Note: This article discusses rape and abuse.
I remember the shock when I realized that my ex had raped me. And that it had taken me nearly two years to the day to realize that what had transpired that evening had been rape. I had always been uncomfortable about what had happened. But it’s not like I had said “no” so it couldn’t have been that bad, right?
My journey to sexuality educator and researcher arose in part because of what happened that evening, because of what happens to so many disabled people like myself. In 2018 many people became more aware of the abuse that disabled people often experience with the NPR special series Abused and Betrayed. As this was only a few years after I had escaped an abusive relationship this series impacted me a lot. To know that there were others like me and that I was not alone felt comforting but also distressing. Why did so many people have to experience these things?
As I searched for answers one theme appeared again and again: A lack of sexuality education. So I threw myself into promoting access to sexuality education for disabled people. Over the years I have worked with multiple organizations in reviewing and updating sex ed classes, helping people get trained to teach sex ed classes, and teaching sex ed to other disabled people myself. As a disabled survivor it is wonderful to see that there is more and more attention to the importance of sex ed for disabled people.
But I am writing this blog post because it is important that all of us think about what sorts of things are being taught in sex ed classes made for disabled people. In my experience sex ed classes that are made for Autistic people in particular tend to focus a lot on teaching Autistic people to mask in social situations with the idea that this will make them less likely to be abused. As an Autistic person I don’t think this kind of ableism is very surprising, given how often Autistic people are blamed for the harm they experience or are told to try harder to appear neurotypical—as though being visibly Autistic is justification for abuse. And yet even with the growing awareness of the harms caused by ABA therapy (which is also sometimes used in a sex ed context) I have rarely seen this approach to sex ed for Autistic people named as ableism.
Furthermore, the fact that so much of the sex ed made for Autistic people emphasizes compliance with neurotypical expectations, as opposed to advocating for their own boundaries and needs, feels particularly painful in light of my experiences as a survivor. While I have not personally received that sort of sex ed, the constant expectation to adapt and comply with the expectations of others in relationships has affected me greatly. Messages like “You’re expected to comply with sex so just go along with it” were common for me. So of course when my ex raped me, my first thought was that I should do my best to be ageeable, because I would doing something wrong if I voiced my distress.
While I don’t blame myself for internalizing those messages, it does feel cruel that sex ed made for Autistic people often claims that these kinds of experiences happen because of some lack of awareness of social rules. On the contrary, from my professional experience I would say that many Autistic people are keenly aware of the social expectation that they must forgo their own needs and boundaries for the sake of others. And while many Autistic people learn to do these things in the name of survival, this is apparently missed entirely by much of the sex ed that is made for them.
I would love to see sex ed for Autistic people that helps them to correctly identify that people who abuse them are responsible for their actions. That consent matters more than social expectations. That their needs and boundaries are not things that should be adjusted simply to maintain the comfort of others. I would also like to see sex ed for Autistic people that is created and taught by Autistic people, rather than the seemingly endless number of non-Autistic professionals who style themselves as saviors for providing this education regardless of the harm caused.
And while this post is about sex ed for Autistic people, addressing the abuse that Autistic people experience means that the general population needs sex ed that helps them to unpack ableist and other oppressive biases. Biases such as the fetishization of neurodivergent femmes, also known as the manic pixie dream girl trope, or that they are doing Autistic partners a favor by non-consensually taking on the hierarchical role of a teacher in order teach normative social behavior. It is important to recognize that just as short skirts do not cause rape, being openly Autistic is not an invitation for others to abuse or take advantage of a person.
But above anything, I am dreaming of sex ed that is more than just problem-focused. In my work I often use the phrase “pleasure as prevention,” because I have noticed that conversations about pleasure are often separate from consent—but I don’t believe that these things are truly separate. In fact, I would argue that teaching pleasure is an essential part of teaching consent, because so many Autistic people are taught that what feels good and right in their body does not matter, whether that is forcing eye contact or using spoken language. To this end, I would like to see sex ed made for Autistic people that centers the ways in which Autistic people experience pleasure, romance, sexuality, and relationships rather than teaching conformity to normative expectations. For instance, most sex ed programs teach monogamy as a default, yet in my work I have heard from many Autistic people who say they wish they had learned about non-monogamy earlier in life.
Sex ed for Autistic people needs to provide information about how to identify and advocate for your needs in interpersonal relationships. I’ve lost track of the number of times past partners have ignored my requests to have my sensory needs respected, on the grounds that my needs were too unexpected for them to recognize as valid. And because I had spent so much of my life feeling like I should be grateful if anyone should want to be in a relationship with me at all, the continued protestations from past partners when I shared my needs really did give me the sense that I must be doing something wrong—because they were already doing me a favor by tolerating me in the first place. This included even telling me what gender I should call myself, or how I should dress if the way that I saw myself veered from normative expectations.
In the decade since I got away from that ex, the focus of my work has shifted from thinking solely about how to prevent this kind of abuse from happening to considering how we can uplift and normalize the pleasure and autonomy of Autistic people. To celebrate all of the ways in which authentic Autistic intimacy is powerful and beautiful, whether it is expressing sensory needs through kink or using multiple forms of communication to give on-going consent during sex. As a young person I deserved better than the neuro-normative messages I received that told me I had to be compliant with social expectations for everything from gender to being available for sex whenever and however it was expected. Future generations of Autistic people deserve better.
More of Morrigan’s work in sex ed:
- Panel Discussion on Domestic Violence and Autism
- The Politics of Violence: Systemic Discrimination Against LGBTQ+ People with Disabilities
- Providing Trauma Informed Care to Autistic Adults
- The Consent Academy (Morrigan teaches about consent, neurodiversity, and kink every year)
