Slowing Way Down: The Power of Specific Asks

Part II, Chapter 10

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Chapter 10: Slowing Way Down: The Power of Specific Asks

June 10, 2021

Thursday

7:35am

I’m floating right now. The most incredible thing happened yesterday. About a week ago, I noticed someone at the dog park. I immediately wanted to talk to her, plus she had a husky, like Tennessee. I saw her there again a few days ago but we were far apart. Yesterday, I got to the park and there was an empty bench next to her so I decided to sit next to her. After a few minutes she talked to me. She asked me how old TN is. We started talking and had a lot in common, including gender stuff and design stuff. I asked her pronouns which made me nervous for some reason. I knew she was trans from the first time I saw her even though I would imagine that’s not often the case. She said she/they. I shared mine. After talking for a while, I asked her where she got her dog and it was the same place I got TN. “When?” January, at 8 weeks old. Her dog is Tennessee’s puppy!!! We figured it out and there’s no other possibility. At first they didn’t seem to recognize each other but then a shift happened and they really did. I’ve never seen TN play like that and she said she hadn’t seen hers play like that either. It was so cute and sweet. I got emotional.

Is this not magic? The person at the dog park and I shared that we had crushes on each other that we wanted to explore. Neither of us had done much touching in the last 15 months due to Covid. We agreed to start by touching pinkies. It was so intense. I could feel the touch all the way up my arm, like a hot pink electric current. There’s something so settling to the nervous system about that kind of clear permission and specificity.

When I get explicit permission to do something, I feel I can do it more fully, really lean into it. The more specific the permission is, the more I feel at ease. I feel confident that the other person knows what they’re agreeing to. I can also leave space to check in for feedback afterwards, if it fits. I can ask how it was, or if anything happened differently from what they’d thought I was going to do. These conversations help me learn how someone else communicates as we reach consensus on the meaning of the terms that we use. But even how much to check in like this can be agreed upon and negotiated. Some people really don’t like being asked these questions, especially in a sexual context. I usually like some of this at the beginning of a relationship, but as trust and intimacy is built, I like it less and less. I’d rather trust myself to speak up if I don’t like something than rely on anyone else to ask. I find this trust in myself to be much more empowering.

Moving from, "They should ask" to "I trust myself to voice and hold my boundaries" has made my life so much better. I'm not suggesting people shouldn't ask—I'm merely noticing that one of those options is something I can control, and the other I can't. I also know myself pretty well and know I will likely cross my own boundaries when I'm worked up and excited. I'm going to forgive myself for that afterwards, and ask with curiosity what I learned about myself. I’m going to use my judgment about whether or not I feel generally safe with this person. I ask myself if perhaps I can make some requests and set some boundaries that they couldn’t have known about without my telling them, or might have learned something contrary elsewhere with someone else at another point in their life.

When I trust myself to say no, and yes, and “Not right now,” or “I’m not ready for that, I’m finding that it changes the dynamics of my relationships. When the other person doesn’t explicitly ask, doesn’t constantly check on me to make sure I’m okay, it feels like trust. They trust that I know myself, that I don't do things I don't want to, and that makes them feel freer to explore and play. It also feels so much better to me than looking with a fine-toothed, hyper-vigilant comb for what someone else might be doing wrong.