Consent Is Not A Whim

I tenderly kiss their collarbone and let my mouth travel up their neck all the way to their ear. The cocktail of emotions that surfaces in my chest resembles the kind you feel on Christmas mornings as a child. My lungs fill with their scent, my heart swells with joy, my fingertips twitch in anticipation, and my stomach twists with excitement.

However, after a while, their moans quiet down, their movements lose momentum, and their gaze deviates from mine. Their entire body seems to contrast with my enthusiasm. Maybe I’m not doing such a good job. If I redoubled my efforts, maybe I could turn them on like before. Just maybe. Nonetheless, the cloud of doubt hanging over their desire casts a shadow over my own.

Here, we can choose one of two options:

One thing’s for sure: if we choose option A, we’ll most likely struggle to experience pleasure. Indeed, we are far from having a good time when we doubt that desire is mutual or when we have the impression that our partner would much rather be doing anything else than kiss us or have sex with us. Our pleasure then gives way to not-so-erotic emotions like disappointment, anxiety, confusion, and even loneliness.

Do we prefer to simply imagine that our partner is experiencing pleasure rather than being sure of it? Do we prefer to avoid checking in with our partner to avoid the possibility of a frank rejection or an awkward discussion? Do we really prefer our partner to fake their consent and pleasure rather than risk seeing our ego take a hit? In any case, continuing sexual activity when we doubt our partner’s desire amounts to ignoring their (non-)consent.

What is consent?

According to section 273.1 of the Criminal Code of Canada, sexual consent is the voluntary and continuous agreement to engage in sexual activity that has been agreed to without the influence of force, threats, fear, fraud, or abuse of power. It’s a very simple definition of consent, which addresses its ethical side.

It’s from this very perspective that many people talk about consent: in ethical terms or as the “right thing” for which to ask. Consent is often approached as an “agreement” or “permission” to be secured, ultimately with the goal of avoiding getting into trouble.

However, the raison d’être of sexual consent is not simply to legitimize our actions vis-à-vis our partner. It’s not just a request to access their body. Sexual consent is not passive. After all, if a person is only granting us permission to engage in sexual activity with them, that doesn’t mean that they’ll be participating, that there will be a sexual relation.

What if we talked about consent more in terms of something arousing to witness and as an indication that the sexual activity is a shared experience?

A partner’s consent is important not to avoid getting into trouble but because we deeply want our partner to feel good and have fun in our company. Genuine consent is paramount to our own sexual pleasure.

How do we communicate consent?

Beyond a simple “agreement” to engage in sexual activity, communicating consent is to convey signs of sexual interest and pleasure. In this way, it’s part of sexual communication more broadly. Although we often talk about consent in terms of verbal communication, it’s actually not the most popular way to convey consent—whether in real life, in movies, on television, or in pornography (Jozkowski et al., 2019; Shumlich et Fisher, 2018; Willis et al., 2020) —because many find it awkward, unrealistic, or “unnatural”Curtis et Burnett, 2017).

Most of the time, to let our partner know that we want to have sex with them or that we enjoy—that we consent to—what is happening between the sheets (or in the backseat of a car— wherever!), we give them signs of pleasure, in the same way that we smile or make sounds of delight to convey that we love what we’re eating (whether on a plate or between two thighs!) (Beres, 2010; Séguin, 2022);). for example, by giving a sexy look, moaning in pleasure, moving closer, panting, and much more. There is nothing more erotic than seeing and feeling that our partner is really into it.

On the other hand, to communicate our non-consent, whether consciously or not, we tend to express signs of dissatisfaction, fear, pain, disgust, discomfort, or boredom through body language (Beres, 2010; Séguin, 2022). Not so sexy, right?

Sex is a shared experience in which we can find, among other things, pleasure, comfort, and complicity, and in which we feel free to participate and contribute. A lack of consent negates these purposes. A non-consenting person is someone who endures our touch, kisses, and bodies. It’s therefore someone who, in that given moment, is not experiencing pleasure or connection and is not feeling our affection. There are plenty of reasons not to feel ready or available to share a sexual experience with someone, and no one should be put in a position to simply submit to one.

Consent is therefore far from being a mere whim: it makes all the difference between a pleasant —passionate, even—sexual encounter and an alienating and unrequited experience, that is to say, a sexual assault.

Asking for consent: a turn-off?

With this in mind, knowing how to read and interpret body language is essential. It is critical not to ignore what our partner is expressing. That said, for our partner to feel safe to express themselves freely and authentically, we need to not react to their non-consent as though we interpret it as rejection, criticism, or as a reproach (Séguin, 2022). We can say something like:

“It’s 100% okay if you don’t feel like it. I’d much rather you tell me. That way, I know that when we do have sex together, we both really want it at that moment. Besides, it makes sex way more fun for everyone. Would you like to just cuddle and watch a movie instead?”

It’s only when our partner feels truly safe to say “no” that we can trust their “yeses” (Merwin & Rosen, 2019).

Moreover, the more intimately we know someone, the easier it becomes to read their body language and correctly infer their consent (or non-consent). However, when there’s even the slightest shadow of a doubt, it’s always a good idea to verbally ask for our partner’s consent, just to make sure. In need of inspiration? It could look like this:

“Are you okay? Do you want us to keep going?”

“Is everything alright? We can take a break, if you want.”

“Is something wrong? It’s okay if you’d rather we do something else. No pressure.”

A whim is a sudden, thoughtless urge, subject to change from one moment to another. It is the child who throws a tantrum over not having obtained the object of their desire. We mustn’t be afraid to “kill the mood” with our questions because wanting our partner’s consent is not a whim. It’s just the normal, benevolent thing to do to ensure that what is about to happen (or what is happening) is genuinely desired by everyone involved. On the contrary, it would be capricious to insist after someone says “No.” If just taking the time to make sure our partner is okay and is having fun kills the vibe, then… maybe the vibe wasn’t so good in the first place?