then.
Now let’s be clear on my current views: Do I think safewords are essential? I do. Do I think that folks engaged in spanking (especially in the context of “playing” “in the scene” who may know each other only slightly) should negotiate their play carefully, explicitly, and in detail? I do. Do I recognize the deeply, exclusionary hetero-normative nature of the culture I described and absorbed, and do I think truly consenting adults can play as they please? I do.
I’m simply pointing that–born when I was born, raised as I was raised–I didn’t feel the want of safwords, because I was regulated by the “gentleman” norms. I didn’t feel the want of negotiations, because we seemed to accomplish the same thing with more tacit, even coded language–and then, for the past 33 years, because I’m playing out TTWD with MLB, and we share deep communication and understanding. I didn’t feel any pressure from the hetero-normative norms because, as it happened, I’m profoundly straight.
All this is an exhaustive, exhausting way to say that I didn’t come to TTWD with a lot of guilt or angst. And the way it played out, my earliest experiences (’70s through college graduation in ’82) and intermediate experiences (through the ’80s and mid ’90s) did nothing to add any angst to the mix. By the time anyone was having REALLY deep discussions about TTWD in a way that was easily accessible (i.e., with the proliferation of the WWW in the mid-1990s), I’d been in a frequent-spanking, “DD-light” marriage with a perfectly like-minded woman for three years.
[The one wrinkle for me is what I addressed in the thread that started this: Some doubt for a while (during the earliest of the ’90s) when I realized that what I liked wasn’t JUST spanking her bottom and all the heat and romance of that, but the seeing and experiencing her distress. I won’t reiterate that thread; I’ll merely note that is/was interior. My behavior was/is regulated as above.]
I am NOT oblivious to the fact that many others did suffer from the lack of structure in those olden days. I KNOW that there were cads who abused that world, unconcerned with any standard of decency. I am CERTAIN that many, many involved in all aspects of TTWD have suffered self-doubt (even self-loathing), anxiety, uncertainty, stress, and all manner of woe. The current world–more open, explicit, thoughtful–should be doing much to alleviate or at least ameliorate all that. I hope it is. I’m just saying that, through this particular alignment of the stars, I never suffered those things. Call it Boomer privilege, I suppose. I know that was a blessing. And insofar as my partners interactions with me were concerned, we did everything we could to make one another happy in that world and succeeded more often than not.
So Paul’s essay landed differently for me.
tl;dr: If we were all less thoughtful and careful and socially conscious and psychosexually evolved about TTWD back then (and we were!), the whole thing was also just a lot less . . . fraught. Because of this, I’ve been lucky not to experience self-doubts and conflicts that more thoughtful men, bred in or encountering more thoughtful times just a few years later, understandably have.