The Issue of Consent

I am, what my therapist frequently refers to as, a people-pleaser. It’s a pretty self-explanatory term, but the long and short of it is that I struggle to set boundaries for myself. Sometimes people make the mistake of thinking that this trait in me means that I don’t know how to say no, but that’s not the case; I do know how to say no, but past experiences and trauma have taught me that my refusal will almost always be met with hostility, disdain, and even violence.

Today on Twitter I watched as people argued back and forth about issues of consent. I’ve made it sound trivial. Let me be clear right now and say that this isn’t a trivial matter, not to me nor to many others.

Not for the first time I saw blame laid at the door of victims in the guise of “Just Say No” and the idea that people should be more vocal about their lack of consent. Well, I thought I’d take the time for those people who apparently don’t seem to understand basic social nuances to clarify what consent is, and most importantly, what consent is not.

First of all, no means no. No means no. My three-year-old nephew understands this, so fully grown adults have absolutely no excuse. If someone is brave enough to give you a flat refusal, you ought to respect that. And believe me, it is bravery, because people-pleaser or not, we’re all frightened, and that alone should horrify, not offend you.

“Mixed signals” is something I saw thrown about a lot this morning. I can tell you with absolute certainty, a mixed signal is not consent. At best it’s a maybe, which should be met with patience and respect, not coercion. A maybe is not a yes. It’s a maybe. It’s far closer to a no than a yes.

One act of sexual intimacy is not consent for another. A kiss is not consent for a blowjob. A blowjob is not consent for intercourse. We’re people too, you know. Sometimes things move too quickly and we need time to evaluate the situation before we are comfortable moving further. Sometimes we just want to stop.

A smile is not consent. I smile at people without thinking, because I’m being polite. It’s not an invitation for sex. Shockingly.

Do you want to know what consent is? It’s a yes. A flat yes. Without a shadow of a doubt yes. And if you’re not sure? Ask. Ask! Do it for yourself as much as for your partner, but please, just ask the question. Can I kiss you? Is this okay? May I…?

And for those people throwing their toys out of the pram and saying it takes away from the passion of the moment, just you sit your ass down and listen: If you honestly believe that talking to your sexual partner, whispering into their mouth, moaning against their skin what you want to do to them, and making them beg for you, making them say how badly they want you, is passionless? Lordy. You are missing out.

Consent is sexy. Communication is sexy. Both of you having fun is fucking sexy.

But you know this. You all know this, really. I’m not saying anything revolutionary over here. We were all socialised the same way as my three-year-old nephew, who understands when he isn’t allowed something, and that no amount of screaming and crying and being cross will help him get it.

It just seems like some people think the rules don’t apply to them anymore, and that is the real issue here.