Content note: Mention of sexualised violence
Consent may start with simple questions, which are sometimes so difficult for us, but it means much more to me. Asking about my wishes and what I want first showed me that my needs are important; first for the other person, but ultimately of course for me. I wish I had known that for myself much earlier, but I didn’t.
I don't know what exactly taught me, especially in my teenage years, that my sexual needs, desires and boundaries were not important. I don't know if it was the lack of education from my parents, but also from school. Or the sexual assaults I had to experience. Or my friends and the boys from class who constantly slutshamed¹ me when I kissed someone at a party. Or the images of sexuality presented to me in the media. Or the simple fact that I grew up as a girl in a patriarchal² society in which, among others, women are systematically denied the right to self-determined sexuality. In the end, it was probably all of the above. All the little and big things that kept telling me in different ways that my sexuality was not mine. I had internalised it so much that I didn't even realise it myself.
I never really felt like having sex either. If I'm honest with myself, I probably only had my first sexual experiences besides kissing so I could finally drink in the sex questions on "Never have I ever". We never talked about anything during those first experiences either. Consent was assumed or didn't matter.
The first time I was asked if I wanted to have sex, it was really unusual for me. If you've never seriously asked yourself that question, then of course it's to be expected. But it also felt really good right away. I didn't want to at that moment, I could just say no and that was okay.
With the questions about what I like, what I want and what I don't want, I started to understand that I too have and am allowed to have sexual needs, and that somehow that can also be quite beautiful. I really felt like having sex for the first time in my life and every Yes, felt so much better when my No's were finally heard too.
All the questions didn't just make me want to have sex again though. They also made me look at what I actually like in bed. And that was and is definitely not an easy process. It requires a lot of patience. You can't just sit down, think a bit about what you want and then communicate that. I've dealt with my hurts and past violations of my boundaries, I've felt what it has done to me and I keep asking myself what I really want. Often I am simply frustrated because I don't know and then I doubt myself again.
In the meantime, in addition to the old, deep conviction that it simply doesn't matter what I want, there are also new "feminist" demands on me. I often have the feeling that I have to know exactly what I want and what I don't want. And when I don't know, I feel weak and unfeminist. I know that's totally stupid. I know that it's okay not to know everything all the time and that I can't expect to after all I’ve experienced. I know that my feminist aspiration should be to be patient and compassionate with myself.
Consent for me started mainly with questions about consent for sexual acts and questions about what I like. Meanwhile, it is a constant learning process that I don't even know if it will ever be completed. If we want to have sex that all participants really want and where we meet as equals, then it takes much more than questions and consent. Then consent also means jointly questioning (power) dynamics in interpersonal relationships and patriarchal roles, being radically honest with oneself and repeatedly confronting oneself and the other person together.
And in doing so, it also always means shared responsibility. For me, it means above all having the feeling that I am not alone in the task of communicating my boundaries and becoming aware of my needs. After all, it was made clear to me for a very long time that I was not allowed to have any. I want to tell about my insecurities and hurts and then look for ways to deal with them together. And that goes the other way round too, of course.
Of course I wish I had learned all these things about myself on my own. I wish I had grown up in a society where learning about one's own boundaries and needs is a matter of course and where sexualised violence⁴ is not still part of everyday life for so many of us. But that is not the case. And I don't want to wait until patriarchy is abolished to have sex.
❓Questions for reflection
- Do you have difficulty knowing what you want in sexual contexts?
- What were you taught about your sexuality as a child? Do you think this still shapes you today?
- What attitudes towards sexuality were you taught when you were young?
- What were you taught when you were young about your boundaries, needs, feelings and how were you taught to communicate them?
- Are you always clear about what you want in intimate moments? Do you find it difficult to communicate this?
- If you sometimes don't know exactly what you want in sexual contexts, how do you deal with it? How does your partner deal with it? How do you want it to be handled?
- Do you sometimes (in intimate situations) feel obliged to someone to know exactly what you want?
- Is consensus simply about making sure you don't do anything wrong? Do you think that sometimes even a yes doesn't have to mean that the person really wants it? How would you deal with that?
- Do you think consensus, in addition to asking and agreeing, can also mean talking together about insecurities, learned overriding of one's needs and boundaries?
- When you had sex, did you think about whether the other person might find it difficult to communicate boundaries and needs accurately? How did you deal with this?
ℹ️ Explanation of terms:
¹Slutshaming: Slutshaming is a practice of devaluation based on sexuality that mostly affects women and girls. For example, those who have sex with different partners and live out their sexuality openly are devalued and labelled as "sluts".
²Patriarchy: Social order that gives men a privileged position in society and the family.
³"Never have I ever": is a drinking game in which a person makes a statement about something they have never done. Everyone who has done this thing before has to drink.
⁴sexualised violence: See introduction in July 2022.