Do I Really Have to Ask for Consent to Show My Breasts?

How far should we take consent in a culture that over-sexualizes the female body?

Not long ago, I wrote an essay called May I Show You My Breasts? in which I described the compulsion I have felt for most of my adult life to have my nude body photographed and to make the photos public.

A very thoughtful reader brought up an interesting point about the difference between sharing photos like this in a gallery setting vs. on social media. She brought up the importance of getting consent for posting nude photographs so they don’t come into someone’s space uninvited.

While I absolutely loved her stance and the thoughtfulness she had brought to the issue — which is basically to always err on the side of gaining consent (and who can argue with that?) — it also got me thinking about some concepts around nudity and consent that I’d like to challenge.

Social media and consent

Where does consent begin on social media?

In my opinion, if you follow someone, you have given your consent to receive whatever they post. If you decide you want to revoke your consent, you can unfollow them.

Social media is part of our corner of the internet. That means I can do what I want on my page (so long as it follows the sexist, arbitrary community guidelines of certain platforms). If someone were to shame me for posting nudes there, I’d kindly suggest they leave (unfollow).

Maybe my white slip photos were too much for someone. Okay, no problem. But I wouldn’t take them down or apologize. Those who would be offended by such photos can simply opt out of seeing them.

If someone were to shame me for posting nudes there, I’d kindly suggest they leave…

I understand this and have no judgment about it. I have a lot of evangelical vegan friends who post violent, horrifying photos and videos of animals being killed at slaughterhouses. I’m a vegetarian and have issues with factory farms, but does that mean I want to see those images? Hell no. So I opt out by unfollowing (though not unfriending) those people. Problem solved.

I love scrolling through Twitter and seeing people’s photos of their boobs, asses, underwear, and anything else they want to show. I love celebrating people’s sexuality with them and if I didn’t, I’d just unfollow those people.

Expectations and consent

I suspect our expectations affect our feelings about consent. When we make assumptions about a person based on their writing, art, or other creations and then find that their social media feed or newsletters are a little racier than what we had expected, it can feel almost like a violation to some people. Wait a minute — we knew that this person was very sensual, but now she’s posting a photo of her naked breasts online? Whoa.

Unfortunately, this is bound to happen because when we relate to someone’s art (in whatever form it comes), we cannot help but make assumptions about the artist. And those assumptions are also deeply tied to our cultural biases and beliefs about morality, appropriateness, and sexuality. It might be one thing to read about a woman’s exploration into her sexuality…but seeing that exploration as an image of her naked body might be a trigger for some.

I find that the best way to avoid this is to be as authentic and honest as possible. I write very openly about my explorations of my sexuality — my doubts, my beliefs, my concerns, my hopes — and my social media accounts mirror that exploration with the photos and content I share. That’s not to say that my nude and semi-nude photos might not trigger some people, but it certainly wouldn’t shock them, knowing what I share on other platforms.

It might be one thing to read about a woman’s exploration into her sexuality…but seeing that exploration as an image of her naked body might be a trigger for some.

I also try to remain very consistent with my work so that I don’t upend people’s expectations of me once they’ve already begun following me. For instance, I’ve never shared a photo of my nipples in my newsletter, even though I’ve been occasionally tempted to do so. I’m mindful that people might open it on their break at work, or on the family computer, and since I’ve never done it before, subscribers (I imagine) don’t worry about opening my emails in semi-public settings.

That doesn’t mean my emails are “family friendly” — though again, they never have been and I try to be clear on my platforms that all my work includes aspects of sexuality or other adult content.

Although, that doesn’t mean I’ll never post a photo of my nipples in my newsletter. I do like to push the envelope a little…

Consent and female nipples

My biggest beef with the idea of asking for consent when posting a photo of my nipples online is, unsurprisingly, the fact that I think it’s sexist that women’s nipples are censored and men’s are not. For that very reason, I passionately do not want to ask for anyone’s consent.

Breasts are overly sexualized. I’ve said that a thousand times. Their function is far more than just sexual.

Also, male nipples are the same as female nipples. All fetuses develop nipples. The chromosome contributed by the father determines whether or not those nipples end up on a flat chest or on a set of breasts.

So why are men’s nipples socially acceptable to reveal without asking for consent? Why can men post topless photos on Instagram and I cannot?

The gray areas

I understand that there are gray areas here and that this issue can’t be solved with one simple answer. Little details matter:

• What’s the purpose of the photo?
• What is the subject doing?
• Where are you posting it?
• What’s the tone? If it’s sexual, is it pornographic or just a beautiful, sexy pose?
• Where’s the point where a photo goes over the line?
• Who determines what that line is?

It’s enough to give you a headache.

But remember that there are some incredibly racy photos of male actors and models out there in magazines and on the internet in which the men are clothed only in jeans or underwear with the waistband dropped down to their pubic bone, their expression like a feral jungle cat on the prowl for his next mate.

Why do I have to ask for consent (and be denied by most social media platforms) to show my naked back and some side boob, sans nipple?

Do we really have to ask for consent?

In short, yes. (I think. Maybe.)

If you aren’t sure, ask. If it’s a DM or email, definitely ask. If you’ve never posted a nude or semi-nude on your social media account, maybe give everyone a warning that it’s coming. If it’s the first time you’re going to send out a nude in a newsletter, maybe send a censored version that they can click on that will take them to the uncensored version on your website, and make it clear that there might be more photos like that in the future, in case anyone wants to unsubscribe ahead of time.

Let’s be thoughtful and considerate while we are all building these new beliefs and behaviors around our sexuality and respect the fact that everyone’s boundaries are different.

But also, it’s important to balance that with sharing in a way that affirms women’s right to display their bodies how they want to, and to push back against the sexist censorship of the female nipple. Stir people’s curiosity about this issue. Push the envelope a little…or a lot. Dare to promote the freedom of the female nipple.

So no, I don’t think I should have to ask if I can show you my breasts. But also, in the current cultural climate, maybe yes, I should.

In other words…we still have a lot of work to do.

© Yael Wolfe 2020

*Please note that this essay is not a response to the thoughtful reader’s comment mentioned above, though that comment did inspire me to think about this issue quite deeply which in turn, led me to write this. Thank you, reader!