The Problem with Saying Consent is “Sexy”

This semester, I have acted in two plays that highlighted stories of sexual violence and gave victims a voice. It would be easy to sit back now and think I met some sort of “activism quota” for the year and that I can slip back into the shadows and pretend there’s no more to say on the subject. We tend to do that a lot with social issues. We set aside a month or day out of the year or wait until something bad happens to remind us about the issue and then we talk and talk and talk…and then fall silent. So this is me doing my best not to do that.

April 24 was one of those special days in which we are asked to think more about sexual assault. It was Denim Day, an annual event inspired by a 1998 rape trial where it was ruled that a young woman’s tight jeans implied consent because there was allegedly no way anyone could have removed such an article of clothing without help from the person wearing them. I decided to take a photo with my university’s victim advocacy group to spread awareness. I was offered a pin to wear. I chose one that read “Consent is (the word “sexy” crossed out) mandatory.” I was drawn to it because I have seen “consent is sexy” thrown around as a form of cutesy activism, and it is, as the button and many people have pointed out, so problematic. The saying perpetuates this crazy idea some people have that consent is this “new” thing people didn’t have to think about much before #MeToo.

Saying consent is “sexy” is basically saying it is an extra special touch you can add to spice up your love life, and with the lack of education we have in our culture about it, that sure might seem to be true. Consent is still not taught in all schools, and I don’t know of many people whose sex education even addressed rape. I wonder how often someone asks you, the one reading this, for permission before touching you. I wonder how often you have to say no later because you didn’t have a say. How often do you have to say “No, actually, I didn’t want you to do that” because you accepted that he/she/they didn’t want to have to make it “awkward” by asking you first?

The culture I grew up in did not teach me to demand consent.

Am I the only one who is a bit sickened by the fact that I am turned on and frankly, surprised by a partner asking for permission? Or the fact that I think it…