Reading the Babe article on a woman’s encounter with Aziz Ansari was eerily familiar to me. I vividly recall having conversations with friends of mine, recounting times I hooked up with someone and my boundaries were pushed. I remember being uncertain whether or not it constituted a lack of consent if I eventually agreed to something after saying no. Consent seems so straightforward in theory, but in practice, it’s a lot more nuanced. If I push someone’s hand away from a part of my body while we’re hooking up and don’t push it away again later, does that mean I consent to it, even if I’m not totally comfortable with it? Even if I said no earlier? I’m really not sure. Reading about how the woman felt after the encounter with Ansari was unsettling; I know that strange blend of emotions intimately. I recognize in some of my past experiences feeling uncomfortable in my own body afterwards and wanting to hide. There have been times when I took a shower as soon as I got home because I felt gross, and not because of sweat or makeup. I know what it’s like to talk to a friend after an encounter gone wrong and telling them how weirdly ashamed I felt about it, like I could have just agreed to do what the other person wanted and avoided feeling this way. On more than one occasion, I’ve told someone that I wasn’t comfortable with something they were doing and made them stop, but when they did it again later, I let them because it was easier than saying no again. Does that constitute a lack of consent? I’m not sure, honestly. I really don’t know. If they hadn’t stopped when I told them to, of course, that would be a lack of consent, but they did stop when I told them to. But since I let them do it the next time, if I didn’t say no but still felt uncomfortable, does that mean I didn’t technically consent?
When you hook up with someone, you’re responsible for letting them know how you feel, and I recognize that a lack of communication often leads to misinterpretation. They’re not a mind reader (assuming they don’t practice telepathy or the art of Legilimency), so they won’t know what’s on your mind if you don’t tell them. However, they’re also responsible for paying attention to your verbal and nonverbal cues, and they should make sure both parties consent to what’s happening. Everyone has the responsibility to respect both their own boundaries and those of others, but it gets tricky when in situations like the one with Ansari, where he stopped when she told him to but tried again later. I honestly don’t have an answer for this, and I don’t know if I ever will. All I know is how I feel after an encounter like that, which is usually gross and uncomfortable in my own body. It’s difficult to leave that sort of situation, where you want to spend time with the other person but they have a different idea of how that time should be spent. In the past, I’ve ignored my own comfort level to spend time with someone, and I know that needs to end.
Starting now, I need to listen to myself and how I feel, and if I’m not 100% comfortable doing something, then I shouldn’t be doing it. If that means leaving the situation, so be it, and if someone loses respect for or interest in me because I leave, they’re probably not someone I should want to be around anyway.
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under Creative Commons.