Apparently, My Right to Consent is “Unnecessary”?

And here I was, thinking I have a say in what I do with my own body. How silly of me!

Hello, and welcome to another episode of “Trolls Weekly”.

I’m your host, Gillian Sisley.

You know, that girl who is outraging misogynistic trolls everywhere because she’s s sex-positive feminist who has decided to save her virginity for marriage.

Please, hold your collective gasps.

On one of my latest articles, I put a disclaimer, because the last time I wrote about being a semi-celibate woman, I upset some privileged white guy somewhere in the world.

So this time, I did my due diligence to put an honest-to-God disclaimer which said, in essence, that I was happy to share my story, but could we just agree that no one was entitled to more information than I was providing?

You know, my story, my right to share as much as I want. Just because I’ve written about my sexuality before, doesn’t make the entirety of it the intellectual property of my readers. Sounds fair, right?

But alas, I forgot to include another important disclaimer.

I forgot the disclaimer that said while I choose this particular lifestyle, I expect absolutely no one else to follow suit and in no way, shape or form, do I consider myself superior for making this choice for my body.

Oh wait. No, no. I DID INCLUDE THAT POINT.

Multiple times.

Actually, that was an over-arching theme throughout the entire article.

But I digress — I made someone mad. Again.

Oops.

I guess saving myself for marriage is quite controversial?

Really though. Really?

But why?

No seriously, can someone explain this to me? Am I missing something?

I actively advocate for all people having the right to consent to how they use their own bodies, in whichever way they see fit. Period.

Getting yours every night of the week? Girl, you go and get some. Also, please share the juicy details with me over a glass of wine sometime so I can live vicariously through you. My wedding is still 5 months away and I’m getting antsy.

By contrast, remaining entirely celibate until your wedding night? By all means, I understand better than most how you may have come to making this commitment for yourself. And good for you — it’s a tough road to walk with many threats and temptations along the way.

And then there’s me — the in-betweener. That gal who frolics in the grey area of sexual intimacy. That gal who is sex-positive, embraces her sexuality openly, is sexually active with her fiancé, and is also abstaining from intercourse until her wedding night.

Why? Well, I have plenty of reasons.

But the only one which really matters is that it’s what I choose to do, and that answer is good enough to end the discussion. Full. Stop.

He called my commitment “unnecessary”.

His first comment on my article spoke about how as a middle-aged, unmarried man, he was glad he didn’t make the same commitment. My favourite part was that he ended his comment with:

“good for you”?

The quotations were included. The question mark was included. He was saying this with his index and middle fingers next to his face as he curled them with each syllable.

Like a seven-year-old child does when they’ve learned how to use sarcasm for the first time.

I showed the comment to my fiancé and said, “The f*ck does this even mean?”

Bless my girl Maggie Lakis, who had my back and commented on my behalf initially, saying beautiful things which I honestly don’t feel worthy of.

In essence, she was requesting for him to show some respect, even if my lifestyle isn’t what he would choose for himself.

His response?

“This is an unnecessary act of determination. There is no inherent nobility in denying oneself solely because you’ve made a commitment. I don’t admire her for it.”

Ah, another man to mansplain consent to me. My favourite.

Because there really isn’t another way to put it: my “unnecessary” commitment is synonymous to one thing — my right to consent.

I love my partner. I wanna sex my partner all the way, up and down. I can’t wait for my wedding night when I can ride him for as long as I have the energy to do so.

But not before our wedding night. No matter how much I love him, no matter how much I want to give it all to him, no matter how much I know in my bones that he’s the one who I’ll be spending the rest of my life with, there remains one undeniable and non-negotiable truth:

I do not consent to intercourse before marriage. With anyone. Period.

You could be Chris Hemsworth dressed as Thor, my lady-bits could be fluttering like a pterodactyl and I could want you with every fibre of my entire being, so much so that I want to rip all of my clothes of right then and there.

Trust me, I’ve been there, many times before (alas, not with Chris Hemsworth, sadly).

And still, at the end of the day, I will not consent.

Infer that my commitment to abstain is “unnecessary”, and you are actively trying to deny me of that right.

I channelled my inner Coco Chanel.

I didn’t have a glass of wine with dinner last night, I swear.

That said, I was feeling pretty damn sassy when this troll rolled his way into my evening.

So, my response to his comments and disrespectful back and forths with my fellow warrior looked like this:

You know what, Maggie, he’s totally right.

I should have just let my first boyfriend rape and have his way with me.

That obviously makes so much more sense than holding onto this stupid and “unnecessary” concept called “consent”. What an illogical inconvenience for entitled men who are clearly much wiser in the workings of my body and my soul than I am.

I’ve been so silly all this time — I’ve only just realized it now. 15 years of my life, just entirely wasted. #heartbroken

I even added a GIF of Britney Spears weeping to really pop in an extra pinch of satire to my comment.

Well, I guess I really offended him, because he went on to say that if that was what I thought he was implying, then “f*ck you”.

Oh! Well, there you go.

F*ck me, I guess.

Pardon, but I was just using my understanding of the English language to make sense of the words he’d put together in a sentence, along with applying some basic 3rd-grade math to the equation:

If my “unnecessary” commitment = my right to consent + the definition of “unnecessary” being (according to the Oxford dictionary): “something which is not needed” —

Then are you not saying, “kind sir”, that my right to consent is not required? Thus, it is irrelevant?

Huh.

From where I’m standing, with several other women, my deduction of what he was implying was dead-on.

But then again, what do I know?

I’m just a dumb-dumb woman, after, all. Right?

Final word.

It likely won’t shock you that after our exchange I blocked the guy.

Call me hysterical, but I don’t really need someone who thinks there’s no requirement for me to have consent in my life to be able to access me online.

I’ll just keep me and my semi-celibate a** in spaces where people can respect one another’s right to operate their own lives in whichever manner they deem fit.

This sort of space is also known as living with some human decency.

But I guess that’s just too much to expect from some people.