"Permission or consent is not just from removing clothes" says Dr Eve. (Illustration: Unsplash) 
Dear Dr Eve,
I am a first-year university student, and I am falling apart. I liked this older boy, we hung out a couple of times, then I invited him into my dorm bedroom. We started making out and it was fun… Until it was not fun anymore.
Suddenly, I was pinned down underneath him. I tried to wriggle away. I know I said “stop”, but he put his hand over my mouth, and next I felt a jabbing penetration. Soon after he left, and the next day, he sent a WhatsApp thanking me for a great time… and I said “me too”. This was followed by a few more emojis of smiley faces from me. What is wrong with me? Did I actually give consent?
Anonymous.
***
Hello Anonymous,
I’m heartsore about the shocking experience you endured. This was not consent; nothing you have described is what you, or any woman, agrees to when seeking connection, intimacy or sexual pleasure. It is hard to imagine anyone truly consenting to sex that feels rough, performative or one-sided – unless both people had spoken openly beforehand, with mutual understanding and clear agreement about what would happen.
That’s what real consent looks like.
What struck me is that, beyond the pain and violation, so much of your anguish now comes from the confusion and self-doubt, especially because of the WhatsApp messages and emojis you sent afterward.
Before we talk about the emojis, Anonymous, I want to gently acknowledge how complex and tender those early experiences of sexuality can be, especially when you’re still finding your way. Studies show most young people do not use the recommended “affirmative consent” (nor do they expect their partners to use it). “Affirmative consent” is defined as “explicit verbal consent” for most kinds of sexual activities: kissing, breast touching, genital touching and oral sex. They use implicit verbal communication: “Should I get a condom?” Rather than: “Do you want to have intercourse?”
In situations like yours, things often just keep moving forward on what some call the “sexual escalator”, where everything progresses without pause or check-in. And far too often now, that includes rough or even dangerous acts such as choking or deep thrusting, without care for arousal, readiness or consent.
Permission or consent is not just from removing clothes; the concept of consent used in many contemporary sexuality education curricula problematically oversimplifies sexual exploration and the power dynamics it is imbued with by asserting that consent is as simple as “Yes” or “No”.
Sexual experiences can be messy, especially when it comes to negotiating consent. The so-called “grey areas” that many people experience are often left unspoken and unexplored.
You wriggled. You said “stop.” And yet it continued.
If you’re revisiting that moment, when you invited him up, please know it’s not about blame. It’s about understanding the context.
Researchers talk about communication roadblocks, things that can make it hard to assert yourself clearly in the moment. These include fear of ruining the mood, embarrassment, inexperience, freezing up or past trauma that makes saying “no” feel unsafe or even pointless.
If any of this feels familiar, I hope it offers you some relief, some space to understand your response with compassion, not criticism. What happened was not your fault. And your survival, physically and emotionally, deserves to be honoured gently, not judged.
Anonymous, please don’t judge yourself for those WhatsApp messages.
They weren’t proof of consent; as a therapist, I would say that they were a way of coping, of trying to stay safe. In moments of trauma, we often do what we can to protect ourselves. That doesn’t make your experience any less real or any less violating.
You deserved care, respect, and safety; and none of this was your fault. DM
Have a question about intimacy, relationships, or connection? Send it to Dr. Eve, dreve@dreve.co.za – she may answer it in an upcoming column. You are welcome to indicate if you would prefer to remain anonymous.