I invited someone over to my place a few weeks ago. I texted them early in the day to meet up later in the night, but by the time we were supposed to meet up, I wasn’t feeling it. I was tired, but I felt bad for backing out — I was the one who asked them to hook up and knew they would be disappointed. So, I kept my commitment and we met up.
It was sex that I agreed to, but was it sex under the basis of consent?
What is consent, even? In the most basic terms, consent is agreeing to something. In more sexual terms, consent can mean, “Yes, I agree to and would like to have sex with you under certain conditions that I feel comfortable with.”
The “would like to” portion is important because it’s something we can sometimes gloss over. I’ve hooked up many times where I’ve said “yes,” but for various reasons — whether I was tired, felt sick or just wasn’t in the mood — I did not actually want to have sex.
A lot of these times, I said “yes” because I didn’t want to explain why I was saying “no.” I thought saying I was tired would be a silly excuse and felt the need to justify my “no.”
We discussed this phenomenon in “Yes Means Yes,” a positive sexuality seminar that I’m participating in on campus. In the foreword of the book we’re discussing, “Yes Means Yes: Visions of Female Sexual Power and a World Without Rape,” Margaret Cho describes this as a “rape of the spirit.”
She says it’s “a dishonest portrayal or distortion of my own desire in order to appease another person — so it wasn’t rape at gunpoint, but rape as the alternative to having to explain my reasons for not wanting to have sex.”
I get it — rape is a really strong word. But sex without consent isn’t sex. If you’re engaging in sexual activity, you need to know what consent is and is not.
Here are some things that you should know about consent:
Consent needs to be freely given, meaning you cannot physically or emotionally coerce someone into having sex with you. Saying something like, “But babe, we haven’t had sex in ages. It’s like you don’t even care anymore,” is emotionally coercive.
Consent to one thing does not mean consent to everything. You can consent to giving oral sex but not penetrative sex. You can consent to having sex with a condom but not sex without one — and yes, if your partner agrees to sex with a condom but you don’t wear one, that’s rape, because you’re ignoring the rules that your partner consented to sex under.
Prior consent does not equal current consent. Just because someone had sex with you once doesn’t mean they want to have sex with you again. And just because someone isn’t saying “no” doesn’t mean they’re saying “yes.”
There have been campaigns to push for consent. You’ve probably heard “consent is sexy” before. It’s great to increase awareness about consent, but this does it in the wrong way.
The phrase, “consent is sexy” basically says, “This person didn’t sexually assault me. That’s so hot!” which is about as ridiculous as, “He didn’t burn my house down. What a turn on!” or, “She didn’t murder me. I’ve got a huge boner!”
At the end of the day, consent isn’t sexy. Rather, consent is necessary. Any sexual activity that occurs without consent isn’t sex — it’s rape.
Instead of saying that consent is sexy, let’s normalize it. Let’s bring the concept of consent out of the bedroom and into other areas of life.
You order broccoli with your dinner and your friend tells you they don’t like broccoli. You don’t sit there going, “You’ll like this. Just try it. Please, for me?” Now replace broccoli with sex. Your friend said no. Respect that and move on.
Asking for consent doesn’t have to ruin the mood. Consent can be made sexy — for example, I don’t mind dirty talk when asking if I’m into something, although some people might not appreciate that.
Or, just do a quick, 10-second check-in: “Hey, are you sure you want to do this right now?” If they say “yes,” carry on. If they hesitate, look unsure or say “no,” stop immediately.
Knowing your partner is enjoying themselves, knowing they want to be there, knowing they want to hook up with you? Now that’s sexy.
Robyn Smith is a UF journalism junior. Her column appears on Fridays.
[A version of this story ran on page 7 on 3/20/2015 under the headline “Consent is not sexy, but it doesn’t need to be — it’s necessary”]
