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I asked my Wife about Sexual Consent, didn’t go great.I asked my Wife about Sexual Consent, didn’t go great.">

I asked my Wife about Sexual Consent, didn’t go great.

イリーナ・ジュラヴレヴァ

A few years back I asked Emily whether she had ever gone along with something sexual with me when she actually didn’t want to, and she said yes — and that admission made me feel really ill. I mention that because I suspect this is far more widespread than many men realize. So today I want to urge all of us, especially men, to do a far better job than I did in making sure our partners know we would never want them to engage in any sexual activity unless they genuinely feel comfortable with it. She told me those moments were rare and that she hadn’t felt forced, and she emphasized that it had been technically consensual, yet she still went through with it anyway. Maybe I’m mistaken, but I think many women grow up learning that love means self-sacrifice — even in sexual matters — that loving someone sometimes means doing things that make you uneasy. For me, I wanted Emily to understand that consent means both people truly want to participate. I wanted her to know I care about her feelings around sex, about her pleasure, about what arouses her, about her stress, and about her never feeling pressured. Consent doesn’t vanish once you’re married; I am not entitled to her body. I also acknowledge that the idea of consent can be misused by either partner — I get that — but surely we can agree that love should never force, coerce, or guilt someone into sexual acts they don’t actually want. Sadly, I’ve heard women say that if they don’t comply, their partner will simply get what he wants elsewhere — and that isn’t love, that’s selfishness and control. So I challenge men to tell their partners, out loud, that they want them to feel safe, respected, and valued. Saying it is important, but it also requires honesty and openness about whether she has ever felt pressured. It means helping her reject any belief that she must sacrifice her own pleasure or abandon her boundaries to feel close, because I don’t believe you’d ever want her to feel that way.

Here are practical steps and ideas to turn that intention into action:

Words are important, but consistent behavior is what builds trust. Saying “I want you to feel safe” is a good start; following it with regular check-ins, respectful responses to boundaries, and genuine efforts to prioritize your partner’s pleasure will make it real. If we all take responsibility for how we ask, listen, and act, we can create relationships where intimacy is mutual, joyful, and never the result of someone sacrificing their own comfort to please another.

Moving Forward: Practical Steps for Communication, Boundaries, and Repairing Trust

Moving Forward: Practical Steps for Communication, Boundaries, and Repairing Trust

Immediately pause all sexual advances and agree on a short-term safety plan: choose a safe word or phrase, stop physical contact until both agree, and set a 48–72 hour check-in to debrief feelings and next steps.

Use specific consent language every time you initiate contact. Scripts you can use: “Do you want me to touch you here? Yes, no, or stop.” “Is now a good time for intimacy?” “Tell me clearly if you want me to stop.” After a “no” or “stop,” wait for clear affirmative consent before resuming.

Define written boundaries across four categories: physical (types of touch that require prior permission), emotional (topics that are off-limits during conflict), contextual (no sexual advances when tired, intoxicated, or around children), and privacy (no sharing intimate details with others). Write these in a single page, sign it, and review weekly for the first two months.

Repair trust with a concise accountability plan. Follow this structure: acknowledge what happened and the impact, accept responsibility without excuses, list specific corrective actions, and set measurable milestones. Example: “I interrupted your answer and pushed physical contact. I own that. For the next 8 weeks I will ask permission before touch, record a daily checklist, and attend couples therapy.”

Use measurable indicators to track progress. Hold a 30-minute check-in each week for eight weeks. After intimate moments, ask your partner to rate comfort on a 1–5 scale and send a one-line follow-up within 24 hours. Keep a private log of these ratings and share summaries at the weekly check-in.

Engage professional help if either of you feels stuck. Look for a licensed couples therapist (LMFT, LPC) or an AASECT-certified sex therapist; use directories like PsychologyToday or the AASECT provider search. Expect at least 6–12 focused sessions and homework such as consent practice exercises and communication drills.

Practice repair language and apology templates until they feel sincere. Short example: “I was wrong to proceed without checking. I understand how that hurt you. I will stop initiating until you give clear consent and I will join therapy to change my habits.” Avoid conditional clauses or shifting blame.

Create a safety protocol if boundaries are crossed again: immediate pause of sexual contact, a neutral third-party check-in (trusted friend or therapist), and a written plan for restoring contact only after agreed steps are met (apology, counseling session, and a demonstration of changed behavior over a set period).

Commit to measurable behavior changes and a review date. Examples: “No initiating physical touch for 4 weeks unless invited,” “Ask consent 100% of the time,” “Complete one therapy session per week,” and “Review progress on [date].” Let your partner set or veto any element of this plan.

Small, observable actions–consistent asking, clear stop signals, documented check-ins, and professional support–rebuild safety and predictability faster than vague promises.

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