Consent: The Path In and Out
Written by: Turtle and Sequentialized
Contributors: CSPC ND/DG, Chris, Clint, Kathryn, Jae, Jon, Saint, Scarlett, Seranine, and Teeebone
We decided to have a blunt conversation about our needs around consent and neurodiversity. We want to know when we have consent and we want our partners to know when they have our consent with no ambiguity!
Consent wraps itself in so many deep-seated patterns surrounded by generational- and geographical-specific minutiae that it can appear incomprehensible to the average human before you even add neurodiversity to the mix. Indeed, no one hands you a cheat sheet of codes at puberty to help you jump through the initial hoops of the social menagerie. Instead, we all believe we are alone in our shame, feeling lost in confusion, mixed signals, and bullies taking advantage until we memorize the unspoken secret language of flirtation and implied consent.
This is what neurotypicals (NTs) experience and seem to accept as standard operating procedures. Neurodivergent (ND) people find this “shared language” world exceedingly confusing and prefer a literal language, like dictionary definitions. (What I actually said is what I literally meant.) For example: “I want your banana,” means I want your banana, as in fruit, not, “I want to suck your dick,” which could be considered banana-shaped when hard.
Often, neurodivergents will go along with whatever is going on because a past trauma experience leaves them feeling unsafe to say no, or they can’t read body language and suddenly find themselves in too deep to get out without experiencing severe rejection. They experience one of the four F’s of trauma response: Freeze, Fight, Flight, and Fawn. NTs assume consent because the ND did not specifically say “No” or “Stop.” Later, with the lag of trauma response, the neurodivergent could feel increasingly violated but blame themselves for not saying “No.” But they also never said “Yes.” It is important to us that our partners get an express and enthusiastic “YES!” from us!
NOTE 1: Many NDs grow up being told they are not enough or being rejected for not being neurotypical, which leads to Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD). RSD occurs when you experience an intense or overwhelming emotional sensitivity to criticism or rejection. It can be a learned emotional response or you may be genetically predisposed to it.
NOTE 2: Alternately, other NDs struggle with internalized ableism. Lauren Presutti, writing for the Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation, puts it this way: “Internalized ableism is when we project negative feelings onto ourselves. This happens when we start to believe how society labels disability as inferior. We start to believe the stereotypes. Internalized ableism occurs when we are so heavily influenced by the stereotypes, misconceptions, and discrimination against people with disabilities that we start to believe that our disabilities really do make us inferior” (Presutti, 2021). We observe this to mean that we do not deserve to ask for our needs to be met in any way, shape, or form.
We feel that there are at least three types of thinkers: NTs, NDs, and neurotranslators. Translators seem to be in a small percentage; however, they can easily discourse within the communication matrix of either group. They are a lovely addition to any mixed population and really smooth out the ability to share ideas.
The Struggle
We NDs feel like we tell our counterparts what we need, and who we are…and they tear it apart looking for a secret code. They just then do whatever they want without also communicating the same information in return. We recognize that perhaps they are just not used to participating like this or perhaps have negative emotions surrounding such sharing. We are not trying to project any emotions necessarily. We just want information for better understanding. We wonder if the other person is cognitively inflexible.
Understand that we process things in a multitude of different ways, some that we may share, while others we may not as we tend to be very internally wired humans. But all you have to do is ask, and when we are ready and feel safe, most likely we will share. Please try your best to be supportive and not be derogatory or humiliate us.
Ultimately, for enthusiastic consent from a neurodivergent:
Know when someone is capable of giving consent.*
Tell us very specifically what you want using actual names for body parts.
Point to where we can touch and what we can take off.
Tell us what the end of the scene looks like.
Show us how to please you.
Be open to let us show you exactly what pleases us. Be open to hearing exactly what we want to touch, lick, kiss, fuck, hit, punch, etc.
Be on time.
Follow up afterward.
Honor our boundaries.
Ask, “Is this ok?” whenever you need to or when we get that fearful look in our eyes.
We spoke about “Nonviolent Communication” by Marshall Rosenberg as a reference for better communication skills.
*Another fantastic reference! https://www.consent.academy
A Kiss Is Not A Contract - Flight Of The Conchords (Lyrics)
Quotes from the ND/DG
“We have so much processing from having our boundaries ignored as children and having masked ourselves all day at work that we can get accidentally pressured into agreeing to things we wouldn’t agree to when not exhausted.”
“If asleep or passed out or someone’s body is responding to your violation—that doesn’t give consent.”
“The moment when the puzzle pieces click much later is intense and isolating. The context is lost to most and is quite vivid in my mind.”
“I’ve always been afraid to say no.”
“I'm glad there are communities such as this for support. Each of your journeys is so very valid.”
Unpushing the Panic Button
Companion Piece to “Consent: The Path In and Out”
By Turtle (written November 23, 2022)
I’m sitting in the corner of the stacks
Heavy mahogany shelving reaching into the clouds of my mind
Ladders cling, fragilely skimming my imagination as it cavorts among authors and genres.
My eyes stray over the edge of my latest conquest…dragons and mummies and mimes oh my
To my dreams in reality—flesh and blood, cloth and leather.
Sandy, semi-pulled-back hair, some trailing
Their jawline as they nibble errantly on a pencil.
Unknowing I’m watching…again.
Unknowing of my very existence.
I doubt I deserve someone so awesome.
If they turn out to be fantastic…
“How can they be anything but amazing?” I ask myself
As I paint graceful fairy wings on their back.
Do wolves fly? They look like a cute fluffy wolf.
Perhaps a wolf with wings is weird.
I watch their throat move serpentine as they swallow from their water bottle.
What would it feel like if they swallowed me?
They stand. Oh no.
Turn my way.
I scooch down. Folding myself on the hardwood chair.
They walk down the row I’m seated at the end of.
I can’t breathe.
I freeze.
TERROR POURS INTO ME.
What if they saw me?
What if they are going to tell me to stop staring and violating their space?
I’m going to throw up!
I feel dizzy!
Maybe I will pass out!
PAUSE. BREATHE.
They are facing away from me
Searching the shelf for a specific book.
It’s worse than rejection.
They don’t even see me.
I’m invisible.
Thoughts spiral wildly in an endless, infinite moment.
They pull an enormous dusty tome.
“Oof!” I hear as I drop my head to hide behind my hair.
A large intake of breath and they exhale to blow the dust off the book.
BOOF!
Wheeze! Cough!
I’m hacking like a cat with a hairball!
“OMG are you ok?”
“Inhaler…” I gasp while blindly fumbling with the front pouch of my green backpack.
They gently remove the bag from my grasping fingers and pull out my inhaler
Assembling it with its spacer properly in a blink.
“Here.”
Hiss. Suuuuuuuccccccckkkkkk. (HOLD) Huuuuuuuuhhhhhh.
Hiss. Suuuuuuuccccccckkkkkk. (HOLD) Huuuuuuuuhhhhhh.
A tear runs down my cheek as the horrible feeling of being unable to breathe eases.
Their warm palm cups my face.
My eyes widen as I flick them up.
I’m making eye contact.
Direct eye contact.
They are green looking into my blue and they don’t look away.
I forget to breathe.
What is air anyway?
Their thumb lightly brushes away my tear
The trail of wetness slowly dries as my face begins to warm.
Still, they look into my eyes.
How long has it been?
When will they move?
When will the catastrophic rejection occur?
Can we just get it over with?
I want to scream and run and maybe change schools—
“I See you,” they say.
Not little “s” see but big capital “S” See.
“Take a breath.”
So I do.
“Shall we go for a walk?”
I nod.
They help me gather my belongings like we’ve done it many times before.
They hold out their hand to me.
I look at it.
“It’s ok. I don’t bite unless you ask me to!” they say with a wicked little grin.
I watch my hand reach out of its own accord and grasp theirs.
I feel like for the first time I’ve given my consent instead of having it taken.
Relief washes over me.
I feel safe.
I follow them out of the deep twilight shadows of the library where I hide
Into the sunlight sliding through the cherry blossoms.
Today my dreams are real.
The fear blows away.