A recent experience with a person of the opposite sex made me wonder how many women and men my age (23 to 38) have encountered moments with the same or opposite sex where the intimacy escalated without verbal consent. Not by means of forceful and unwanted penetration but situations where first base turns into second base in a blink of an eye.
In these situations, I've felt uncomfortably awkward and like I was obligated to kick things up a notch when this was never my intention to begin with. Recently, I found myself retracing my steps after a night of drinks escalated from networking to heavy kissing and petting.
It's a Thursday night in North Hollywood and I'm meeting, let's call him Gregg, at a bar near Little Armenia. I agreed to go out for drinks with Gregg at my friend's job. Originally, I thought he asked me out for drinks to network because that's what people in LA do, we get drinks with each other and talk business. This is what I thought this was.
I showed up at a bar and found Gregg saving me a seat. I extend a hug, sit down, and look over the menu full of beer and wine options. Last year I discovered consuming products with brewer's yeast exacerbates a skin condition I've had for over a decade called Hidradenitis Suppurativa (HS). So, because of this, I suggest we go to a bar with a wider selection.
We found a speakeasy-like establishment down the street. The room is dimly lit. In the middle of the floor is the bar with stools and tables against the wall. I order a margarita and he orders some specialty drink on the menu. I reach to pay for my drink when he says he's got it with me being jobless and all. I kind of cut my eyes and then laughed it off.
We find a seat at one of the tables against the wall. We start talking about our careers and ambitions as we sip on spirits. At this point I'm feeling nice. Suddenly, I feel his leg is rubbing against mine.
The energy has clearly shifted. I found him attractive, so I didn't pull my leg away, however it was still awkward for me.
I thought this was a platonic meeting of the minds but clearly it's a little bit deeper than that. In an attempt to not let my awkwardness show, I start talking about astrology and how crazy it is we were both Leos. He buys another round of drinks and then asks if I'm hungry. He suggests we grab the food and take the food back to his apartment.
I know what you're thinking at this point, if I didn't want to have sex, then why did I agree to go back to his apartment? Well, I love watching Netflix and eating Thai with company, that's why. Plus, as I said, I found him attractive so I wasn't opposed to spending more time with him. In fact, I liked that he took charge in the flow of the night.
We ordered Thai to-go from a restaurant down the street. The waiter says it'll be 15-20 minutes so, we decide to go back to the bar for another drink. By this time I'm tipsy, but not sloppy drunk. We pick the food up, hop in a shared ride and head to his apartment a few blocks from the bar. I chill on the couch while he turns on Netflix. He hands me an edible and asks me to roll a jay.
After a few puffs, we shotgun. A shotgun when smoking is when one person inhales smoke to blow in another person's mouth. After a few rounds of this, we start kissing passionately. I don't know if it was the mutual attraction, the substances or both but I felt myself opening up even though he didn't ask me if I wanted to kiss. He assumed.
I found myself on top of him in the middle of an impassioned kiss when I remembered his roommates were home. He says we can go into his room. I hesitantly look at him and then to the bedroom. I didn't want to give the wrong impression. I especially didn't want to start something I had no intention on finishing. But I also wasn't opposed to continuing our make-out session. So, I went to the bedroom.
As we lay on the bed, we start kissing again and all of a sudden I hear a zipper come down and feel his hand guiding mine to hold his flaccidness. I pause and tell him I don't want to have sex to which he responds, "We can do other things besides have sex." This is where my passion turned to discomfort and I knew I had to get out of this situation. So, I say I have to use the bathroom.
In the bathroom, I look in the mirror and wonder when I consented to second base? I asked myself if I should have come back to his apartment? Did my nonverbal cues provide consent? Upon entering the bedroom again he was back in the living room eating the Thai I had completely forgotten about at this point. I was relieved.
I sat on the couch to watch Sex Ed while he ate his Thai and answered work emails. I sensed he was no longer interested. He says he's going to bed soon which is code for it's time for you to go home. I took the hint and ordered a ride. He escorted me out and said he had a good time. I said I did too, possibly out of obligation. It was a good time until we got to the bedroom. I haven't talked to him since.
After all was said and done, I realized this isn't what I want intimacy to look like in my life. I like that he was forward, but what I didn't like is that this boldness turned into assumptions which made for an awkward night for me.
What I truly wanted was for Gregg to ask for consent at every step like he asked if I wanted another drink or wanted to grab food or wanted to go back to his apartment.
Some reading this might say consent was given when I didn't pull my leg away or when I went to his apartment and laid in his bed. However, consent is defined "as a voluntary, enthusiastic, and clear agreement between the participants to engage in specific sexual activity," according to Healthline. I agreed to drinks, food, and to go back to his apartment, watch Netflix and make-out.
Everything else was assumed and not implied.
If you ever find yourself in my position, talk about your boundaries before they get a chance to whip it out. Be clear about your intentions every step of the way. Express you would like to take things slow when it comes to having sex but are open for intimate exchanges outside of that.
If you find yourself being a Gregg, know that unless consent is clear, ongoing, coherent, and voluntary then you have no business exposing yourself to someone. Any type of sexual activity without consent, including touching, fondling, kissing, and intercourse, is a form of sexual assault and may be considered a crime.
It may be awkward at first to ask for consent every step of the way, but this is the first step in making sure everyone's boundaries are respected. One of the many ways to have this discussion is by asking simple questions like, "Can I kiss you? Can I put your/my hand here? Can I take this off? Does it feel good when I do [insert action]?"
Consenting under the influence can be tricky because for example, when I was under the influence I was cognitively aware enough to give consent. However, there are some scenarios where one or both parties are sloppy drunk and incoherent which, legally, consent cannot be provided. There's a study showing a link between excessive alcohol consumption and a risk for committing sexual assault. It says approximately one half of sexual assaults involve alcohol consumption by the perpetrator, the person who's been assaulted, or both.
When under the influence but cognitively aware, I think it's extremely important to talk about your boundaries. Know that if you're assaulted under the influence, it is in no way your fault. Women and men can be assaulted regardless of the blood alcohol level. If you find yourself in a situation where you initially wanted to have sex or go to second base but are having second thoughts, you have a right to disengage and the other person has an obligation to respect your decision. There's way too much at stake to assume. We must protect each other.
xoNecole is always looking for new voices and empowering stories to add to our platform. If you have an interesting story or personal essay that you'd love to share, we'd love to hear from you. Contact us at submissions@xonecole.com.
Featured image by Shutterstock
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Amber Riley has the type of laugh that sticks with you long after the raspy, rhythmic sounds have ceased. It punctuates her sentences sometimes, whether she’s giving a chuckle to denote the serious nature of something she just said or throwing her head back in rip-roarious laughter after a joke. She laughs as if she understands the fragility of each minute. She chooses laughter often with the understanding that future joy is not guaranteed.
Credit: Ally Green
The sound of her laughter is rivaled only by her singing voice, an emblem of the past and the future resilience of Black women stretched over a few octaves. On Fox’s Glee, her character Mercedes Jones was portrayed, perhaps unfairly, as the vocal duel to Rachel Berry (Lea Michele), offering rough, full-throated belts behind her co-star’s smooth, pristine vocals. Riley’s always been more than the singer who could deliver a finishing note, though.
Portraying Effie White, she displayed the dynamic emotions of a song such as “And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going” in Dreamgirls on London’s West End without buckling under the historic weight of her predecessors. With her instrument, John Mayer’s “Gravity” became a religious experience, a belted hymnal full of growls and churchy riffs. In her voice, Nicole Scherzinger once said she heard “the power of God.”
Credit: Ally Green
Riley’s voice has been a staple throughout pop culture for nearly 15 years now. Her tone has become so distinguishable that most viewers of Fox’s The Masked Singer recognized the multihyphenate even before it was revealed that she was Harp, the competition-winning, gold-masked figure with an actual harp strapped to her back.
Still, it wasn’t until recently that Riley began to feel like she’d found her voice. This sounds unbelievable. But she’s not referring to the one she uses on stage. She’s referencing the voice that speaks to who she is at her core. “Therapy kind of gave me the training to speak my mind,” the 37-year-old says. “It’s not something we’re taught, especially as Black women. I got so comfortable in [doing so], and I really want other people, especially Black women, to get more comfortable in that space.”
“Therapy kind of gave me the training to speak my mind. It’s not something we’re taught, especially as Black women."
If you ask Riley’s manager, Myisha Brooks, she’ll tell you the foundation of who the multihyphenate is hasn’t changed much since she was a kid growing up in Compton. “She is who she is from when I met her back when she was singing in the front of the church to back when she landed major roles in film and TV,” Brooks says. Time has allowed Riley to grow more comfortable, giving fans a more intimate glimpse into her life, including her mental health journey and the ins and outs of show business.
The actress/singer has been in therapy since 2019, although she suffered from depression and anxiety way before that. In a recent interview with Jason Lee, she recalls having suicidal ideation as a kid. By the time she started seeing a psychologist and taking antidepressants in her thirties, her body had become jittery, a physical reminder of the trauma stacked high inside her. “I was shaking in [my therapist’s] office,” she tells xoNecole. “My fight or flight was on such a high level. I was constantly in survival mode. My heart was beating fast all the time. All I did was sweat.”
There wasn’t just childhood trauma to account for. After auditioning for American Idol and being turned away by producers, Riley began working for Ikea and nearly missed her Glee audition because her car broke down on the highway while en route. Thankfully, Riley had been cast to play Mercedes Jones. American Idol had temporarily convinced her she wasn’t cut out for the entertainment industry, but this was validation that she was right where she belonged. Glee launched in 2009 with the promise of becoming Riley’s big break.
In some ways, it was. The show introduced Riley to millions of fans and catapulted her into major Hollywood circles. But in other ways, it became a reminder of the types of roles Black women, especially those who are plus-sized, are relegated to. Behind the scenes, Riley says she fought for her character "to have a voice" but eventually realized her efforts were useless. "It finally got to a point where I was like, this is not my moment. I'm not who they're choosing, and this is just going to have to be a job for me for now," she says. "And, that's okay because it pays my bills, I still get to be on television, I'm doing more than any other Black plus-sized women that I'm seeing right now on screen."
The actress can recognize now that she was navigating issues associated with trauma and low self-esteem at the time. She now knows that she's long had anxiety and depression and can recognize the ways in which she was triggered by how the cult-like following of the show conflicted with her individual, isolated experiences behind the scenes. But she was in her early '20s back then. She didn't yet have the language or the tools to process how she was feeling.
Riley says she eventually sought out medical intervention. "When you're in Hollywood, and you go to a doctor, they give you pills," she says, sharing a part of her story that she'd never revealed publicly before now. "[I was] on medication and developing a habit of medicating to numb, not understanding I was developing an addiction to something that's not fixing my problem. If anything, it's making it worse."
“[I was] on medication and developing a habit of medicating to numb, not understanding I was developing an addiction to something that’s not fixing my problem. If anything it’s making it worse.”
Credit: Ally Green
At one point, while in her dressing room on set, she rested her arm on a curling iron without realizing it. It wasn't until her makeup artist alerted her that she even realized her skin was burning. Once she noticed, she says she was "so zonked out on pills" that she barely reacted. Speaking today, she holds up her arm and motions towards a scar that remains from the incident. She sought help for her reliance on the pills, but it would still be years before she finally attended therapy.
This stress was only compounded by the trauma of growing up in poverty and the realities of being a "contract worker." "Imagine going from literally one week having to borrow a car to get to set to the next week being on a private jet to New York City," she says. After Glee ended, so did the rides on private planes. The fury of opportunities she expected to follow her appearance on the show failed to materialize. She wasn't even 30 yet, and she was already forced to consider if she'd hit her career peak.
. . .
We’re only four minutes into our Zoom call before Riley delivers her new adage to me. “My new mantra is ‘humility does not serve me.’ Humility does not serve Black women. The world works so hard to humble us anyway,” she says.
On this Thursday afternoon in April, the LA-based entertainer is seated inside her closet/dressing room wearing a cerulean blue tank top with matching shorts and eating hot wings. This current phase of healing hinges on balance. It’s about having discipline and consistency, but not at the risk of inflexibility. She was planning to head to the gym, for instance, but she’s still tired from the “exhausting” day before. Instead, she’s spent her day receiving a massage, eating some chicken wings, and planning to spend quality time with friends. “I’m not going to beat myself up for it. I’m not going to talk down to myself. I’m going to eat my chicken wings, and then tomorrow I’m [back] in the gym,” she says.
“My new mantra is ‘humility does not serve me.’ Humility does not serve Black women. The world works so hard to humble us anyway."
This is the balance with which she's been approaching much of her life these days. It's why she's worried less about whether or not people see her as someone who is humble. She'd rather be respected. "I think you should be a person that's easy to work with, but in the moments where I have to ruffle feathers and make waves, I'm not shying away from that anymore. You can do it in love, you don't have to be nasty about it, but I had to finally be comfortable with the fact that setting boundaries around my life – in whatever aspect, whether that's personal or business – people are not going to like it. Some people are not going to have nice things to say about you, and you gotta be okay with it," she says.
When Amber talks about the constant humbling of Black women in Hollywood, I think of the entertainers before her who have suffered from this. The brilliant, consistent, overqualified Black women who have spoken of having to fight for opportunities and fair pay. Aretha Franklin. Viola Davis. Tracee Ellis Ross. There's a long list of stars whose success hasn't mirrored their experiences behind the scenes.
Credit: Ally Green
If Black women outside of Hollywood are struggling to decrease the pay gap, so, too, are their wealthier, more famous peers.
Riley says there’s been progress in recent years, but only in small ways and for a limited group of people. “This business is exhausting. The goalpost is constantly moving, and sometimes it’s unfair,” she says. But, I have to say it’s the love that keeps you going.”
“There’s no way you can continue to be in this business and not love it, especially being a plus-sized Black woman,” she continues. “We’re still niche. We’re still not main characters.”
"There’s no way you can continue to be in this business and not love it, especially being a plus-sized Black woman. We’re still niche. We’re still not main characters.”
Last year, Riley starred alongside Raven Goodwin in the Lifetime thriller Single Black Female (a modern, diversified take on 1992’s Single White Female). It was more than a leading role for the actress, it also served as proof that someone who looks like her can front a successful project without it hinging on her identity. It showcased that the characters she portrays don’t “have to be about being a big girl. It can just be a regular story.”
Riley sees her work in music as an extension of her efforts to push past the rigid stereotypes in entertainment. Take her appearance on The Masked Singer, for instance. Riley said she decided to perform Mayer’s “Gravity” after being told she couldn’t sing it years earlier. “I wanted to do ‘Gravity’ on Glee. [I] was told no, because that’s not a song that Mercedes would do,” she says. “That was a full circle moment for me, doing that on that show and to hear what it is they had to say.”
As Scherzinger praised the “anointed” performance, a masked Riley began to cry, her chest heaving as she stood on stage, her eyes shielded from view. “You have to understand, I have really big names – casting directors, producers, show creators – that constantly tell me ‘I’m such a big fan. Your talent is unmatched.’ Hire me, then,” she says, reflecting on the moment.
Recently, she’s been in the studio working on original music, the follow-up to her independently-released debut EP, 2020’s Riley. The sequel to songs such as the anthemic “Big Girl Energy” and the reflective ballad “A Moment” on Riley, this new project hones in on the singer’s R&B roots with sensual grooves such as the tentatively titled “All Night.” “You said I wasn’t shit, turns out that I’m the shit. Then you called me a bitch, turns out that I’m that bitch. You said no one would want me, well you should call your homies,” she sings on the tentatively titled “Lately,” a cut about reflecting on a past relationship. From the forthcoming project, xoNecole received five potential tracks. Fans likely already know the strengths and contours of Riley’s vocals, but these new songs are her strongest, most confident offerings as an artist.
“I am so much more comfortable as a writer, and I know who I am as an artist now. I’m evolving as a human being, in general, so I’m way more vulnerable in my music. I’m way more willing to talk about whatever is on my mind. I don’t stop myself from saying what it is I want to say,” she says.
Credit: Ally Green
“Every era and alliteration of Amber, the baseline is ‘Big Girl Energy.’ That’s the name of her company,” her manager Brooks says, referencing the imprint through which Riley releases her music after getting out of a label deal several years ago. “It’s just what she stands for. She’s not just talking about size, it’s in all things. Whether it’s putting your big girl pants on and having to face a boardroom full of executives or sell yourself in front of a casting agent. It’s her trying to achieve the things she wants to do in life.”
Riley says she has big dreams beyond releasing this new music, too. She’d love to star in a rom-com with Winston Duke. She hasn't starred in a biopic yet, but she’d revel in the opportunity to portray Rosetta Tharpe on screen. She’s determined that her previous setbacks won’t stop her from dreaming big.
“I think one of my superpowers is resilience because, at the end of the day, I’m going to kick, scream, cry, cuss, be mad and disappointed, but I’m going to get up and risk having to deal with it all again. It’s worth it for the happy moments,” she says.
If Riley seems more comfortable and confident professionally, it’s because of the work she’s been doing in her personal life.
She’d previously spoken to xoNecole about becoming engaged to a man she discovered in a post on the site, but she called things off last year. For Valentine’s Day, she revealed her new boyfriend publicly. “I decided to post him on Valentine’s Day, partially because I was in the dog house. I got in trouble with him,” she says, half-joking before turning serious. “The breakup was never going to stop me from finding love. Or at least trying. I don’t owe anybody a happily ever after. People break up. It happens. When it was good, it was good. When it was bad, it was terrible, hunny. I had to get the fuck up out of there. You find happiness, and you enjoy it and work through it.”
Credit: Ally Green
"I don’t owe anybody a happily ever after. People break up. It happens. When it was good, it was good. When it was bad, it was terrible, hunny. I had to get the fuck up out of there. You find happiness and you enjoy it and work through it.”
With her ex, Riley was pretty outspoken about her relationship, even appearing in content for Netflix with him. This time around is different. She’s not hiding her boyfriend of eight months, but she’s more protective of him, especially because he’s a father and isn’t interested in becoming a public figure.
She’s traveling more, too. It’s a deliberate effort on her part to enjoy her money and reject the trauma she’s developed after experiencing poverty in her childhood. “I live in constant fear of being broke. I don’t think you ever don’t remember that trauma or move past that. Now I travel and I’m like, listen, if it goes, it goes. I’m not saying [to] be reckless, but I deserve to enjoy my hard work.”
After everything she’s been through, she certainly deserves to finally let loose a bit. “I have to have a life to live,” she says. “I’ve got to have a life worth fighting for.”
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