Anyone who’s grown up in the age of internet porn will know – either first hand or from friends – that it’s not uncommon for someone you’re sleeping with to attempt to choke or slap you. But how do we set boundaries around these acts? Honey Wyatt asks sex therapist Bima Loxley for advice. 

Do it, see it, hear about it – we have to learn how to have sex somewhere. Many learn about sex from our families, before touching on the biology of it at school. But for horny teenagers who are curious about the ins and outs of it all, that’s not enough.

When you don’t know how to have sex, you go in search of any other information you can find. Given the proliferation of pornography on the internet, it’s no surprise that many of us turn to it to help form our embryonic perception of what sex should be like, and in turn emulate that in our own lives. Research by the NSPCC in 2017 reveals that 65% of 15 to 16 year olds have seen online pornography, with 53% of boys who had seen it claiming they thought it was ‘realistic’. 

This brings with it the potential for a lot of misunderstanding about consent and, more than that, what is actually pleasurable for the people involved. In the UK, 38% of women under 40 (3.6 million women) experience unwanted slapping, spitting, choking or gagging during sex. 

Bima Loxley (they/them), sex and relationship therapist and qualified sex educator, explains that porn is not necessarily to blame for this problem. Rather, it’s the lack of sex education and porn literacy [understanding what you’re seeing in porn] that can lead to negative experiences. 

When young people see something happening in porn, because of this lack of porn literacy, they might assume this is the default way to have sex. “Given that porn is not education and you don’t see behind the scenes of consent being taken and safe words, when you just see it happen (and it’s usually a man doing it to a woman), it’s never great,” they say. 

This is particularly a problem when mainstream porn depicts certain acts, like choking, slapping and spitting, that shouldn’t be recreated without knowing how to communicate what feels good for you, or the correct way of doing them. This is not to say that consensual and ethical porn doesn’t exist, but let’s be honest – teenagers are not searching, or paying, for that in their quest to satiate their appetite for sexual knowledge. 

“Assuming that people want to take part in these acts, or a lack of knowledge [otherwise] means there is no room for communication and to ask ‘Hey, do you like this thing? I’ve seen this thing, can we do it?’,” explains Loxley.

When one person then turns around and says they’re not into doing that specific thing, this can lead to feelings of shame: “probably shame on both ends, or denial on one end, or just shame in general from assuming wrong, or thinking that you should be doing something that you don’t want to be doing”. 

Not only do teenagers not necessarily understand that what they see during porn isn’t real, they’re then not taught how to set boundaries in their real sex lives. More than half of Gen Z in the UK and US report feeling uncomfortable setting boundaries during sex, while nearly a third claim they were never taught about responding to pressures to have it.  

“If you take into account the fight or flight system in your body when, for example, you’re slapped or someone has done a sexual act to you that you don't want to do, most people will not want to fight back and will freeze,” Loxley describes.

“That is a really common and valid reaction because freezing is safety. You don’t know, even if it’s a loved one, if you say no what will happen. They might push back harder, they might leave you.” Considering how difficult our biology and socialisation makes it, how do we teach young people to stand up for what they want and deserve during sex in the moment?

To avoid this kind of situation from happening it’s crucial we learn from an early age both how to ask for consent and to set boundaries; part of being able to do this is being aware of what feels comfortable in our body. For this, Loxley recommends mindfulness to all their clients.

“What I mean by mindfulness is the ability to connect with your authentic body and understand how it’s feeling,” they explain. “That often works best if you’re focusing on your breath and your five senses.” 

Once you start noticing these things, and how your body reacts in different circumstances – whether you’re feeling comfortable, or happy, or anxious, or neutral – this is the first step to learning how to distinguish between what you enjoy and don’t. “Then when a difficult scenario comes up you can say ‘this is it, this is that feeling that I really want to avoid, and I don’t feel authentic right now’.” 

The next step – communicating that to a partner – is more difficult, and is a habit that needs to be established over time. Loxley recommends daily affirmations of your boundaries: “I know what my body is saying and I’m valid in that, and I am going to speak out if someone is doing something to make me feel uncomfortable’.”

For those who have already been through trauma, this is a more difficult practice to master. “People with trauma are more likely to step back into it because their window of tolerance has shrunk and that’s not on the survivor. It’s how our brain and our body works: we suddenly become unable to recognise danger as much because we’ve already gone through it,” says Loxley.

In this case trying out what feelings, types of touch, and toys you like during solo sex can be helpful, before doing them with a partner. You can then practice – in the mirror, or to a friend – saying that out loud. Or, if you really find it difficult, send a text. 

Loxley adds that it’s important to acknowledge if you know you’re someone who puts yourself in sexual situations that don’t feel right. It’s never the victim’s fault, they clarify, but “we do have roles to play when it comes to sex and our own safety; only we can account for our own safety”. If you’re feeling so uncomfortable in a sexual situation that you don’t feel able to talk about consent or boundaries, it’s worth asking yourself why you are having sex with them, they advise. 

While some kinds of porn can erase the process of consent, and make it seem like all women will enjoy being slapped, choked, or spit on, it’s important to stand up for our own safety, and learn to recognise what we, and our partners, feel comfortable with. At the end of the day, says Loxely, “sex needs to be enjoyable, consensual, and authentic”. That doesn't necessarily come from replicating something we’ve seen in porn.