On consent and boundaries...

A short essay

Consent. Our body. Embodiment. Unearthing, unraveling, dismantling and dislodging the messages and stories we’ve been given over and over and over. By our families. By our mentors. By our friends. By our culture.

Those stories of how our Noes don’t matter. Those stories of how our will is irrelevant. Those stories of how we need to remain silent and small to stay safe.

And then, in those moments when we gather the courage to share the truth of our own lived experience, when we open our throats and whisper or speak or yell our No or Yes or Truth, we aren’t believed.

We are told, No, it didn’t really happen like that. You must be misunderstanding. You don’t really mean what you say.

Over and over we are told we don’t know our own body. We don’t know our own mind. We don’t know our own boundaries or wishes or consent.

And, because we are told so often and from such an early age, we believe them.

And in the believing we allow others to have control over us. Over our body. Over our voice. Over o…