Living in a Culture of Consent

Image courtesy of Spread the Health

This past weekend, a man killed several people, both men and women, because he was angry no one had ever "given him" sex. (I am not using his name because I have no desire to elevate him to a celebrity for his actions.) This event sparked a tremendous Twitter trend, #YesAllWomen, by which women shared their stories of rape, abuse, and harassment. Feminists shouted. People who had not been feminists became feminists. People cried, and railed, and gnashed their teeth. "We hate this culture," they declared, "but what can we do?"

While this was all going on, I was blissfully unaware, spending my time out of phone and wifi range at a regional burn, similar to Burning Man. I experienced firsthand what it's like to live in consent culture, and I want you to know about it.

The night of the effigy burn, emotions ran high. It was difficult not to feel a deep and abiding love, not only for your closest friends and relatives, but for everyone you met who was part of your experience. Hugging was, well, inevitable.

And yet, for my group at least, consent was consistently requested and given. Friends for years, some spanning decades, asked, "Hug?" before embracing their loved ones. Some felt the desire to be closer, and asked, "May I kiss you?" Even those who had done these things before, even those who had dated, lived together, had sex, etc. Everyone got consent. I was blown away by the beauty of it.

Later that night, I was having sex with my boyfriend in a public place (at a private event, mind you, this was still a legal action). A crowd formed around us, and many people wished to join. My boyfriend and I, however, didn't want anyone else to be inside our experience. These people as well, strangers to us, asked before touching, and respected our denial of consent. One person even asked, "May I watch you from here?" while sitting too close for comfort. He, too, respected our wish to have some space when we told him we'd prefer if he moved a bit farther away.

All of these people, strangers and friends alike, understood when and how to obtain consent, and how to accept the denial of consent. This is consent culture. How, you may wonder, did it come about?

First, we demystified sex. Sex is not the most defining human experience. It is not a goal, but an act. It can be deeply meaningful and emotional, but it need not be. We believe and practice this, encouraging sexual expression, discouraging myths about "purity," and refusing to engage in shaming over someone else's sexual choices. Sex is a thing people do, like eating and sleeping. We recognize that we all do it, so it really can't be that special. When we make it another part of the human experience, rather than the greatest part, we remove the taboo about it so that we can actually talk about it.

Second, we repeatedly discuss personal boundaries and consent. We praise each other for setting good boundaries ("I don't really like hugs; would you like a handshake instead?" "Of course! Thanks for making that clear.") and for obtaining consent before crossing someone else's boundaries ("I would love a hug; thank you for asking!). When someone does violate boundaries (yes, it happens, we're not perfect) we go over why their behavior was unacceptable and how they can change it in the future. We discuss consent and boundaries with the children of our community, so that they understand how to respect them long before they become sexually active.

We intervene when we see someone violate a boundary, even if it isn't ours. "Hey, I know you're friends, but you really need to ask before you pick her up like that." When people respond by saying that it's okay and they do this all the time, we remind them that others see the example they're setting and follow it, and modeling consent is a practice we want to encourage. We don't take offense when someone points out our mistakes about consent, even when it's a stranger.

We communicate. Every action I've mentioned above is an act of communication. Discussing boundaries, asking for consent, calling out nonconsensual behavior, educating each other—these are all about communication. Talking with each other about sex and personal agency is the only way to change the culture.

Also, you will notice I've included hugging, kissing, and other forms of touching in this conversation about consent. Consent, remarkably, is not about sex. It is about personal agency and having control over what happens to your body. Consent for a hug is just as important as consent for sex. A culture of consent focuses on each individual having total say in what happens to their body at all times, not just when clothes come off.

Consent culture is learned. I may seem like a guru now, well versed in requesting and giving consent, but only three years ago I failed to realize I had been raped. I didn't understand consent well enough to recognize that my lack of consent meant the sex people forced on me was rape. I had to learn what consent was, how to ask for it, and how to give it, how to deny it, and how to accept denial of consent, just like anyone else. I learned these things in my thirties. It's never too late.

If I can learn this much about consent in this little time, imagine what we can do together! Let's stop wringing our hands and wishing the world were better, and start actually making it so.

Talk to each other. Practice giving and receiving consent. Recognize your mistakes and apologize for them. Explain consent and agency to your children, and praise them when you see them practice it. Take no offense when consent is denied to you. Thank those who obtain your consent before touching you.

I've written a lot on this blog about consent. Please read it. Please practice it. Please ask if you don't understand.

This is how we move forward. This is how we change.

How to Give a Great Blowjob

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My Return to Being Awkward

Photo courtesy of Trevor Williams

An interesting effect of having been involved in relationships that consumed absolutely all of my attention for the past two years is that I seem to have completely lost my ability to flirt properly.

I think (although I'm uncertain) that I can initiate a flirtation moderately well. I don't really do this, though. I seem not to have enough time and motivation to make it happen.

However, when someone attractive flirts with me, I get completely flustered and awkward, and at best mumble and leave quickly.

This is so totally unlike me I can't understand how it came about, nor what to do about it.

Case in point: Sunday night I met up with a group of friends to share food and conversation and to watch a movie. This is a weekly occurrence for many of us, but we were joined by some friends who come less regularly. Among these is someone I admit I have a bit of a crush on. This guy is quite gorgeous, smart, kind, and fun to be around. So when, at the end of the evening, he gave me a long hug and mentioned it would be fun if we could get together sometime, I, of course, replied with a sparklingly witty, adorable, inviting remark.

No, wait. I didn't. That's what I wish I did. I actually kind of awkwardly mumbled something and left.

This isn't even the first time I have totally flubbed a golden situation with this man. I know he wouldn't be cruel to me, even if he rejected me, so what in the world is my problem? Why can't I be even a tiny bit charming and adorable when he talks to me?

He's not the only one. There have been a handful of times over the past year or so I have watched the perfect moment sail right by me, and thought to myself (sometimes only moments later), "That was absolutely my chance. If only I'd said something witty and sweet."

But I don't. I mumble and look at my feet and, if I'm lucky, manage to giggle.

I can only hope I will be presented with enough opportunities to brush up my skills.

Is this what people mean when they say they've lost their mojo?

The Stress Relief Girlfriend

Photo courtesy of Ciaran McGuiggan

I have discovered I play a specific role in one of my relationships.

I practice solo polyamory. That is, I don't live with my partners, share finances with them, have children or shared business interests with them. Some would call me "single," but I don't feel this fits me particularly well, as I have been in loving, committed relationships for nearly two years now.

The benefit of this (aside from the many benefits I gain from not having my boundaries infringed) is that date time really is Date Time. My partners and I have to schedule time together specifically. We don't end up having time together accidentally, and we never slip into the habit of doing things independently but in the same room with each other. Our dates occupy time we've set aside to spend together, and I really like that.

One of my boyfriends, Rusty, shares a home, finances, and business with another partner. I also gather (although I could be wrong) that he often serves as a sort of caretaker for her: bringing meals and medicine when she doesn't feel well, doing dishes and laundry, seeing to many of her everyday needs.

Most of the time this doesn't affect me much, but sometimes, like now, when he's under great stress, I become The Stress Relief Girlfriend. He arrives for dates mentally and emotionally drained, and requests we do things to take his mind off his stress.

I am often happy to fulfill this role. After all, being The Stress Relief Girlfriend involves a lot of sex and video games, our favorite pastimes.

But, being the only resident in my home (and owner of two adorable but high-maintenance cats), I still have to do my laundry, and take out my trash, and wash my dishes, and clean my cats' litter box. And all last week I was ill, and (through no fault of Rusty's) ended up spending several days home alone, feeling generally miserable and a bit sorry for myself.

It can be difficult, when my own stress piles up, to be The Stress Relief Girlfriend. I like that Rusty thinks of me like this; that he considers time with me the enjoyable escape from responsibility and tedium (not that his other partner is tedious, mind you, just that they share the tedium of work and daily life). I enjoy being able to give him this escape, to be where he turns to feel better.

But I won't deny that sometimes it's not very easy. When he wants a relaxing night away from stress but I have chores to do and cats to feed and errands to run and all my own stress of the day or week, I find myself rushing through my own responsibilities or delaying doing them in order to take care of his needs.

Although I'm sure this sort of dynamic exists within monogamous relationships, I never really saw it as transparently as I see it now. I feel I have this role to play, the free-wheeling, fun-loving girlfriend who is always ready for a good time and happy to provide a place to relax and recharge. Sometimes that role fits better than other times.

I'm not complaining, exactly, and I don't feel this is a situation that needs to be fixed. It's simply not something I encountered before I was in polyamorous relationships. I suppose I am remarking on its existence, and wondering whether anyone else feels this happens in their relationships as well.

On Phil Robertson and What the Bible Says

Image courtesy of Us Magazine

This week, A&E suspended Phil Robertson, star of Duck Dynasty, from the show, following remarks he made about homosexuality. Fans have responded with outrage, although some fans applaud A&E's decision.

So I want to speak directly to those Christians who think the following: first, that Robertson's right to free speech is under attack, and second, that he is being persecuted for his religious beliefs. I know there are many of you. I hope you'll hear me out.

To the first point: freedom of speech. The American Constitution guarantees citizens the right to say whatever they like (within certain limits) without fearing prosecution or imprisonment. That's it. Robertson hasn't been arrested; there's no discussion of taking him to court. The protected right to freedom of speech doesn't at all mean you will face no consequences or judgment for what you say. It doesn't mean others won't condemn you, or that you won't be held accountable for your words. It just means you won't go to jail. So, no, Robertson's freedom of speech is under no threat.

As for the second point: Robertson is not expressing a belief outlined in the Bible. At least, not one consistent with the entire text.

Yes, the Bible does say that it is "detestable" for a man to "lie with a man as [he] does with a woman." (Leviticus 18:22) But that same chapter also has quite a bit else to say, which most Christians seem to have no problem with. The Bible instructs Christians not to eat "unclean" animals, which includes pigs (Leviticus 11:7-8). It also warns against wearing "clothing woven of two kinds of material" (Leviticus 19:19) and having tattoos (Leviticus 19:28).

Getting a bit tricky, isn't it?

Christians all over the U.S. spout bigotry, as Robertson did, in the name of their faith, claiming to be clinging to religious beliefs. Yet many of these same people watch football at least once a week, where players from both teams wear uniforms made of Spandex, a blend of natural and synthetic materials. Lots of these folks order pizzas to enjoy while they watch their sport, eating sausage and bacon, made of pigs. A few of them even get images representing their beliefs inked on their bodies. Wow, what sinners!

The entire list of things you shouldn't do is quite long, actually, and most of us violate them on a fairly regular basis. So really, unless you're spewing as much vitriol about people frying up bacon and eggs for breakfast as you are about them having gay sex, you're cherry-picking the bits of the Bible you want to uphold in order to justify your bigotry.

All of this ignores the entire point of Jesus. I'm not Christian now, but I once was, and as I understand it, Jesus existed only to make sure you're still okay if you do all the stuff God said not to do. You can stop burning your offerings and paying penance because Jesus did the hard part for you. All you have to do is apologize. This, and only this, separates Christianity from Judaism. The Christian messiah has arrived. There is no more need for atonement of sin. Christians are saved. They are forgiven. Even if they keep sinning, which the Bible guarantees they will do, they are still forgiven if they believe Jesus is the son of God.

The things Jesus really told Christians to do were to love each other (John 13:34-35). Not "tell each other how bad they are and how they're sinning." (It's actually pretty explicit about that part, that whole "judge not let ye be judged" in Matthew 7:1.)

Jesus himself kept much closer company with the worst of the sinners than with the highest of the clergy. He surrounded himself not with the most righteous and holy people, but with those society had shunned for their sin (Luke 7:36-50, Luke 19:1-10, Mark 2:13-17). His message was one of love and compassion, not of judgment and condemnation. He practiced unconditional love, and told his followers to do the same. Indeed, to stand out from followers of other religions, they were to love more, not less. They were to love not just each other, but absolutely everyone (Matthew 5:43-48).

Jesus' message was abundantly clear. Love each other, without condition, without question. A person's sins determine nothing about their value. All people are worthy of God's love, and Christians are called to mirror that love, to show compassion for others. "Love the sinner; hate the sin" does not mean "tell the sinner why they're doomed and try to convince them to change."

Other people's sins are simply not your business. Let them speak to God on their own about their struggles. It's not your place to intervene on God's behalf.

If you truly hold Christian beliefs, what you should say to gay people is, "I love you." You should say, "You are welcome in my home. No one here will judge you." Not only will you be doing as Jesus commanded, you will connect with those you love. You may even bring them into your faith. Isn't that what you really want?

Have Sex on the First Date If You Want to, Obviously

Photo by Kena Sen

This blog post is called "Why You Should Always Have Sex on a First Date."

My answer: because you want to. That's pretty much the only answer that matters. And for that to work, you have to strike the "always" from the title, because I have certainly been on first dates where I had absolutely no desire to have a second date, much less fuck the person.

But let's pick it apart, shall we?

Sexually Compatible

Trophy Wife (that's the author, for those of you who aren't clicking through the link) says it's important to establish sexual compatibility on the first date so you can "get the fuck out of there" if your date has a weird fetish like plushophilia (completely ignoring the fact that the reader may, in fact, have this fetish).

Well, first of all, sexual compatibility is far less about sharing the same fetishes and far more about having roughly equal desires and levels of comfort with experimentation. It's also a little bit about an indefinable "chemistry" or some intangible thing that I've never quite been able to nail down.

And knowing whether your sex drives are similar, whether you enjoy similar positions, whether you read each other's cues well...that takes time. It doesn't matter if you have sex on the first date, you're going to have to do it again and again and again before you can determine if you really will fuck amazingly well together.

And if you don't share the same fetishes? Oh well. I'm sure your date will be fine if you don't indulge their quirky kinks, especially if you don't mind them finding other partners who do.

Maybe you're going to discover that you really don't mesh well in bed and sex for the two of you will probably never be great. But why is this vital to learn before going on another date or two? Were you having such little fun with this person you can't stand being in their presence unless it ends in a wildly pleasurable fuck? I dunno about you, but I don't really want to take those people to bed in the first place.

Penis Size

Okay, just shut up. This isn't middle school. The size of a man's penis doesn't really matter. If it's too small, he can use his mouth or fingers instead. If it's too big...he can use his mouth or fingers instead. This really isn't an issue.

Also, welcome to 20fucking13, where some people date women. Some women even do this. Shocking, I know. Trophy Wife is laughably oblivious.

Avoids Awkwardness

Trophy Wife thinks sexual tension makes things awkward. I think it makes things hot. I know I'm not alone in this; TV shows have been continually failing to let their costars hook up for years so they can draw the sexual tension out and create endless "will they/won't they" scenes.

Those first, tentative moments of wondering whether that look means something, of discovering yes, it really is okay to put my hand there, of those nearly electric sparks that pass between you when your bodies get close? You will never get those back. Savor that shit. Enjoy it.

The real kicker in this bit is this line: "Not sure about who is going to pay the check? Feel free to push that bill right over to him because, guess what? You sucked his dick last week. He can at least pay for dinner."

What the actual fuck? Presumably you didn't suck his dick as part of a business transaction (by the way, if you did, we don't really call that dating). Also, I expect he probably did some nice things for you too. Let him pick up the check if he offers and you want him to, but don't pretend you deserve dinner because he got sex. You got sex too.

And again, Trophy Wife seems to have forgotten all about lesbians. Who picks up the check when no dicks got sucked?

Investment of Time

To Trophy Wife, dating is only worthwhile if it's leading to something more. Apparently, sex is a gauge of this somehow. Never mind that you can't really tell that much from sex about compatibility about anything except sex. I have been with some people who were fantastic in bed and were downright awful as boyfriends. Plus, two or three dates doesn't seem to be much of an investment, but maybe that's just me.

The only time she really nails it is when she says, "If it feels right, do it."

That's all you need, really. If you're on a first date, and you want to have sex, and they want to have sex, go right ahead. Enjoy yourselves. Don't feel guilty afterward; you've done nothing wrong.

But don't let this woman lead you into believing you're doing dating wrong if you're not fucking everyone you want to have a second date with.

Personally, I fucked my boyfriend Ryder on the first date, and it was awesome, and I really wanted to keep seeing him for that and a pile of other reasons (like having multiple shared interests, and he made me laugh, and we had similar outlooks, and I had a great time being with him). And I went on something like twenty dates with my boyfriend Rusty before we had sex, and I still found out that we were compatible in multiple ways, and he was kind and generous, and he makes me laugh, and I have a great time being with him. Also, we have great sex.

So, wow, relationships can go really, really well if you have sex on the first date. Also, they can go really, really well if you don't have sex for many, many dates. They can be a shitstorm of hideousness that no amount of good sex can save, and they can be just sort of not exactly right but wow was the sex hot.

Sex isn't a gauge. It isn't a checkbox. It isn't a favor or an obstacle. It's just itself, and the best reason to have it is because you want it.

So yeah. Have sex on first dates if you're both into it. Or don't. It's okay to wait if you're not sure. It's okay to wait if you really, really want it but your date doesn't. It's okay to wait if both of you really, really want it but you're shy and awkward and that would make things difficult for you. Or if you just want to draw out that buildup and make your first time incredible.

There aren't rules to this stuff. And if you take advice from someone who tells you it's important to know the size of your date's dick so you can determine if he's worth your time...well, don't expect brilliant results.

I Don't Have an Open Relationship

I guess it's time for me to get all worked up again.

This shit pisses me off.

Yes, on the one hand, it's good to start discourse about ethical nonmonogamy. I like that the author mentions several well-known folks who have hinted at or outright declared being nonmonogamous. We have to keep talking about it if anyone is to know it exists.

But.

The whole article talks about being in an open relationship or an open marriage. As if you still only get one relationship, and everything else is just some sort of bonus door prize.

It's still all about the idea of the couple and what they do. It's not "Will Smith has open relationships" or "Jada Pinkett-Smith has open relationships." (To be fair, they did say this of Dolly Parton, but I assume that's only because none of her partners are famous.) It seems as though none of Will's or Jada's other partners matter.

I take personal offense at this. It takes kind of a lot to offend me, so kudos are probably in order. Good job. You, Tricia Romano, managed to actually infuriate me. Enough to write a whole blog post about it, even.

I'm offended because I will never be part of the "couple" who has "an open relationship." This simply isn't possible for me. The way I began having ethically nonmonogamous relationships was by meeting (and subsequently falling in love with) two truly amazing people at the same time, both of whom were already nonmonogamous and in other relationships.

Ryder is married and lives with his wife. He has another long-distance partner, and had a second long-distance partner when I met him. Rusty lives with his girlfriend and was dating another person (maybe two, depending on how you count it) when we met.

I never "opened" my relationship with someone. I didn't start a monogamous relationship and decide to see other people too. I met two amazing men and we entwined our lives together.

This, I think, is the fundamental misunderstanding many monogamous people have about the rest of us. We don't do this as couples. We're people making our own independent choices about who we share our lives with. We ensure the people we do this with are comfortable with us sharing our lives and love and beds with people other than them. We don't act as couples, we act as individuals. We make our choices based on treating each other with dignity and respect.

From a perspective like that author's, I am a hobby, a side-quest, a supporting cast member in the lives of two people in an open relationship. I am what they do on the side. I am the extra lover. I am the "whatever he wants."

No. Fuck that. I am a whole person, and I matter just as much as anyone else. As much as I would never wish my metamours (my boyfriends' other partners) would be viewed as "the other women my boyfriend dates," I don't want to be that either. None of us are "others." We are a family, intricately, complexly linked via multiple bonds of love and trust.

And it's not like we don't participate in each other's lives. While I'm sure there are people who don't involve themselves in their partners' other relationships at all, I can't imagine living that way. I feel deeply connected not just to the people I love, but to the people they love, and the people those people love, etc. Our network stretches broadly, and all those folks are my family.

Actually, family is a good analogy, now that I think of it. I've mentioned before the idea of loving more than one child at a time as an illustration of how you can love more than one person simultaneously. Saying someone is in an open relationship is like saying someone has an open parent. It's like calling your brother "my mother's other son." Or saying that Jo and Beth had "other sisters."

So I say, to the journalists who think it would be cool to write about some celebrity couple's "open relationship": consider that the other people involved with those folks are people too. Consider that we have our own feelings and needs and wants and we all deserve to be treated with decency and respect. Consider how you would feel if you were relegated to the role of someone's "other" relationship. Yeah, we don't like it either.