Anonymous Story: The continuum

I had sex last night. I didn’t want to. I said, “No, stop. I don’t want to have sex right now.” He stopped. Then put my hand on his penis. Like it was his consolation prize. I laughed. “Is that what you do when a girl says no?”

“There are other things we can do besides sex” he said. But that’s where he was wrong. When I said no sex, I meant I didn’t want to be sexual with him. In any way. I wanted to innocently flirt, hold hands, and cuddle on his couch. He saw it as a line crossed when his penis entered my vagina. I saw it as a continuum. It’s not, Everything But. It’s encompassing all sexual acts. The pressuring to feel my breasts, to take off my pants, those all fall under the continuum of “Sexual.” I didn’t want any of it.

The constant pushing, pestering, tugging at my belt loop, undoing a button, rubbing up against me…there’s only so much I can take before I give up fighting, arguing, pushing away, laughing off.

It’s not fun when you’re simply giving up. Giving up isn’t consent. Giving in isn’t consent.