Hot Tip: Enthusiastic Consent Isn’t That Hard

What with the barrage of rape cases flooding through our media outlets at the moment, a lot of people are talking about what it means to consent to sex.

You may have heard of one of the sex-positive responses to the question “How do I avoid raping someone?” – the idea of enthusiastic consent. In short, it means that no always means no, and only yes means yes.

Many of us have signed on to this agreement. I find it really sexy to imagine a world in which everyone “checks in” before progressing sexually. It’s hot to have sexy things done to me, but it’s even hotter (in my humble opinion) to have someone respect me enough to ask for permission first.

But, predictably, there has been a lot of pushback in the wake of this idea. “What, am I supposed to ask every time I do anything sexual?!” these protesters cry. “What if we’re already in a relationship and I know my partner’s body language well enough that I don’t have to ask?” And my favorite: “But asking for consent is so INCONVENIENT and AWKWARD and HARD!”

I’m not going to tell you how to negotiate consent within your own relationship, because obviously, that’s a personal thing. If your partner is really okay with you never explicitly asking for consent, that’s fine, as long as you still know you have to stop when you’re told to. But let’s get something straight: asking for consent does not have to be awkward or difficult.

You do not have to engineer a wordy question like, “Do you consent to me touching your vulva?” You can literally just say, “Is this okay?” or “Do you want me to stop?” or “Should I keep going?”

Some people have a Dominant/submissive relationship. Most people do not. And if you and your partner are equals in and out of the bedroom, acquiring verbal consent on a case-by-case basis really should not be a big deal. You respect your lover and you want them to feel free to express their feelings, right?

On the flipside, if you want your partner to ask for consent every time, that’s an absolutely fair request to make. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Our culture has a contempt toward consent. If this wasn’t the case, no one would be crying that asking for consent is “too much work.” Respecting your sexual partner’s body and mind is never “too much work,” and if you really feel that it is, you’re not ready to be in a sexual relationship.

Bonus reading:
Shakesville: Today in Rape Culture
Yes Means Yes
Scarleteen discussion: enthusiastic consent
Persephone Magazine: Why Do People Hate the Concept of Enthusiastic Consent?

Ask Girly Juice: Help! My Partner Hates That I Watch Porn!

Anonymous asked: I have a problem… I watch porn from time to time and I enjoy it, but it makes my girlfriend really uncomfortable. She says it makes her feel like she’s not good enough. What can I do?

This is a really common problem, and I think it stems mostly from the cultural narrative that tells women we’re only valuable for our appearance and our sexuality. A woman who’s internalized that line of thinking is obviously going to believe that she’s essentially useless if porn is in the picture – because porn provides something sexy to look at, which our culture tells us is a woman’s purpose.

But as you know, women are almost always worth so much more than that to their partners. No one really wants to be in a relationship with a video or a picture. You can’t cuddle with on-screen porn stars, or exchange sentiments of love. Hell, you can’t even feel a porn star’s touch. It’s a completely different and separate experience from actually being with someone; the two fulfill different and separate sets of needs.

A common suggestion for people whose partners are distrustful of porn is that the two of you should watch porn together. I can see many ways this could backfire, though. Some women genuinely find porn distressing to watch, which is an issue best solved with a therapist and not a porn marathon.

She may be in need of validation, and that’s perfectly okay. Make sure you’re telling her often enough just how great she is – how sexy you think she is, how much you enjoy the sex you have with her, how beautiful her body is, and so on. Work to counteract her insecurities.

Ask her if there’s anything you can do to make her feel more loved, appreciated, and attractive. (Aside from “stop watching porn.”)

Take a long, hard look at your porn habits and make sure you’re using it healthily. Neglecting your partner for porn isn’t cool, but I’m sure you know that already. There is a line at which healthy porn consumption turns into unhealthy addiction, but most people don’t get to that point.

Finally – and I know this might be hard to contemplate – it may be that the two of you are just not compatible in this way. No one is obligated to settle for someone whose needs, desires, and dealbreakers conflict with their own. She may be able to find a partner who genuinely doesn’t watch porn, and you certainly will be able to find a partner who doesn’t mind that you watch porn or even thinks of it as a good thing. If this issue is important enough to both of you, it might be worth examining the overall worth of your relationship.

Sorry. I know that sucks. Unfortunately, though, some people are just chronically insecure and believe that the only solution is for other people to stop doing whatever triggers those feelings in them – when the real solution is for them to work on their own insecurity, something these folks are often unwilling to do.

I wish you the best of luck in this sticky situation!

Bonus reading:

“My Boyfriend is Always Watching Porn and It Makes Me Uncomfortable!”

Dan Savage on insecure girlfriends of porn-watching boyfriends (and again)

Sharing the Sexy #21

Female porn stars with and without makeup. Draven Star sans makeup is tooootally the kind of girl I would’ve had a huge crush on in high school. Or, you know, now.

• My mom forwarded me this link: vibrators can be used by actors and singers to warm up their voices. I also hear you can hold a Hitachi to your nose to clear up congestion…?

• Here is a great article for introducing trans men’s health to healthcare providers.

• Stoya writes about heteronormativity and monogamy.

• Um, people are upset because of some mannequins shaped like average women. Our culture’s confusion about the definitions of words like “overweight” and “obese” is really appalling sometimes.

• Arabelle Raphael put together this great list of self-care strategies for sex workers.

Can a tantric awakening ruin you for other kinds of sex?

• Here is an excellent piece on that horrific Steubenville rape case we’ve been hearing so much about, and the sexism in its media coverage.

• Trans icon Kate Bornstein needs your help to pay for cancer treatment. She’s one of the sassiest, sweetest gender outlaws out there, so I highly encourage you to donate what you can to help her survive.

Review: SSA Glass Royal Adventure

Dear SSA Glass: I love you, I love you, I love you! Sincerely, GJ’s vagina.

Seriously, though – this month I was lucky enough to receive a Royal Adventure dildo, and my ladybits are smitten.

Previously, my favorite SSA Glass toy was the Amethyst, with the Bubbly coming in a close second, but the whimsically-named Royal Adventure has usurped them both.

Like all the toys this company makes, this one is made of glass, but unlike all their other toys, the Royal Adventure is semi-realistic (in layman’s terms: it kinda looks like a penis). It has a defined head, complete with a coronal ridge and a little faux frenulum, and its shape and size are reasonably average. (It has an insertable length of 6″ and a diameter of 1 ¼”.)

The not-so-realistic element of this dildo is the corkscrew-like ridgy texture that swirls around its shaft from base to head. These ridges are intense and are spaced closer together than I’m used to, so at first they felt foreign and jarring – but with enough lube and arousal goin’ on, I quickly grew to love this texture.

The Royal Adventure has a curve, but it’s hardly anything at all; this isn’t a G-spot toy. Rather than targeting a particular spot, it stimulates the entire front wall of my vagina, while also being long enough to nudge my A-spot.

Another notable thing about the Royal Adventure is that it’s harness-compatible. This is pretty uncommon for glass toys. I can think of a few people who would look totally foxy with this sapphire beauty strapped to them. It’d work not just for vaginal penetration but also for pegging, if the recipient’s ass is experienced enough to be able to handle the texture and firmness.

In summary, yeah, I absolutely adore the Royal Adventure. It is so good that I can forgive SSA Glass for occasionally making baffling mistakes, like releasing an entirely smooth and straight dildo.

Let’s Talk About Terminology: Vulva vs. Vagina

I am troubled by people who use words wrong. Especially when they do so in ways that actually impact the way people view the world. That’s why I’m launching this new feature, Let’s Talk About Terminology, to discuss sex-related terms: the right ones, the wrong ones, which is which, and why.

First up: female genitalia. Of course.

Let’s just ponder for a moment the way female genitals are viewed in our culture. They’re seen as a hole, both terrifying and enticing, through which one’s body emerged into the world and into which one wants to stick one’s dick. That’s an oversimplification, but I think it’s basically accurate.

The perception of female parts is focused around that hole – the vagina – and as a result, the entire vulva (a word which means the external female genitalia, including the clitoris, labia, mons pubis, and so on) is lumped into that name.

It may not seem like much, but it’s extremely denigrating to female sexuality. It defines our entire genital region in terms of the one part of it that is perceived as useful or desirable to our male-dominated culture.

You would never see someone use the word “balls” when they meant “penis,” or vice versa. It just doesn’t happen. Those are two specific and separate parts of that whole setup. And it ought to be the same with the female genitalia, but it isn’t.

The clitoris is an important, significant, distinct organ. The sensations it provides are different and separate from the sensations in one’s vagina. It deserves proper identification.

So I implore you: use these words correctly, and teach them to people who don’t know what they mean. Don’t let someone get away with saying they’re going to “shave their vagina” (oh, dear god, I hope not) or “lick your vagina” or whatever, unless that is what they actually, literally mean.

Vulva’s a much prettier word, anyway.