I was older than my husband and together we had a couple of friends older than me and quite older than him, two professors, one in psychology but also a biography author, and one an english prof, whose classes my husband had taken earlier. We were pals as a group, a level field of jolly arguers. Plus, Harvey needed some one to go to restaurants with. Kidding, kidding, he was one of the tiny number at our wedding.
I was in my thirties, and used to run/jog in a lot of places in west Los Angeles, and one of them was in the neighborhood of the Sawtelle YMCA. For a reason I don't remember, the bio author and I went for a walk in that neighborhood - maybe I had been the one to know where to park our cars, as I went to that Y. I'll guess we were meeting my husband at one of the japanese restaurants. My point -
he kept maneuvering me to the inside of the sidewalk. I squawked. I had run those streets many times by myself fgdsakes. He was protecting me from marauders in automobiles or bicycles. Two irritated people.
I'll call that distinction re age and upbringing. He wasn't wrong. Neither was I.