lightcastle

(If you don't consider that title a trigger warning, I am not sure what more I can do here.)

In the light of the Assange case, there's a bunch of posts and links I've been sitting on that I'm going to dump here. Some go back a few months, they aren't in any way limited to Assange. I don't have much more to say on that, personally, so I will pass it over to Sady Doyle and Jacyln Friedman, who pretty much cover it for me.

Of course, much of the issue with the Assange case, among others, concern the attitude so many have about what *is* considered an appropriate level of consent, such as seen in this recent study from the UK on attitudes about rape and consent. Note, however, it is unclear whether or not this was random. It looks like it might just be a volunteer online survey, in which case it is pretty worthless. I really can't pin down the methodology. Some of the results were surprising to me, like the high percentage of people who don't think that a "Yes" from their partner actually means "yes".

That brings me to an old post from this summer on Consent and coming out. It touches on the fact that you might intellectually be aware that "Knowing your preferences and your limits is an important part of having a satisfying sex life." but that if you aren't acknowledging what your real desires are, that isn't helping, since you are probably convincing yourself to do things you don't actually want.

My boyfriend and I did have sex, and it was something I had convinced myself (dishonestly) that I wanted. I had bought into the idea that I was supposed to want to have sex with my boyfriend, even when I could tell that I was not truly interested. The sex was not terrible or selfish on his part, but my interest only seemed to hold for a very brief time. This created a situation in which I rarely initiated sex. It also meant that enthusiastic consent was not something that was practiced in our relationship.

I'm not sure she's using "enthusiastic" in that unfortunate way people do where instead of meaning "active consent" it means something more like "must be totally mind-blowingly positive about it" - which I don't think is quite what the term was originally supposed to be. Nonetheless, the core of that paragraph resonates a lot for me, as it is something my personal history has taught me to be constantly worried about. (Which is kind of exhausting.) It also plays in, I think, to the "yes doesn't necessarily mean yes" thing.

So to balance that out, we go to the more positive side of things, a quick-start guide on How to Fuck for those without time to RTFM. (Overlaps somewhat with the "How not to be an asshole to someone you are having sex with" guide I posted earlier.)

Clarisse Thorn proposed her fantasy sex-positive, anti-abuse program.

While this isn't that, Mick Foley has been leveraging his privilege for good about this for a while now.

Meanwhile, in Edmonton, an anti-rape campaign that actually focuses on the men.

Mostly from the often-interesting Yes Means Yes blog, a couple of discussions about consent.

Firstly, the nature of "nebulous consent". To quote Thomas using a kink example:

But let’s take the “asking for it” bit to its logical conclusion. Let’s say I meet a top in at a play party and we talk about what she wants to do, and then she ties my hands to a St. Andrew’s Cross and … what? What exactly have I consented to?

If you said, “whatever you two agreed to, and not whatever you two have not agreed to” they you have it right. Anyone with a different answer needs a remedial class in consent.

It goes on that this "agreed to" can be very specific or quite broad, and isn't always verbalized (but often needs quick adjustments if an unverbalized assumption turns out to be wrong).

It's an interesting piece, because consent is rarely negotiated in an academically explicit manner, but is something that is actively involved and evolved amongst the people involved.

The second, and more personally-affecting one involves the concept of mismatched sex drives and "compromising". (It is also up at Feministe. If you like comment threads, both are interesting.)

That post came out of a piece on alternet called 6 Things to Try If You Want Sex More Than Your Partner Does.

Having been on both sides of that fence (although only once toxically), I know the struggle that can be. It touches on huge issues of feeling accepted, loved, and desired. In the cases where it has been ok, there's been a way to talk about the mutual desire to still be in the relationship and the desire for the person, even when it isn't expressed physically. But even then it's hard.

This speaks to me:

n the relationship I’m thinking of, I felt constantly rejected, like I wasn’t sexually desirable (which played into a lot of body image and performance issues for me), and like my desire was a problem. Like every time I felt sexual want, I felt an immediate internal response: oh, no! Please go away. It’s not the most healthy way to relate to your sexuality, let me tell you.

On the other hand, my partner told me he felt constantly pressured, which made him want sex even less. Which? I totally get. If you don’t feel like you can freely decide, if you feel like someone else’s desire is more important or more overwhelming than your own, it’s not a very sexy feeling, is it?

Jaclyn takes issue with the idea of scheduling sex and compromise, saying they deft enthusiastic consent. (A term, incidentally, I've grown to dislike, as people have gotten very hung up on "enthusiasm" as a descriptor, interpreting it as a demand for jumping up and down rah-rah activism. I have shifted to "active consent" personally, rather than the "tacit consent" our culture so often glorifies.)

I do think compromise can be deeply problematic, especially when it so easily slides into pressure to do something you don't want to. "I only did it because it seemed important to you" is a horrible thing to hear. (Believe me I know.) Of course, that's not hard and fast - "I did it because you like it so much, even if it's not a big deal for me" seems very different in some ways.

As for scheduling sex, that seems a very couple-specific answer. Some will find that turning into more pressure and resentment, others will find it an excuse to both engage in finding time and space to appreciate each other. I think it depends a lot on the particular relationship and sexual dynamics involved.

Ultimately, I think I have to turn to much-ado about this, and her many discussions on "buy-in" for the relationship. If you are both enthusiastic about the relationship, it strikes me there are ways to get around the mismatch with communication and kindness.