In mid-December, I ordered a copy of “Yes Means Yes! Visions of Female Sexual Power and a World without Rape, edited by Jaclyn Friedman and Jessica Valenti. YMY is an anthology filled with essays by writers well-known in the feminist blogosphere, and others who aren’t; by men, by women, by transgendered folks, by people across the sexual (and chronological) identity spectrum. But each piece in the collection offers a new and different insight into the questions of rape, consent, power and pleasure. Taken as a whole, these 27 essays constitute a visionary and immensely important contribution to the work of creating a new sexual dynamic between men and women, between men, between women, and within ourselves.
The foreword to the anthology comes from feminist comedian Margaret Cho, who in her familiar funny and painfully insightful style, sets the tone for the collection. She writes about the complexity of that simple word, “yes”, and the insidious variety of ways in which our sexist cultural rules work to extract that monosyllable from women. Though the title of the collection is “Yes Means Yes!”, Cho and the editors understand that an authentic “yes!” can only come in a dynamic where “no!” can be said safely. Just as it is infuriating and exasperating to have one’s genuine “yes!” overanalyzed, shamed, or denied, there are also huge psychic consequences to saying “yes” just to placate, to soothe, to avoid a fight. Cho writes:
I am surprised by how much sex I have had in my life that I didn’t want to have. Not exactly what’s considered “real” rape, or “date” rape, like my first time, although it is a kind of rape of the spirit — a dishonest portrayal or distortion of my own desire in order to appease another person — so it wasn’t rape at gunpoint, but rape as the alternative to having to explain my reasons for not wanting to have sex…
Often I would initiate the encounter just to get it over with, so it would be behind me, so it would be done. It is the worst feeling; it is like emotional prostitution, emotional whoring. You don’t get paid in dollars, you get paid in averted arguments…
I said yes to partners I never wanted in the first place, because to say no at any point after saying yes would make the whole relationship a lie, so I had to keep saying yes in order to keep the “no” I felt a secret. This is such a messed-up way to live, such an awful way to love.
It’s dangerous for any feminist man to claim knowledge of “how women think”, but in countless journals and in group or private discussions, I’ve heard women say almost exactly what Cho says here. And I’ve heard it from one or two of my exes from years ago, women who were honest enough (and often, angry enough) to call me on my own privilege, my own presumption, and the thousand ways in which I (who ought to have known better) helped to create a dynamic where I needed soothing. One of the most humbling experiences I’ve been through is listening to a lover recount to me, in excruciatingly candid detail, the way in which I worked (with her complicity) to silence her “No”, to “get” her “yes”. This is not to suggest that my male pro-feminism is rooted in a desire to make amends, or even worse, to reclaim some lost pride. But a great many men are oblivious to the ways in which their sense of entitlement — and women’s culturally ingrained people-pleasing behavior — work to make sex legally consensual but emotionally unwanted. For men who care about their partners, the realization that a woman has had sex to soothe, to placate, or “just get it over with”, is and ought to be devastating. And it ought to be an impetus to action, to candor, to hard work, and to conversation. Cho’s foreword sets a tone for all of that, while serving to remind us in scathingly honest fashion of the consequences of remaining silent. Continue reading ‘Towards the “pleasure-affirming vision”: a review of the magisterial “Yes Means Yes”’
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