This note is not for cases of sexual violence. It’s not for the times when there was the knowing intent to do harm, which certainly happens to a painful extent in our society. It’s more for the subtle scenarios — the ones that are finally coming into light in the wake of the #metoo movement. The things we ask and question, “wait, was that rape?”

I’m talking about sex you were too drunk to consent to; the times you froze when you were scared. The sketchy things like penetrating someone after they said “no, I don’t want to have sex if we don’t have a condom”.

The sex that is nonconsensual, however you didn’t yell or kick or fight.

These men (and women), who brought about so much hurt and broken trust, are often not predators or monsters — they are someone’s loved one (sometimes, our own loved one). They are someone’s teacher, friend, — or brother. These are people we trusted so much that we got into their cars and came over their houses.

My favorite thing that’s come out of the #metoo movement is the #ihave. The humanizing of ‘offenders’. People who have come out and said, “I have. I acted without consent. I’m sorry. I I didn’t realize the level of harm I caused”. Many people are scared to come out, to own their own mistakes, because they don’t want to be put on the same level as ‘rapists’. They don’t want their lives ruined, to be attacked — all of which is unnecessary.

I heard about a guy who posted, “Have I? Please, reach out and let me know”.

This gives me hope.

I think a lot of people who have violated consent don’t know they did. That a lot of these violations have been caused by a lack of awareness. Not enough understanding of how serious a violation of consent can be, how much it can hurt. Not quite enough empathy of how another person feels in the moment.

When you tell such a story to a guy friend, you often get this response:

“What? I don’t understand,” he will say, “if she really doesn’t want to, why didn’t she kick or yell or try to push him off her?”

Because it wouldn’t occur to you do that. Those kinds of actions belong to a completely different state of consciousness than the one you’re in. When there’s someone bigger, stronger leaning over you, there’s an element of physical domination. And often, in these sort of interactions, there’s an element of psychological domination as well. That’s why sexual harassment by someone who has power over you — a boss, a teacher, etc. is as intense as it is.

You could be in a submissive kind of state where it occurs to you to freeze, to wish you were somewhere else, but not to punch someone’s nose — although you might think about punching them, afterwards.

Power dynamics have a lot to do with it.

If you haven’t experienced a submissive state yourself, you might not get it.

In such a state, a simple “no” is enough. More than enough.

In an ideal world, anyone in any position of power, would always be checking in and maintaining a level of awareness of how the other person is doing.

When we’re anything near an intimate situation with another person, there’s an element of trust.

If I get in the passenger seat of your car, I’m placing trust in you. I’m trusting you to drive responsibly, to give me a say in the temperature of the car — and, to stop the car and let me out if you’re going somewhere I don’t want to go.

If you stop paying attention or listening to me, that could be one hell of a scary situation.

Consent violations linger. The hurt stays in your body, stiffens you and lowers your levels of trust. You become suspicious not only the person who harmed you, but for anyone that remotely reminds you of them. You cut away the softer sides of yourself, because it doesn’t feel safe to express them.

That’s why verbally asking for consent is such a huge deal. Hearing and heeding dissent is paramount.

We all think of ourselves as master lovers who pay attention to our partner’s every move — but our actual selves sometimes do not match up to our ideal selves. As a society, we are definitely not at the level of perfect nonverbal communication yet.

This is why checking in, “How are you? Do you want me to go further? Do you want me to keep going?” is such a big deal.

So you are aware of how they are doing.

From painful personal experience, it’s really awful to discover you hurt someone through a lack of awareness. The process of understanding that we can damange as much through negligence as through anger, is, often, a soul wrenching process.

The people who have written #ihave and #have i? give me tremendous hope. The #ihave and I’m sorry and never again. We have all made mistakes and done things we are not proud of, much of what happened below the level of our awareness. Learning what’s true, from everyone’s perspective, is what heals us and brings us closer as a community.