This past weekend I attended Reading Festival. As I was waiting for the main acts on several days, including Sombra and Chase & Status, adverts were being played on the big screens. One of those adverts was about consent and, specifically, the word “no”.
What struck me about the advert was how much meaning could sit behind such a small word.
“No” can mean no. It can mean, “Let’s stop.” It can mean, “I don’t want to continue.” It can mean, “I feel pressured and I want this to end.”
But “no” can also mean, “Not right now.” Someone might have initially thought they wanted to be intimate but subsequently changed their mind.
It can mean, “I’ve tried this and I’ve realised that I don’t like it.”
It can mean, “Not like that.”
It can mean, “I’d prefer to try something different.”
And, importantly, “no” does not become “yes” simply because somebody has pressured, persuaded, worn down or manipulated another person until they eventually agree.
For me, this advert demonstrated something much broader about psychological development and something that I think therapy can be particularly useful for when working with boys and men.
Therapy gives us an opportunity to deconstruct meaning.
What does a word actually mean?
Many of us walk through life carrying definitions that we have inherited rather than definitions that we have consciously developed.
We learn what relationships are supposed to look like from our parents. We learn what being a man is supposed to mean from our fathers, brothers, peers, teachers, television, music, pornography, social media and wider culture.
We learn what success means.
We learn what failure means.
We learn what strength means.
We learn what weakness means.
We learn what love means.
We learn what sex means.
We learn what responsibility means.
We learn what respect means.
We learn what being a provider means.
We learn what it means to be a good boyfriend, husband, father, son or friend.
But very rarely do we stop and ask ourselves:
Who taught me this definition?
And perhaps even more importantly:
Is this definition actually accurate?
There is a tendency to assume that because we have known something for a long time, it must therefore be true.
But familiarity is not the same thing as truth.
A belief can be familiar and still be inaccurate.
A definition can be inherited and still be immature.
A rule can have helped us survive one environment while becoming completely inappropriate in another.
This is one of the reasons I think therapy can be particularly valuable for boys and men.
It creates a space in which we can take some of these assumptions apart.
The elementary version of ourselves
I often think that many of us go through life with what I would describe as an elementary or GCSE-level understanding of some extraordinarily complicated aspects of being human.
We were given the basics.
We were given enough information to get through the lesson, pass the exam and move on.
But human beings are considerably more complicated than the lessons we were given.
Take sex and relationships as an example.
Many people receive some form of sex education at school. But that education necessarily has limitations. There is an enormous amount more to sexuality, intimacy and relationships than anatomy, contraception and sexually transmitted infections.
A psychosexual therapist, for example, may have to develop knowledge across biology, psychology, neuroscience and sexual functioning. They may work with erectile difficulties, desire, arousal, orgasm, pain, anxiety, shame, trauma, communication, relationship dynamics and questions surrounding safety and consent.
There is an enormous amount to understand.
And that illustrates something important.
Education has levels.
You can understand something at a basic level and still have an enormous amount left to learn.
The same applies to relationships.
A person might understand that consent means someone agreeing to sexual activity. But what does consent actually mean when somebody becomes uncomfortable halfway through?
What does it mean when somebody initially says yes and then changes their mind?
What does it mean when somebody agrees because they are frightened of disappointing their partner?
What does it mean when somebody repeatedly asks until the other person eventually gives in?
What does it mean when someone says, “Not that”?
These aren’t merely questions about vocabulary.
They are questions about power, safety, communication, autonomy, boundaries and psychological development.
And if we do not have the language to describe these experiences, it becomes much harder to communicate them.
When men don’t have the language
This is particularly important when working with boys and men.
There are men who know that something is wrong but cannot explain what it is.
There are men who feel uncomfortable but cannot articulate why.
There are men who feel overwhelmed but only know how to say, “I’m stressed.”
There are men who are frightened but describe themselves as angry.
There are men who feel rejected but describe themselves as humiliated.
There are men who feel lonely but tell themselves they simply want to be left alone.
There are men who want more affection from their partner but interpret that desire as weakness.
There are men who want to renegotiate the responsibilities in their relationship but believe that changing the arrangement means they have somehow failed.
Sometimes the problem isn’t that the man has no feelings.
The problem is that he has never been given an adequate vocabulary for those feelings.
And without language, communication becomes incredibly difficult.
The invisible contracts we live by
Relationships are full of invisible contracts.
I will do this.
You will do that.
I will provide.
You will care.
I will make the decisions.
You will support me.
We will have sex.
We will spend our weekends together.
You will look after the children.
I will work.
You will manage the household.
We will see each other’s families.
We will behave in a particular way.
Many of these agreements are never explicitly negotiated. They simply emerge.
Perhaps they came from our parents.
Perhaps they came from religion.
Perhaps they came from culture.
Perhaps they came from previous relationships.
Perhaps they came from what we saw growing up.
Perhaps they came from what we were told a “real man” was supposed to do.
And for a while, these invisible contracts might work.
But people change.
Circumstances change.
Bodies change.
Careers change.
Children arrive.
Children grow up.
Parents become ill.
People lose jobs.
People gain jobs.
People develop different interests.
Sexual desire changes.
Mental health changes.
Financial circumstances change.
Priorities change.
The relationship itself changes.
The problem is that sometimes the people within the relationship change while the invisible contract does not.
And this is where conflict can emerge.
The importance of renegotiation
One of the things I think therapy can teach boys and men is that relationships are not necessarily fixed arrangements.
They require renegotiation.
What worked five years ago might not work today.
What worked before having children might not work after having children.
What worked when both partners were working full-time might not work when one person changes career.
What worked when both people had high levels of sexual desire might not work when that changes.
What worked when somebody was emotionally well might not work when they are struggling.
Renegotiation does not necessarily mean that the relationship is failing.
Sometimes renegotiation is precisely what allows a relationship to survive.
This is where the word “no” becomes psychologically interesting.
“No” can sometimes be a boundary.
But it can also be the beginning of a conversation.
“No, I don’t want to do that anymore.”
“No, I don’t want our relationship to work like this anymore.”
“No, I can’t continue taking on all of these responsibilities.”
“No, I don’t feel comfortable with that.”
“No, I don’t agree.”
“No, I need something different.”
The mature response isn’t necessarily to interpret every “no” as rejection.
Sometimes it is an invitation to understand.
Therapy as a place to redefine
This is one of the reasons I believe therapy for boys and men needs to be more than simply helping someone feel better.
Sometimes therapy needs to help a man think differently about what words mean.
What does “strong” mean?
What does “weak” mean?
What does “respect” mean?
What does “success” mean?
What does “love” mean?
What does “masculinity” mean?
What does “responsibility” mean?
What does “failure” mean?
What does “no” mean?
What does “yes” mean?
What does “I don’t know” mean?
And perhaps one of the most important questions:
Who decided that these words had the meanings I currently give them?
Therapy allows us to examine those definitions rather than automatically obey them.
A man may discover that what he has called strength throughout his life has actually been emotional suppression.
He may discover that what he called independence was actually an inability to trust other people.
He may discover that what he called confidence was sometimes defensiveness.
He may discover that what he called anger was sometimes hurt.
He may discover that what he called loyalty was sometimes an inability to establish boundaries.
He may discover that what he called responsibility was actually carrying far more than was reasonably his to carry.
And once the meaning changes, behaviour can change.
Psychological flexibility
I think this is increasingly important because we live in an extraordinarily complex world.
The environment around us is constantly changing.
Technology changes.
Work changes.
Relationships change.
Gender expectations change.
Family structures change.
Economic conditions change.
Social expectations change.
The way people communicate changes.
The roles that men and women occupy change.
The expectations placed upon fathers, partners, employees and individuals change.
To function effectively within this environment requires a degree of psychological flexibility.
We need to be able to say:
“This is what I previously believed. But perhaps I need to reconsider it.”
That isn’t weakness.
It is development.
There is a difference between having principles and being psychologically rigid.
A principle can guide you.
Rigidity can imprison you.
The psychologically flexible person is capable of retaining their values while reconsidering the behaviours and assumptions through which those values are expressed.
That is an incredibly important distinction.
A man can still value responsibility without believing he has to do everything himself.
He can value strength without believing he must never cry.
He can value commitment without believing he has to tolerate everything.
He can value masculinity without believing masculinity requires emotional silence.
He can value sexual intimacy while understanding that consent can be withdrawn at any point.
He can love somebody while accepting that their needs may change.
He can care about someone while saying no.
We are constantly renegotiating ourselves
Ultimately, I think we are all engaged in a continuous process of renegotiation.
We renegotiate our relationships.
We renegotiate our responsibilities.
We renegotiate our identities.
We renegotiate our boundaries.
We renegotiate our understanding of ourselves.
And we renegotiate the invisible contracts that exist between ourselves and the people around us.
Therapy can provide a space for that renegotiation.
It can allow a boy or man to take the words he has inherited and ask whether they still fit.
Sometimes the work is not about learning an entirely new language.
Sometimes it is about discovering that the words we have been using for years were never quite describing what was actually happening.
Perhaps “anger” was grief.
Perhaps “weakness” was vulnerability.
Perhaps “failure” was learning.
Perhaps “independence” was loneliness.
Perhaps “respect” was fear.
Perhaps “love” was control.
Perhaps “responsibility” was obligation.
And perhaps “no” was never simply one word.
Perhaps “no” was a boundary, a feeling, a request, a change of mind, a desire for safety, a rejection of something specific, or an invitation to stop and listen.
The work of therapy is sometimes to slow down enough to ask:
What does this actually mean?
And then:
What would it mean if I understood it differently?
That is not just therapy.
That is psychological development.
And for boys and men who have spent much of their lives following definitions that were handed to them, learning that they are allowed to redefine those meanings can be profoundly liberating.