After years of having sex against my will, I’m finally able to say “No”. Here’s how

One evening two summers ago, I was out having a drink with the guy I was dating at the time. One drink turned into several, followed by dinner and a stroll around the neighbourhood. I was really enjoying myself until he announced he had to find a chemist. When I asked why, his response was: “To buy condoms of course!” We had been seeing each other for a couple of months and had had sex several times, but all of a sudden, I felt like I didn’t have a choice; he had it in his mind that we were going to have sex tonight, and I couldn’t see a way out. For the rest of the walk, I built it up into this massive thing and the pressure of feeling I had to have sex, because my partner expected it, quashed any desire. By the time we reached his apartment, I was in full-blown panic mode. Still, I didn’t protest when he led me into his bathroom and began taking off my clothes, nor did I protest when he turned the shower on and guided me under it. In my mind, I had reached the point of no return and there was no going back, so I ignored my body’s screams of protest and went along with it. I can remember actually gritting my teeth during intercourse and praying that it would all be over soon. Needless to say, I left his place feeling disgusted and ashamed of myself, plus I had a burning resentment towards the man in question, despite the fact he had done nothing wrong; he simply couldn’t read my mind.

Why women struggle to say no
All throughout my twenties, I struggled to tell men when I didn’t want sex, especially when I was in a relationship, as I simply felt I didn’t have a good enough reason to and was worried a simple “no” would upset them. From the research I’ve done, it seems I’m not alone and that many other women have had this problem which led me to question: why do we have such a hard time saying no? One theory is that women have been raised to put the needs of others before their own, including in sexual relationships. This is backed up by a journal written on Gender and Helping Behavior, which talks about gender roles and the sex differences in helping and Psychology Today, who published an article entitled Why Women Have a Hard Time Saying No. In this article, the author claims that, as children, girls are taught to be nice and in touch with the feelings of others, more so than boys, for whom the priority is to “win”. Back in 2017, Jessica Bennett wrote an article in the New York Times, in which she spoke about how she and her female friends have found themselves saying yes when they really mean no. She refers to this begrudgingly consensual sex as “Cat Person sex”, after a short story by Kristen Roupenian, which Jessica labels “an utterly ordinary story of a modern-day sexual encounter between a woman and a man … not a story about consent, per se. But it is a window into the uncomfortable reality that clouds it.”

The ‘cat person’ in this story realises at the crucial moment that she is not actually attracted to the man she is about to have sex with, but finds herself unable to stop the process for fear that she’ll upset him and he’ll think less of her. The exact same thing happened to me when I met *Michael at the start of 2016, when I was living and working in Southeast Asia. We got along like a house on fire and ended up travelling together to the Philippines, making our first port of call a hostel that his friend ran in Cebu. Upon arrival, Michael informed me that he’d booked a room with a double bed, as it was cheaper than booking two singles. I felt that familiar feeling of dread creep over me and the voice in my head began asking “What will you do now? He’s booked a double bed so he’s obviously expecting to have sex with you”. I wasn’t able to enjoy the evening, and eventually I tried saying I wanted to remain friends and not take it any further. His reaction was worse than I could have expected — he actually began crying and saying it wasn’t fair, how could I expect him to be nothing more than a friend when he thought I was so cool and attractive, and was going to be sharing a bed with him? Ridiculous as it sounds, rather than dismissing the guy as a manipulative emotional blackmailer, I found myself pitying him and just two nights later, I ended up sleeping with him. Things went from bad to worse; feeling trapped and helpless, I found myself getting high most days just so that I could bear to sleep with Michael at night. Then, just as our trip was coming to an end and I was getting ready to return to my job, I received an email from the company informing me they would not need me to come back, and that was that. I began to stress, as I had no way of paying for accommodation without a job. Michael immediately offered me his place (with just the one bed) until I was able to find work elsewhere, and because I felt indebted to him, I continued to have sex with him against my will.

The difficulties of saying no in a relationship
I was never attracted to Michael, so it’s no surprise I found sex with him off putting. What baffled me were the times I was with somebody I liked, felt attracted to and had had great sex with in the past, but would suddenly stop wanting it. The first time this happened, I was in a relationship with a lovely man from Argentina for over two years. We were very much in love but ironically, the closer we got and the more I felt sex was expected of me, the less I wanted it. My feelings around sex with this particular man soon turned from excitement, to boredom, to sheer repulsion. Try telling your partner of two years that you’re repulsed by the idea of making love with him — nobody wants to hear that! So what could I do? In the end, we broke up and, although this wasn’t the principal reason for the break-up, I can’t pretend it wasn’t a contributing factor. This problem presented itself again and again, until I finally realised I had to address it, or all future relationships would be doomed. They say if nothing changes, then nothing changes, ie. if you keep doing things the same way, how can you ever expect a different outcome? So I decided to do something rather out of character when I went in to another relationship at the end of 2017, having been completely off sex since the last one abruptly ended. I was going to insist that we didn’t jump into bed straight away, but instead work on building intimacy and then, once we’d built a solid foundation for our relationship, begin having sex, even if it meant waiting two or three months. I was open about problems I’d had around sex in the past and my boyfriend was remarkably understanding and accepting of it all. As a result, when we did start having sex, I was more relaxed and comfortable, and less in my own head. Of course, it wasn’t always easy, as sometimes he would get frustrated or feel rejected, and I still struggled to be true to myself, but as long as we always discussed our feelings with the other rather than keeping them bottled up, we were usually able to resolve things. I saw this as a real breakthrough, it took away so much of the unnecessary tension I’d been carrying and I started to feel much better in myself.

A year later, I returned from Berlin and we split up (I’ve tried long distance enough to know it doesn’t work for me), but remain on good terms. Thinking I’d made progress, I felt confident when I began sleeping with *Samuel, who I started seeing towards the end of last year. Once again, I explained my issues around sex early on and he didn’t seem phased (though perhaps he simply wasn’t listening) but recently I uttered that fateful “no” word for the first time. His reaction? “Well that’s disappointing”. I brushed it off, even feeling some relief at the fact he’d been so honest and I didn’t have to second guess what he was thinking (besides, I can’t argue with how someone is feeling). The second time, however, he got in a huff and told me that he wasn’t used to this happening as his previous girlfriends were “always up for having sex”. That’s what you think, I was itching to say, but there was no point. He went on to say, “If you’re not going to have sex with me, you need to find ways to make it up to me, like giving me massages and making me cups of tea”. At this point, I was utterly speechless; does he really think I owe him something? Simply because I’ve turned down sex twice? He ended by commenting that Israeli women treat their men like kings, and English women could take a leaf out of their book. Unsurprisingly, I wasn’t really up for sex the following morning either. This was obviously the final straw for Samuel — he stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him, and went into the kitchen. I heard him making breakfast, then at some point he moved from the kitchen into the living room and began working. I saw this as my cue to get the hell out of there, so I packed my things, told him I was leaving and dashed out of the house, breathing a sigh of relief as I stepped on to the street, knowing that I would not be going back there ever again. Funnily enough, although this clearly wasn’t the desired outcome, I am grateful it happened, as I succeeded in staying true to myself against the odds and that’s major progress in my books.

How to turn it around
As a result of the work I’ve done on myself around these experiences, I am finally able to say no without feeling any guilt or the need to give a reason, though I must admit, I still find it daunting. I believe the Michaels and the Samuels of this world are put in our path to help us learn, grow and develop the strength to stand up for ourselves. Now, when I have sex, I do it out of genuine desire, not out of pity or because I’m trying to avoid a negative reaction from the other person. I’ve realised with time that facing someone’s disappointment or frustration is far less excruciating than dealing with those feelings of shame, disgust and self-loathing that come with betraying my body. Another article by Psychology Today, The Role of ‘One-Sided Sex’ in Relationships, touches on ‘pity sex’ and the negative effect it has on us and our relationships when we do this.

If you’re struggling to say no, it’s because you’re fearful of a particular outcome. Firstly, try to identify the fear — it may be that you’ll upset the other person, they won’t like you any more, or that you’ll become disconnected from them. The thing is, ultimately you’ll upset yourself, won’t like yourself, and will become disconnected from yourself if you continue to have sex against your will just to please someone else. Learn to communicate your fears with your partner, rather than sitting alone with them, and continue to talk openly about your feelings around sex throughout the relationship. You’ll find this brings great relief. Secondly, when going into a new relationship, resist the urge to jump into bed with the other person straight away and allow time for intimacy to build — this made a big difference for me. Naturally, it requires a fair bit of willpower, but in the long term it’s well worth it. Finally, remember this: nobody else’s sexual needs are great enough to warrant compromising your integrity for them.