Elaine Miller
This piece was sparked by a conversation I was having with some friends. It was all about consent, and the meaning of knowledgeable consent.
Up To the Seventh Stage of "No": (Oh, were those your testicles?)
[Preamble]
I remember being a not-so-little girl of about 14 and having troubles saying "no".
Well, see the trouble was that I was told that I was supposed to say no, but I didn't know *how*... and I wasn't clear in my own self when I wanted, or needed to say it. Over and over again I got to the point where I was forced to back up my "no", "Ummm, no", "no, really, I shouldn't" "stop that" "quit it" with physical force. I was one of the lucky ones, and while I had a few uncomfortable experiences with boys my age, none of these were terribly traumatic and all happened when I was old enough to reason in a more-or-less adult fashion.
By 17, I had developed the "Seven Stages of NO" (invented as a giggle, and continued as useful), wherein the first stage was "Thank you, but I really feel I must decline", the second was "No. Thank you.", the third was "No.", so on up. The seventh stage of NO was physical mayhem. "Oh, dear, I'm sorry, were those your testicles? (eyeballs? entrails?)"
If I felt hurried or cornered, I had given myself permission to skip stages freely. Stages five and six were the ones I learned to love, training myself to keep eyes steady, voice flat with no hint of give or apology, warning of impending mayhem if this course of action were followed....
The more practice I got at "no", the easier it got. I had to advance less stages along my plan of ... er... attack. People listened to me quickly. People respected my wishes, for the most part. I had learned to say "no". And I liked it.
As a fascinating corollary, my "yes" became ever more powerful, and freeing. It meant something, now. Not a mere absence of "no", my "yes" was sure, positive, and open.
[Amble]
I know a lot of women now who have a hard time saying no, even when they mean to do so. I hear from women who have had sex against their will, who have endured scenes they'd rather not be in, who (in a day to day sense) have had relatives move in for the weekend, decidedly unwelcome.
I know that childhood issues of power and control being taken forcibly away have long term effects. I see them in women I love every day. And even women without those issues have almost always grown up in a society that discourages girls and women from having enough personal power to be able to say "no".... or for that matter, "yes".
I believe we can make a good start with giving some of that knowledge away, to whom it will do the most good. The children.
If we teach children the real details of how to stand on their own power, let them know how to say No to something that makes them hurt or uncomfortable, and how their opinion matters, we'll be taking a real step forward. "Just say no" is an asinine, simplistic way of putting it. The real way to get the message across is to show them, first by example, and then by allowing them their own decisions. You never forget the feeling of standing up for yourself, when it works. It will carry with you into adulthood, and into the rest of your life.
[Postamble] (Call for comments)
Where do we start teaching ourselves how to say "no"? How do we say it so it can be heard? Why will this person listen to me, but paddle all over a third person's personal boundaries? What makes one "no" different from another? Can we teach it effectively? What would an exercise look like?
Is "no" still hard for any of you, and does anyone have any feedback on what *that* feels like? Comments welcome.
