This is (Almost) 65: Author/Filmmaker Bridgett M. Davis Responds to The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire
"I like being able to prioritize myself for a change—rather than my children, or my career or even my writing."
From the time I was 10, I’ve been obsessed with what it means to grow older. I’m curious about what it means to others, of all ages, and so I invite them to take “The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire.”
Here, Bridgett M. Davis, filmmaker and author, most recently, of the memoir Love, Rita, responds. -Sari Botton
Bridgett M. Davis (pronounced Brih-JET) is author of the memoir, Love, Rita, published by Harper Books in spring 2025.
Her memoir, The World According To Fannie Davis: My Mother’s Life In The Detroit Numbers, was a New York Times Editors’ Choice, a 2020 Michigan Notable Book, named a Best Book of 2019 by Kirkus Reviews, BuzzFeed, NBC News and Parade Magazine, and featured as a clue on the quiz show Jeopardy! The upcoming film adaptation will be produced by Plan B Entertainment and released by Searchlight Pictures.
She is author of two novels, Into the Go-Slow and Shifting Through Neutral.
She is also writer/director of the 1996 feature film Naked Acts, newly restored and released to critical acclaim in 2024, screening in theaters across the US and abroad, available on DVD, BluRay, & select digital platforms, and streaming on Criterion Channel.
Her Substack newsletter is Naked Acts of Love.
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How old are you?
I am 64. I’ll be 65 in May—eligible for Medicare! Deep.
Is there another age you associate with yourself in your mind? If so, what is it? And why, do you think?
Lately, I often think of myself as 40. My mother always said 40 was not too young and not too old, which I agree with. I loved turning 40. I was a new mom, in a loving marriage, had already accomplished some things both professionally and creatively; and yet so much was still ahead, and I knew that in real time. I felt and looked great. My fraught young adulthood was behind me, as were all those major life choices—who to partner with, whether to have children, what career to pursue, which city to live in….and for a brief time that year, my beloved sister Rita was alive and thriving. Because I just wrote a book about her, LOVE, RITA, these days I find myself wishing I could freeze-frame that moment in my life.
Do you feel old for your age? Young for your age? Just right? Are you in step with your peers?
I feel just right, as in possessing a wisdom and knowledge that can only come from having lived as long as I have, and yet I also feel youthful and expectant, excited about what’s ahead. I feel a bit out-of-step with some of my peers, honestly, in that I’m looking forward to the next big thing to birth into the world—a 5th book, a second feature film, an adaptation of my first memoir—while some of my peers are looking forward to a winding down, or maybe a chance to finally chase their dreams, post-retirement. I feel the opposite—like I’m gearing up for more creative challenges.
I don’t feel physically old, and I’m grateful for good health. But I do take it easy more than I used to. Rest is both restoration and reparations!
I feel a bit out-of-step with some of my peers, honestly, in that I’m looking forward to the next big thing to birth into the world—a 5th book, a second feature film, an adaptation of my first memoir—while some of my peers are looking forward to a winding down, or maybe a chance to finally chase their dreams, post-retirement. I feel the opposite—like I’m gearing up for more creative challenges.
What do you like about being your age?
I like caring less about what other people think. I like not caring about those external markers that are meant to define us. I want say “success,” but in a way that I’ve defined for myself. I honestly feel so successful already that what doesn’t happen for me has far less impact than what does. I go where I get my love, and that is a sweet place to be.
I like that what’s in front of me is largely about what I feel like doing, rather than what I have to do, or am questing to do against some internal or external ticking clock.
I like being able to prioritize myself for a change—rather than my children, or my career or even my writing.
What is difficult about being your age?
Taking care of my health requires more vigilance at this age, and it requires developing literal and metaphorical muscles that I hadn’t been concerned with before. I make it a point to move my body every day—even if it’s just to walk briskly around my Brooklyn neighborhood.
What is surprising about being your age, or different from what you expected, based on what you were told?
The fact that I’m the same age that my mother was when she died is mind-blowing. I thought, back when I was in my early 30s, that I also might only live into my 60s. I hadn’t allowed for the possibility of longevity back then; now, it’s a delightful surprise, to feel as though I’m on the precipice of much more, rather than waning.
What has aging given you? Taken away from you?
Aging has given me more years to both develop and pursue my writing, to hone my voice, and be an author of multiple books. Aging has given me that time to experience and learn more and understand myself better. All that has made me a better writer. Aging has taken away the luxury of procrastination. I feel my finiteness, and that’s been good. I don’t assume there’ll be infinite time to do that next book or other creative project. That awareness has also taken away a lot of my fear of getting it wrong, of questing for perfection. I now know that it’s better to get it done than it is to get it absolutely right. I do my best and let the work live as a document of that effort.
Aging has also given me an appreciation for long-term relationships. My husband and I have been married 27 years, and within that time I’ve been given the opportunity to grow with another person, to learn what it means for love to deepen, to work through life challenges together, to perfect the art of compromise, to be fully vulnerable with another person, to share dreams and disappointments. To argue effectively and apologize sincerely. I’m a richer, fuller human being because of this partnership, and it’s one of my life’s greatest gifts.
The fact that I’m the same age that my mother was when she died is mind-blowing. I thought, back when I was in my early 30s, that I also might only live into my 60s. I hadn’t allowed for the possibility of longevity back then; now, it’s a delightful surprise, to feel as though I’m on the precipice of much more, rather than waning.
How has getting older affected your sense of yourself, or your identity?
I just like myself more, more consistently. I like who I’ve become, and the person I built myself to be.
I decided a few years ago as a New Year’s resolution that I would forgive myself more quickly, and that has been a godsend. If I say the wrong thing, make a mistake, miss an opportunity, have a bad hair day or wear the wrong outfit to an event, I quickly forgive myself and move on. That choice has turned out to be a revolutionary act. It makes me less self-conscious, and more available to others.
And I now accept and believe all compliments directed at me. I do not deflect nor demure. I just say, “Thank you.”
I also see myself as a full-on role model these days, which is an honor. I have new Millennial and Gen Z friends, and that’s both flattering, and illuminating for me. I’m still growing!
What are some age-related milestones you are looking forward to? Or ones you “missed,” and might try to reach later, off-schedule, according to our culture and its expectations?
I’m looking forward to becoming a grandparent. Not likely for a few years at least, but when it happens, I’ll be excited for it. I’m also looking forward to the empty nester phase, and that point in my and my husband’s lives when we have more free time and can do more traveling together.
What has been your favorite age so far, and why? Would you go back to this age if you could?
My favorite age has been 34, because that’s when I directed a feature film that I also wrote and produced. That film, NAKED ACTS, is back out in the world now—30 years later—and while I’m proud of the young woman I was who accomplished that herculean feat, I’m also feeling time collapse; I literally feel like that 34 year old again as young people tell me what the film means to them—many of whom are the age I was when I made the film. It’s a unique experience, and yet it’s not dissonant at all. I like being transported back to that moment in my life, as I share what it was like to make NAKED ACTS and relive the experience for new audiences. But I also like doing so through the prism of who I am now. It confirms for me that our minds are ageless, and memory is timeless.
Aging has given me an appreciation for long-term relationships. My husband and I have been married 27 years, and within that time I’ve been given the opportunity to grow with another person, to learn what it means for love to deepen, to work through life challenges together, to perfect the art of compromise, to be fully vulnerable with another person, to share dreams and disappointments. To argue effectively and apologize sincerely. I’m a richer, fuller human being because of this partnership, and it’s one of my life’s greatest gifts.
Is there someone who is older than you, who makes growing older inspiring to you? Who is your aging idol and why?
I have three aging idols: The author Louise Meriwether, my literary shero, lived to be 100 years old, and she was a dynamic personality and conversationalist almost all the way up until the end. She still wrote every day. My second idol is my son’s godmother, Jane Bond, who is 92 and moved to France when she was in her late 70s, returned to the US, then moved to England in her late 80s, again returned to the states, and moved to Philadelphia from NY at age 90. She’s thinking of moving again, ever in pursuit of fascinating friends & neighbors, real community, and engaging conversation. My third idol is a friend, Audrey Edwards, who moved to Paris when Trump was elected the first time, just as she was turning 70—without speaking French!—and is now living between Paris and New York. She just turned 78 and appears to be living her best life.
What aging-related adjustments have you recently made, style-wise, beauty-wise, health-wise?
I am a devotee of Zumba now. My classmates and I are a true community. And I spend more time and money on clothes that reflect my taste, and what I love. I didn’t always allow myself that indulgence before. I’ve been on back-to-back film and book tours recently, and I’ve embraced the pleasure of showcasing my style. It feels affirming. When you look good, you feel good.
I also buy higher-end hair products these days, even as I accept that my natural hair—with its changing texture—never looks the same twice. I’ve always been lazy about anti-aging creams and rituals, and it shows, but I’ve made peace with that for the most part. I don’t have a lot of gray hair yet, but I’m definitely looking forward to when I’ll have a silvery mane.
Bright lipstick matters more now.
And I’m a fiend about annual doctors’ visits and tests.
I spend more time and money on clothes that reflect my taste, and what I love. I didn’t always allow myself that indulgence before. I’ve been on back-to-back film and book tours recently, and I’ve embraced the pleasure of showcasing my style. It feels affirming. When you look good, you feel good.
What’s an aging-related adjustment you refuse to make, and why?
I left my career as a professor after 32 years, and I refuse to call it “retirement”; I call it “transitioning” because the word retirement is so antiquated. To retire is to go off somewhere and lie down, leave the action behind. I left my job in order to free myself for more exciting pursuits. So, I’ll never call myself a “senior citizen” or “retiree” or “elder.” I like the term “Wise Woman.”
The trailer for Naked Acts, Bridgett M. Davis' newly-rediscovered '96 feature film:
What turn of events had the biggest impact on your life? What took your life in a different direction, for better or worse?
Directing my feature film back in 1994 took my life in a completely new direction. Before then, I was a journalist cum professor with creative aspirations but mostly on the sidelines longingly watching other artists do their thing. Once I took the plunge and made a low-budget, indie film, I had a new identity. I was a New York filmmaker/artist. An entirely new world of people (I met my husband while I was casting the film) and experiences and travel and opportunity opened up for me.
Every creative effort that I’ve pursued since then springs from the confidence and accomplishment that came from making that feature. I’m still feeling the effects today. Just last month, NAKED ACTS screened at MoMA before a full audience as part of a retrospective. My film is now celebrated as a seminal part of the Black and women’s filmmaking renaissance of the 90s. I am SO GLAD I’m still alive to experience the film’s revival, and the newfound recognition. It’s beyond gratifying.
Aging has taken away the luxury of procrastination. I feel my finiteness, and that’s been good. I don’t assume there’ll be infinite time to do that next book or other creative project. That awareness has also taken away a lot of my fear of getting it wrong, of questing for perfection. I now know that it’s better to get it done than it is to get it absolutely right. I do my best and let the work live as a document of that effort.
What is your number one regret in life? If you could do it all over again, what is the biggest thing you’d do differently?
I don’t have any regrets. I made the choices I made with the information I had at the time. Maybe I would’ve worked harder on my posture—I’m a sloucher. And maybe I would’ve learned to speak French as a young woman rather than now, with my older brain. Yes, I do wish I’d pursued my love of tennis more consistently and learned at a young age to swim, and kept a more consistent collaging practice. But those aren’t really regrets, because while I wasn’t doing all those things I was doing other things that I’m glad I did. Hindsight is 20-20, and it’s useless.
What is high up on your “bucket list?” What do you hope to achieve, attain, or plain enjoy before you die?
I hope to write and direct a second feature film. And I’d like to lie on more beaches in beautiful places.
Is there a piece of advice you were given, that you live by? If so, what was it, and who offered it to you?
“Make a way out of no way.” This is a common saying in Black life, and I heard my mother say it often. It was her mantra, and she lived by it. She created a life for us out of nothing, by building an underground lottery business known as the Numbers and thriving at it. Witnessing her do that shaped my life. Everything I’ve accomplished is because I believed in making a way out of no way. I didn’t need to see it first to believe it could be done. I’ve got my mother to thank for that.
Bridgett M. Davis on Today, talking about her mother’s Numbers business:
What are your plans for your body when you’re done using it? Burial? Cremation? Body Farm? Other? And what do you expect to happen to your “soul” or “spirit” after you die?
I want to be cremated, with my ashes strewn over a body of water—the Detroit River perhaps, or New York’s East River. I know that my spirit will live on in the memory of those who’ve loved me. “Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality,” wrote Emily Dickenson. I believe that with all my heart.
I left my career as a professor after 32 years, and I refuse to call it “retirement”; I call it “transitioning” because the word retirement is so antiquated. To retire is to go off somewhere and lie down, leave the action behind. I left my job in order to free myself for more exciting pursuits. So, I’ll never call myself a “senior citizen” or “retiree” or “elder.” I like the term “Wise Woman.”
What’s your philosophy on celebrating birthdays as an adult? How do you celebrate yours?
I believe in celebrating birthdays. I tend to go to dinner with my family; my husband and children always present me with a gift. For many years, well into their teens, the kids gave me hand-made, heartfelt cards. I loved that so much. I try to spend time with a good friend on my birthday too. If it’s a milestone birthday, as I’m about to have, I do a bit more.
I celebrated my 60th milestone birthday during the pandemic; my husband threw me a surprise Zoom party. Believe it or not, it was one of my favorite birthday celebrations! Dear friends of mine joined us from all over the country, as well as London, Argentina, and Sweden. It was amazing.
This year, my celebration will definitely include a spa day, a collage-art class, and drinks somewhere with a view of Manhattan’s skyline.
Also, in this social media age, birthday wishes via Facebook and texts are a reminder that I matter to many, that my community of loved ones is large. That’s one more beautiful thing about living longer – you get to accumulate more friends!
What a wonderful description of a long-term relationship: "the opportunity to grow with another person, to learn what it means for love to deepen, to work through life challenges together, to perfect the art of compromise, to be fully vulnerable with another person, to share dreams and disappointments." A good one!
I love this series and discovering artists that are new to me. Great interview!