Let’s start with this. If you are unable to have the safe sex and sexually transmitted infection (STI) talk with your partners, for any reason, stop being sexually active right now. I’m not joking. This basic level of self-care and sexual mindfulness is mandatory—not just for good sex, but for any sex at all. Anyone who has been diagnosed with an STI or had an unwanted pregnancy will tell you that there is no unprotected sex that feels good enough to make it worth it. There is no reason to contract something, transmit something on to someone else, or need to have an abortion to learn the value of safe sex. Safe sex is easy and it can also be sexy.
If we keep our focus on doing no harm, we are much more likely to get what we want out of a relationship. For some, doing no harm may mean being monogamous, while for others it might mean celebrating your partner’s sexual relationships with someone else. You need to get clear on what is authentically right for you and what is right for the relationship. This requires deep self-introspection and the ability to communicate with your partner in a loving and open way. Discussing safe sex and consent at the beginning of a relationship (or before giving your acting class crush a blowjob in the bathroom at a party) sets you up, from the gate, to do no harm.
Because it can be challenging for many folks to discuss safe sex and consent, this can be a place where checking out occurs. Wanting to just get to the good stuff and avoid the uncomfortable sets the stage for crossed boundaries and regrets. To have good and mindful sex, you need to show up for all of it, including the before and after.
I grew up during the AIDS crisis—I knew from a young age that having unsafe sex could have deathly consequences. Even so, it took a few close calls before I really learned to take care of my body during sex. Part of what I had to learn was how to talk about safe sex and sexual histories. By the time I was sixteen, I was skilled in this conversation, and though it was still awkward and uncomfortable to have it, I did anyway. Now I find “the talk” to be fun and even kind of hot. Having that conversation means you are going to be having sex sooner rather than later! It’s part of the foreplay. It also means that you love and respect yourself and that the person you are talking to feels the same way about themselves.
The first step is to go get tested. Get tested for any and all STIs. That way you know where you are starting. If getting tested brings up fear for you, use FOCUS ON SELF to deconstruct the fear and POSITIVITY BOOST to soothe and comfort yourself. Then, go get tested even if you are still feeling afraid. You can bring a friend and your mindfulness practice with you. Stay in touch with your thoughts and emotions leading up to the testing, during the testing, while you are waiting for the results, and when you receive the results. Tracking your mental and emotional experience will help in keeping anxiety at bay. Here’s an STI Test Anxiety Meditation for you.
There can also be a lot of anxiety that comes up while waiting for your results. I’ve often heard people say that they haven’t had any sex at all since their last test, but are still worried while waiting to hear back. This is a perfect example of unnecessary suffering and nonfunctional thinking. If this is happening to you, it’s a great opportunity to observe the tyranny of the mind. These thoughts pull you in but can do you no good. The tests have been taken, and you’ll get the results. There is no need to think and think and think about it. Notice how your mind says otherwise. You don’t have to try to stop those thoughts. Just acknowledge them and then choose to focus elsewhere. You are not those obsessive and pointless thoughts, and you don’t have to believe them.
Once you have your results, you are ready to have the talk. It is best to talk in person, rather than by phone or text. So much is communicated nonverbally, and trust and intimacy is built through encounters like this. Again, use your meditation in action practice to stay present during this conversation. Remember that it’s okay to feel uncomfortable. Discomfort won’t kill you.
If either of you has a current STI, it will be a sensitive subject, so be gentle with yourself and your partner. For some, having sex with a person who has an STI is a nonnegotiable no. If you find yourself on either end of that situation, be compassionate and kind to yourself and your partner. For others, this won’t be a problem, but discussions about how to protect the uninfected partner will be needed. The good news is having an STI does not mean you will transmit it to your partner. If you take precautions, and special care with any high-risk activities, your partner won’t have much to worry about.
Having the talk is a way that you can put mindfulness and self-love into action. You are taking steps to protect yourself and getting to know the person you are about to share your body with. If you attempt to discuss safe sex with someone and they are unable to look you in the eye and engage in an adult conversation, move on. You’ve dodged a bullet. You deserve a partner who loves themselves and respects you enough to value safe sex. However, it’s possible that a potential partner might need support to talk about sex, so don’t be too quick to judge. If there is willingness to connect and communicate, that means a lot, even if it is uncomfortable.
Once you get past the STI part of the talk, move on to what method of protection you’d like to use. There are tons of options based on what kind of relationship you have. If you are monogamous, protection against STIs may not be necessary at all, but make sure you are both on the same page before putting away the prophylactics.
I’m at the age when all of my friends are popping out kids, or trying their best to do so. I’ve only recently started considering the possibility of making a baby. Eighteen years is a long time to be responsible for another human, and from what I hear it’s actually a life sentence. Nonetheless, I think I’m almost ready to become a mom. Thanks to practicing mindful and safe sex I get to plan for this big step, rather than have it thrust upon me by a surprise visit from the Stork. This is one darn good reason for having safe sex.
Other than a birth control malfunction, no one should be blindsided by that oversized bird carrying a bundle of joy. Don’t kid yourself. You do have the power and intelligence to be mindful in your sex life. Not using birth control because you were in the moment and forgot is a total cop out. We live in an age where there are many forms of birth control, including the morning after pill.
Everyone makes mistakes, and sometimes (very rarely if used properly) birth control doesn’t work. You are then faced with a choice. Making a choice like this will be much less agonizing if you have a mindfulness practice in place. I didn’t always have these tools, and I didn’t always practice safe sex. There were consequences. Years later, meditation helped me to address and process the choice I made.
When I was twenty, I got pregnant. I had a partner who I was monogamous with, and we often didn’t use birth control. I just pushed the thought of unwanted pregnancy to the back of my mind. I didn’t have a mindfulness practice at that time, and it was easy for me to lie to myself. Once you start to wake up, you stop being able to be dishonest with yourself for the most part. But at twenty I was fully capable of pulling the wool over my own eyes, and I thought I could get away with not having safe sex.
When I found out I was pregnant, there was no question for me. I would not be bringing this fetus to term. Before I even revealed the news to my partner, I had already made the appointment. I was too early in my pregnancy to get an abortion, so I had to wait. During this time, I pushed down any fears or sadness and tried my best not to think about what was growing inside of me. The last thing I wanted to be was present or mindful with my body. I wanted to pretend that my body didn’t exist. Strangely, I didn’t drink or smoke while I waited to be able to have the abortion. I knew I wouldn’t be having the baby, but I guess I still wanted to protect it in some way.
I cried only twice: very briefly, on the morning of the procedure, and again when I woke up from the anesthesia. But anesthesia always makes me cry. I never actually processed the event or allowed for any grief. I was (and still am) strongly pro-choice, but that doesn’t mean that abortion isn’t a complicated and sensitive issue for me. At that time, I wasn’t capable of confronting the emotions involved with terminating my pregnancy. Ten years later, however, I was ready to take a look at that experience, and I happened to be on a Buddhist meditation retreat.
The first precept in Buddhism (and the sixth Commandment in Christianity) asks followers not to kill. The Buddhist meditation retreats I go to offer only vegetarian meals. Attendees are asked not to kill any spiders or flies they may find in their room, and to be aware of living creatures that may be underfoot. It’s not uncommon to see people carefully scooping up a bug that found its way to the middle of a walking path and placing it out of harm’s way. I am one of those people. I’ve never been a fan of killing bugs or anything else.
On this particular meditation retreat, I had been communing with all the creatures of the land. I had become especially fond of the lizards I had been seeing lounging in the sun each afternoon. Toward the last few days of the retreat, I was walking to the building that my room was in, and I nearly tripped trying to avoid stepping on a grasshopper. Suddenly, this thought crossed my mind: I am going out of my way not to kill a grasshopper, but I killed the beginnings of a human. I had made the choice to end a possible life. That life could have grown to become my child. This was the first time I had ever considered that truth.
I didn’t immediately turn in my pro-choice card or suddenly deeply regret the decision I had made a decade before. I didn’t turn on my twenty-year-old self and berate her. Instead, I began to explore the thoughts and emotion that arose as a result of this new perspective.
I spent a lot of time focusing my attention on my stomach and reproductive organs. I gently used my physical awareness to touch into emotions and trauma stored there from the abortion. I felt and heard what my body wanted me to know. I apologized to my uterus for the violation that it had experienced. I communicated with my body in a kind and curious way, listening to all it had to say. I offered myself unconditional love and soothed the sadness that arose.
It was lucky that I was at a retreat when the feeling about the abortion surfaced. I had lots of space to work with it and didn’t have to worry about cooking my own meals or going to work. When the abortion came up, I spent a good four hours in meditation, and spoke with one of the teachers at the retreat. She listened with the utmost compassion and then told me that she too had ended a pregnancy in her early twenties. Hearing that from a Buddhist nun was incredibly helpful. She asked if I would do it again, and my answer was (and still is) no, for personal and specific reasons.
We continued to talk and she suggested that I have a ceremony for the child that I chose not to have. When I returned home, I found that a ceremony was healing and offered closure. I lit some candles and spoke to the being that I chose not to bring into the world. Even though I do not regret the choice I made, it was important for me to touch the grief associated with the abortion.
If you have unprocessed feelings about an abortion, yours or your partner’s, it can be important to give yourself the time and space to work through them. People often have very polarized feelings about abortions—they are either all bad or all good. That doesn’t always reflect the full spectrum of our emotions, however. You can be pro-choice, like me, and still need to grieve an abortion. If you resist your grief because it doesn’t go along with your politics, you’re not being fully honest with yourself. For some, there may be no grief, and that’s okay too. But if you do need to process your experience of having an abortion, your meditation practice can help.
I used a practice similar to this as I was working through my thoughts and feelings about my abortion.
Please note: This may be something you want to explore with a teacher or therapist rather than on your own. Partners of women who have had an abortion can use a similar practice to work through this experience as well. Additionally, this is for use only if you have feelings coming up about a past abortion. I don’t recommend “digging” up emotions.
I didn’t have a mindfulness practice when I was twenty. If I had, my guess is that I wouldn’t have ever gotten pregnant. I’m sharing this story with you in part to show you how a past abortion can be processed using meditation. I’m also sharing it because this doesn’t have to happen to you. If you start being mindful today about your safe sex practices, you most likely will not have to face an unwanted pregnancy. Even if you are a strong supporter of the Roe vs. Wade decision, abortion shouldn’t be a form of birth control. Just a little bit of mindfulness will help you to put safety first. Accidents do happen, but mindfulness can make that less likely.
Using your method of birth control consistently and responsibly makes the chance of an unwanted pregnancy go down quite a bit. But there’s something that comes before condoms, dental dams, or any other safe sex tool. That is consent.
Having safe sex isn’t just about protecting yourself from STIs and pregnancy, it’s also about protecting yourself and your partners emotionally and physically. You can do this by practicing radical consent in all your sexual activities. That means saying and hearing yes before having sex of any kind. This is another of those non-negotiables in good sex, bad sex, and ugly sex. Consent is required for all sex.
When I was a teenager, “No Means No,” was a popular anti-rape slogan. But not saying No doesn’t necessarily mean Yes. And saying yes to sex doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind, and it doesn’t mean you are game for anything. Consent is required every time, and for any new sexual adventure.
I was talking with a friend recently about consent, and she said something that hit me to the core. She said, I was never raped, but there were tons of times I didn’t say yes. That sentence so perfectly encapsulated quite a few of my early sexual experiences. I’ve heard the same sentiments expressed by many others as well. Learning to ask for and give, or not give, consent is Good Sex 101. Listening for a Hell Yes, rather than settling for the absence of a No, is a good rule of thumb. “No Means No” is terribly outdated, and is being replaced with “Yes Means Yes,” a much more empowering and consent-based phrase.
Consensual sex is when everyone involved says Yes. If someone is too drunk to say yes, it’s not consensual. If someone is too young to say yes, it’s not consensual. If you are in a monogamous relationship and you have sex with someone else, your partner has not consented to that. So, in that way I think of cheating as sex without consent.
Honesty and mindful communication are needed to create clarity on what consent means to you. Bringing mindfulness to your sex life will help you to love yourself enough to say yes when you mean yes, and no when you mean no. It will also help you hear and respect your partner’s wishes. As obvious as consent might be to some, for others it’s a foreign concept. I didn’t understand consent at all when I started having sex. But why would I? I was just a kid.
When I was fourteen, I had fallen into a downward spiral of drugs, alcohol, and self-harm. My tumultuous home life had caught up with me, and by age twelve I was already smoking and drinking. In a few short years I had graduated to hard drugs and hallucinogens. I was rarely sober. I kept vodka in a water jug in my closet. I was always looking for a way to check out and drop into oblivion. Age fourteen is also when I started having sex. When I think back to the scrawny, wild child that I was, I just want to send her to rehab and tell her that everything will be okay. But at that age, the best I could do was look for love and attention through sex.
The first guy did ask me for my consent, but the next guy didn’t. He was twenty, six important years my senior. We were outside during the early morning hours, in a field, after a party. I was on LSD and had been drinking and smoking pot. I can only imagine that I must have been pretty out of it. I remember saying something about needing a condom, and him saying, I wouldn’t do anything bad to you. I guess that meant he wouldn’t give me an STI, but I’m not exactly sure. Then he had sex with me. I can’t remember it at all. I’m sure that I never said, Hell yes.
When I see a fourteen-year old girl today and think back on this experience, I shudder. I can’t fathom a grown man having sex with the skinny, drunk little teenager that I was back then. I guess he must have been an unhealthy and unhappy person. It wasn’t just once either. Since I was drunk or high most of the time, he continued to have sex with an intoxicated kid.
At the time I thought I was in love. I would sneak out of the house to see this man and have sex in his truck. Lie and say that I was sleeping over at a friend’s house and stay with him. I think this went on for a few months. I know that some family friends tried to end this relationship, but I was a stubborn girl. Once, I even went into a police station to ask if what I was doing was legal. The female cop behind the glass looked at me with concern and asked if I was okay. I mumbled something and ran out.
For the record, I came up positive for the human papilloma virus (HPV) shortly after the relationship ended. I found out that his ex-girlfriend had come down with the same thing prior to him being with me, and he had known. So that added yet another layer to how nonconsensual our sex really was. I was lucky that the strand of HPV I got cleared my system, never to reappear. The one good thing about the STI was that I was forced to learn how to have the safe sex talk at an early age.
So, was I raped? Though it legally was statutory rape, I don’t consider myself a rape survivor. But was it consensual? No. No. No. It took me many years to understand that, but now it is very clear to me. Not only was he an adult, while I was a child—I was also extremely intoxicated. I was not capable of consenting to sex. I also didn’t consent to getting an STD, and my requests for a condom were ignored. This wasn’t the only time I had sex without consent. Sadly, it happened many times throughout my teens and early twenties. There were also times when I had sex with someone who was clearly incredibly intoxicated. I’m not proud of that. Part of my making amends to those people is to never do that again with anyone else. Please keep in mind, it is up to each person to decide how they define their sexual experiences. What I don’t see as rape for me, you might see as rape for you. I don’t mean to define what rape is or is not, only to share my personal experience and perspective.
Today, it’s easy for me to only have consensual sex. Consent is a part of my safe sex regimen, which is based in mindfulness and honesty. When I was younger I didn’t value myself or my partners enough to truly practice safe sex, including consent. If that’s where you find yourself, please put sex on hold and focus on building self-esteem and self-love. Use your meditation practice to explore your feelings about safe sex and consent. You deserve safe, and consensual, sex every single time. We all do.
Real consent calls for real communication. This is especially true in the beginning of a relationship or during a first encounter. It’s better to go a little overboard with consent than skimp on it. I’m not suggesting that you ask and give permission for every move. I am a woman who likes to be kissed without being asked, but only if I’ve given my energetic consent. That can be a little subtle and requires an attuned and mindful partner. Each situation should be treated separately. With one woman I had sex with recently, I asked for consent every move I made moving toward sex. That felt right. With another woman I didn’t need to ask. I could tell from her energy that she wasn’t up for anything other than a sweet kiss or two. We need to use our mindfulness to be clear on what is needed with each partner. If you are unsure, I suggest that you always err on the side of too much consent. Remember that saying I’m not sure, let’s hold off on that for now is a great option if you aren’t sure of what you are wanting. There is no rush with sex. It’s not urgent, even if your body may think it is. You can take your time to make sure that all parties are fully on board for whatever is going down. Consent can be withdrawn at any time. Consent is fluid just like we are. There may be some aspects of it that don’t change much throughout a lifetime and others that change frequently. We are not solid and permanent in any way, including in our sexual tastes and boundaries. This is why it’s so important to continue to communicate about what you want and don’t want, even when you’ve been together for years.
Negotiations on consent are not just for new relationships. That conversation continues even after you think you’ve crossed every possible bridge. This becomes more obvious for those who are in non-monogamous relationships or who explore BDSM. Those rabbit holes can go deep, and become very subtle. I’ve been on both sides of nonconsensual sex acts with long-term partners. It’s not fun, and could have been easily avoided with better communication.
Your mindfulness practice will help you move through challenging conversations with ease. When you are first learning to negotiate sexual boundaries, it’s helpful to stay in touch with your body. Keep allowing sensations to arise and pass without tightening up around them. As you learn to accept what is happening in your body, it will find more freedom to say what you need to say. You will also find that your body gives you extremely clear messages about what it does and does not want. BASIC BODY AWARENESS and FOCUS ON EMOTIONS can be used in action when you are navigating consent.
Meditation is masterful at uncovering the emotions that we have been keeping under the surface. Observing your thoughts with FOCUS ON MIND will give you access to deeper layers of your consciousness, and eventually make the unconscious conscious. By practicing meditation every day, you increase the opportunities to wake up to your authentic desires—the first step toward authentic, consensual communication.
Getting your consent isn’t just your partner’s responsibility. Giving someone consent means knowing what you want and then being willing to speak it out loud. I can’t tell you how many times I forced myself to have sex when I didn’t really want to. I sometimes say that I was my worst abuser. Before I started meditating and healing my past traumas, I treated myself like trash. I didn’t even recognize that what happened to me in the field with that older guy was wrong. I had a lot to learn about self-love. I needed to learn to honor myself and my own sexual boundaries. I needed to learn to see and love myself. Part of the work is repairing any broken trust with yourself. When we betray ourselves, especially when sex is involved, we must rebuild trust.
A great way to build trust with yourself in matters of sex is to use the slogan, Yes Means Yes. This means only moving forward with a sex act if it’s a clear and confident yes. If you are feeling even a little unsure if you want to go further, you don’t. Even if your partner is superhot. Even if your partner is making it hard to resist. Even if some parts of you want nothing more than to fuck your partner for hours. It needs to be a full body, full mind, enthusiastic yes, before you take that next step. Each time you honor and care for yourself in this way, trust will grow. The same way trust must be earned with a partner, it has to be earned in your relationship with yourself. Treating your body (and your sweetheart) with love by respecting how you really feel will make safe sex a no-brainer.
Protecting yourself from STIs or unwanted pregnancy is an easy way to put self-love into action. If you don’t yet have enough self-love to know you deserve to be safe, take a break from sex and put the focus on yourself. By that I mean put the focus on loving yourself. We all know that safe consensual sex is the “right” thing to do, but what makes it right? And why don’t we do it?
What makes safe sex and consent right is that it is self-love in action. Self-love is always the right thing to do. The reason you don’t always practice safe sex and consent is that on some level you think you don’t deserve it. You think you don’t deserve it because you haven’t cultivated enough self-love to know that of course you deserve it.
Your mindfulness practice can show you just how lovable you are. When you choose to sit down and practice meditation, you are loving yourself. Some of that love comes from how good meditation is for you. It lowers your stress levels, helps you sleep better, gives you better concentration and focus, decreases inflammation and so on. Just like eating organic food, meditation is good for you. Meditation also offers love on another level. When you sit with your thoughts, emotions, and aches and pain you make friends with your mind and body. You begin to think more fondly of yourself. You begin to take it a little easier on yourself. You start to fall in love with your beautiful self.
Learning to love yourself (or really your many selves) is a spiritual path all on its own. If you just focused on loving and accepting yourself unconditionally for the rest of your life you’d be a spiritual powerhouse. You would also find that life got easier and easier. It’s amazing what someone who has self-love can accomplish. Careers explode, relationships flourish, and good sex abounds.
Every time you have safe sex or have an honest conversation about consent, you are putting self-love into action. Self-love is a state of mind, but it’s also a daily practice to bring into your external life. I encourage you to find new ways to love yourself every day.