I’m trying to process the high profile sexual assault cases in the media at the moment and what lessons can be learned.

I sometimes allowed myself to be treated like sexual confectionary when I was a teen. Through my actions I gave cues and permissions to my peers to admire and revere me. I dressed to impress, I danced knowing they were watching, I giggled and teased.

I sometimes made myself into an ice maiden when I was a teen. High necked jumpers, daggy flannel shirts, blatant put downs and shutdowns before the poor fellow could get a word in.

I sometimes said yes when I meant yes, yes when I meant no, no when I meant yes and even occasionally, although not actually that often, no when I meant no.

On reflection, I said no when I meant yes, a lot, and I think that’s what got me through, battered and bruised, with memories and pain that needed dealing with, but ultimately through to this space of beautiful intimacy and self sovereignty with my body that I can experience now.

But I now realise that the no when I meant yes can be incredibly hard for a testosterone fuelled male, who I have given every indication that I’m into, to absorb. The train has already left the station!

I now realise that I had the language of consent down pat (or reasonably down pat). It was a binary switch, yes or no. What I didn’t have down pat was the language of intimacy, or as I term it, the language of the soul.

I believe we are missing the magic in the no. The magic in what we are saying yes to, when we say no and the capacity this gentle dance of no to this but yes to this instead creates.

When I say no I am saying no to instant, soulless pleasure grabbing and empty self gratification. I am saying no to listening to what others say and no to the porn industries version of intimacy. What I am saying yes to is our bodies and their innate wisdom. Yes to the time to create connection, safety, intimacy that feeds your soul and leads to deep joy and fulfilment.