
While the world is actively debating harassment, violence, and the limits of what is permissible in interactions between two people, a different tone is being heard on the RuNet.
We’re discussing how to dress and how to pose for social media so that your murder will be morally justified by the entire country, and we’ve almost categorically decided that we don’t need any kind of consent in sex, because it kills romance and generally distorts the whole essence of sex.
Let’s explore how these beliefs arise and why consent in sex doesn’t actually interfere with romance and the concept of sex.
For many, pain is an essential part of sex.
Pain statistics
When we talk about consent in sex, we a priori assume that all participants in the process are in an equal position, have the same information and expectations.
It seems that pain does not fit into these expectations for anyone, but nevertheless, studies show that 30% of women and 5% of men experience pain during vaginal sex, 72% of women during anal sex, and most of them do not tell their partner about it.
There is also data: 8–21% of women experience dyspareunia—painful intercourse (ranging from slightly painful to extremely painful) due to medical or psychological reasons—at some point in their lives; 15% experience chronic dyspareunia. It takes an average of 9.28 years for a woman to finally be diagnosed with endometriosis (one of the causes of dyspareunia).
Journalist Lili Loofbourow, who writes for The Guardian, The New York Times Magazine, and The New Republic, quotes a direct line from a scientific study in one of her articles, showing how women survive those nine-plus years:
“Anyone who has been dealing with complaints of dyspareunia on a regular basis knows that women tend to continue intercourse, if necessary, simply gritting their teeth.”
89% of women experience problems with their sex life three months after giving birth, 30% continue to experience constant pain during sex even a year after giving birth.
The difference is in the semantics
If you ask your friends around you how often they have had bad and good sex, it turns out that men and women have about the same results.
Loughborough set out to study whether men and women had the same meanings for “good” and “bad” sex, and found that they did not.
Bad sex is pain for a woman.
Bad sex for a man means a boring partner.
Good sex for a woman means no pain.
Good sex for a man means a bright orgasm.
This isn’t new information about the sexual reality of half the planet’s population. It’s just that this is the first time we’ve taken it into account.
If at least a third of women grit their teeth during sex, it means that at least a third of women, even without taking into account the issue of consent, do not enjoy sex and the romance in it.
Sex without consent is always violence.
What does consent mean in sex?
In fact, the very meaning of consent is now being explained in detail and adequately on the Russian-language internet: it’s a clear “yes” in response to a proposal to have sex, active physical participation by both parties (or however many of you there are), equality of partners, and the possibility of revocation.
What prevents us from receiving and giving adequate consent?
Don’t tell him “I don’t want it this way” too often, otherwise he’ll think you’re selfish.
Don’t ask, “Are you okay?” She’ll think you don’t know what to do with her.
Don’t tell him, “Get off, that’s enough,” if the action has been dragged on and you’re already uncomfortable. What if he has trouble ejaculating? Can’t you hold it in? A man is like a child; don’t say anything outright, just offer him another toy.
Don’t ask her, “Why are you crying?” It could be because she loves you so much. Don’t stop, she’ll appreciate it.
Don’t tell him “Yes, let’s do it again” – you can’t give a man orders in bed, otherwise he won’t want to sleep with you anymore.
These are all quotes from glossy Russian magazines. These “forbidden” phrases cover all the sensitive topics that ultimately lead to bad, often traumatic, sex. They tell women: don’t think about yourself in bed, don’t talk about your feelings, tolerate and discomfort pain. And they tell men: ignore your partner’s discomfort, keep doing what you’re doing, even if your partner cries.
After all, the most precious things are at stake: “masculinity” and “femininity,” the “correct” performance of sexual roles, which for many heterosexual couples still remains an unshakable pillar. To avoid being seen as a “bitch” or perceived as “macho,” it’s worth the patience.
Why it can be difficult to talk about consent in sex
The concept of consent seems to imply that it never existed before. This takes the conversation about sex in a new direction: suddenly, it turns out that all your past experiences could have been traumatic for your loved ones. Interestingly, men’s reactions on the RuNet boiled down to resentment and “I didn’t rape anyone,” while women’s reactions boiled down to “those who are in pain are to blame” and “a man should take it.”
Attempting to distance oneself from the described cases and repeating the sacred tenets of heterosexuality is a form of defensiveness. But even feminist theory doesn’t reduce the discussion to blaming one side or labeling men as rapists.
Radical feminists have declared men to be the enemies of women, while men’s movements have labeled women as the enemies of humanity. But we don’t address these radical groups when we plan to discuss the issue constructively.
Consent isn’t about shifting blame. I’d like to believe that no one in their right mind would intentionally harm the person they’re sleeping with.
But it’s entirely expected that if a girl is prepared from childhood for a painful first time that she will have to endure, and a boy is prepared for the need to continue despite the pain and blood, this will lead to the adult woman continuing to endure, and the man ignoring the discomfort.
Consent is necessary for both parties to overcome rigid notions about intimacy, to deal with their own complexes, and to stop turning it into bad sex for everyone.
Spontaneous sex is not violence
Romance before sex is foreplay on the roof by candlelight, in a fitting room, in the basement of your parents’ dacha, or anywhere and however you like, but no foreplay means consent to sex.
If someone kisses you first or accepts kisses, that’s not consent. If you make it to the bed/shower/table while kissing, that’s not consent. Phrases from the “forbidden” list above (“Do you want to continue?” or “Should I stop?”) aren’t safe words; they won’t ruin the evening or kill your desire, if it’s there.
If you asked and were refused, it wasn’t consent that deprived you of sex; it was your partner who didn’t want sex at the time. And if you didn’t ask and sex did occur, there’s a chance your partner will remember the evening differently.
Spontaneous sex is when you’re ironing your socks, a girl brings you coffee, kisses you, and then sex happens. No one calls that violence. The same goes for spontaneous sex that starts in the hallway.
In general, no type of spontaneous sex is considered violence. Because none of these situations are hindered by yet another “stop phrase” from the glossy magazines: “What do you want me to do?” It allows the one who isn’t initiating sex to listen to themselves and voice their decision.
And finally: giving someone the opportunity to voice their desire after a romantic evening or in the process of tearing each other’s clothes off does not interfere with intimacy and does not kill the passion.
But always expecting sex from a person and not giving him a chance to realize his desire is a complex and selfishness that allows one to consider sex without consent to be romantic and passionate.
A person refuses sex not because he was asked, but because he does not want sex.

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