I haven’t always been good at communication.  With all the social conditioning to which people are subjected, communication between men and women who know each other well isn’t always easy.  But take two relative strangers and add to the mix the raging hormones of the typical teenager or young adult, and it’s a wonder that communication is even possible in the first place.

Even when I learned to communicate – and I mean properly communicate, not simply nod and say “uh-huh” whenever a woman spoke to me – I wasn’t an expert at reading signals.  Nor did I ever relish the prospect of having to wade through the thick brush of vagueness and misdirection to decipher the true meaning beneath the surface.

While perusing Sexis, the EdenFantasys online magazine, I came across an article entitled Have a Little Kink with Your Consent.  In it, the author discussed, amongst other things, how to make consent a part of sex play in such a way that it doesn’t interfere with or damage the overall mood.

I attended college in the mid-1990s.  The sexual atmosphere post Clarence Thomas but pre Monicagate was one of extreme caution.  Predatory male monsters were everywhere, and the fear of sexual harassment, rape, and other penis-driven crimes had hitherto mild-mannered men everywhere wondering if they could be part of the problem.  The need for express written (i.e. explicit and provable) consent prior to sexual activity was drummed into our heads repeatedly.  It was almost an equation: Failing to obtain said consent might land you in a jail cell where you’d have to fend off similar advances.

Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating.  But only a little.  And I’m not in any way saying that caution is a bad thing, or that the situation was overblown; sexual assault and rape are very real, very serious crimes, and beyond them, the “blame the victim” mentality so prevalent in society is one of the most inexplicable and horrible phenomena I can think of.

But as an awkward eighteen-year-old newly arrived at an institution of higher learning, overwhelmed by major life changes and a course load that would intimidate Lewis Skolnick and Gilbert Lowe, it would have been nice if there had been some kind of decoder ring that could tell me when my advances were desired, and when “no” actually meant “no”.  Because it didn’t always.

Wait!  Before you unfollow our blog in disgust, hear me out.  Yes, we’ve all heard the anti-date rape ad campaigns insisting that no always means no.  And for the record, I always understood the meaning of the word, and I always respected it.  When I got a “no”, whether sheepish and half-hearted or decisive and firm, that was the end of it.  It never even occurred to me that the woman I was with might not have meant it.

However, I can vividly recall three occasions in college where a woman asked me after the fact why I stopped.  Once it was on the phone after I got home.  Once it was the next day.  Once it was a month or more later.  Why did I stop?  Because you told me no!  It’s frustrating to find out that you missed out on sex because you couldn’t read a signal, although as far as signals go, “no” always seemed pretty definite to me.

It’s for this reason that I’ve never been particularly fond of game-playing in the context of a dating relationship.  I’m aware of my own feelings, I respect them, and I don’t see the point of conforming to some arbitrary standard of behavior imposed by society at large.  Additionally, I value honesty over all else.  Even when it’s yielded things I couldn’t have expected or didn’t want to hear, I’ve always appreciated it.

I should point out that, with a handful of exceptions, the women I dated when I was single were the type who expected the man to initiate sex.  As the author of the article states,

Women (even sex positive feminists like me) are socially programmed not to want it, and not to ask for it. Taking personal responsibility for crossing that line into sex – the irreversible line that can make everything potentially weird and confusing – is terrifying, yet empowering. 

Because of this reluctance, there is sometimes an increased pressure on males to successfully traverse the uncertainty and get the job done.  In my opinion this is an unfair case of “damned if you do, damned if you don’t”.  As a proactive male with dominant leanings who would nonetheless never dream of inflicting himself on a possibly non-consenting partner, this presents problems.

Telling the story of a date with an overly consent-oriented male, the author describes feelings of frustration over her date’s unwillingness to initiate physical contact without explicit consent:

This pattern continued as the night progressed. Long past the point that your average straight man would have made a crotch grab, he demurred. I was actually starting to become frustrated. 

I understand that some people are excited by a partner who takes charge.  I also understand that for some women especially, it is considered improper to possess and act on sexual agency.  Ultimately, I think it comes down to honesty.  We are all sexual beings, whether we want to admit it or not.  We all have sexual wants and needs.  If we could simply be comfortable with and honest about this, I think it would make for a much more sexually-harmonious society.

-Jack

This post was sponsored by EdenFantasys.