Louise’s Story - Consent

I met a man through a dating app for the first time in early 2023. We had matched the week before and had spent several days sending voice messages back and forth, and spent a night on the phone too, so I felt very comfortable meeting him and knew we would have plenty to talk about, even if there ended up not being an attraction. So we agreed to meet at a pub near me.

-        A Question.. do men know that women will tell their friends when and where they are meeting a man for the first time? I tell both a close female and close male friend whenever I go to meet someone new now - they always have a name, a location and I usually show them a picture of the person. This is purely for safety measures, in case they don't hear from me or, if they see a call incoming from me, they will be more alert to the idea that I may be in danger. 

We had been fairly forward about the possibility of sleeping together that night - we were both of the understanding that this was likely to be a casual scenario which, ironically, in my experience always ends up being a far more honest style of communication, instead of the dance-around that can happen when it comes to the timing of physical intimacy while dating.

We met on a Monday evening and were both pleased to know that we got on well and we were attracted to each other, so things progressed over the evening. This was at my house and all was going well. When it came to sex, I made it clear about using a condom from the outset. However, as events carried on, the lines blurred and through an unspoken mutual choice, we ended up having sex with no condom. Both at fault here, no argument there - a risky choice considering I don't want kids, but here's my thought process as a woman at this time:

- “this feels great, I don't want to interrupt the flow”

- “I don't want to have to be the one to remind him that I asked him to wear a condom” (literally minutes ago)

- “I don't actually like using condoms myself, I just need to because I'm not on any other contraception”

- “If we have sex with no condom, he will know not to come inside me because of the aforementioned request re the condom”

- “..so if we do have sex with no condom, at least there's still a low chance of pregnancy, and I can get the morning after pill tomorrow” (which I'll pay for myself and never tell him about)

- “..and it really does feel great”

 Just to give you an idea of how this occurred on my side of the decision-making process at the time. 

So we have sex with no condom, and no mention of the fact that I did ask to wear one originally. 

Later on, at a point where I am somewhat distracted in my own pleasure, I realise that he has done exactly what I had hoped he wouldn't do, and he has come inside me without any warning. He didn't ask, he didn't check with me, he didn't pull out.

I am IMMEDIATELY alarmed and realise how stupid I feel for trusting that he would check in with me and now I am entirely responsible for everything that happens next.

And what happens next is something I realised that I reckon the majority, if not almost all men, do not have any idea about, which is why I wanted to share this story.

Firstly, I make a feeble joke along the lines of 'great, I guess I'm getting the morning after pill then', and the response I get is something like a small laugh and a shrug of the shoulders and maybe a 'sorry'? Who fucking knows, because at this point I'm moving into Phase #1 of crisis mode:

Phase #1 - Monday night, 12am

I go straight to the bathroom and call on the forces of gravity to help get rid of as much semen as I possibly can. I clean myself literally inside out as best I can, panicking and trying not to cry. I then look in the mirror to make sure I don't look mental - I don't want to look like I'm overreacting here and it's going to be really awkward because I am now in a COMPLETELY different mood and state of mind, so I need to tread the line as best as possible between not being a complete dick and also trying to get on with Phase #2.

Phase #2 - a little later

I go back into the bedroom and explain that I did not want that to happen - that he should not have done it and that I would have much preferred if he had asked me first so I could have had the opportunity to tell him 'no'. He looks suitably embarrassed but of course, at this point he could say literally anything and I just wouldn't care, because it's happened now and it's now entirely in my hands to fix the outcome.

Once upon a time, I would have tried to sleep on it, sent him off first thing and then gone about the rest of my crisis mode after he'd gone. But I decide that I'm going to start the next stage with him right next to me so he can see what a royal fuck up this is going to create for me.

So I sit on the bed next to him, drum up the Boots web page on my phone and start filling in the lengthy & invasive form that needs to be filled out for me to access the morning-after pill the very next day. I find out that there are two pills - one is called Levonelle which costs £20, the other is EllaOne which is £30. EllaOne is of course touted as the most effective, so Boots will try and sell me the more expensive one.

After several minutes of filling this form in and basically ignoring this guy, I discover that, after having to calculate my last period and ovulation date, I have already ovulated, which means the morning-after pill DOES NOT WORK. Morning after pills work by delaying ovulation, therefore stopping the sperm from meeting the egg. I have already ovulated in my cycle, so there is already an egg. Morning after pills are now rendered effectively useless for me at this point in my cycle.

Now I really start panicking, because this has always been my backup. SO rarely have I made this stupid decision to have unprotected sex (usually the morning after pill has acted as a safety blanket if I have a bad feeling about my contraception method) and now I find out that it doesn't even work for half of my cycle?! This has not been made clear to me in the past and I am genuinely concerned about what I'm going to do.

The only small saving grace at this point is that, in doing all these ovulation calculations, the stats tell me that I am so far past the calculated fertile window, that the chances of getting pregnant are very unlikely. Right now, though, this is hardly a comfort, because there IS still a chance (and I'm now thinking about STIs).

Thankfully (is that the right word?), there is another option. With an appointment to the GP or sexual health clinic, a nurse can fit an emergency IUD - this is an intrauterine device, also commonly called the 'coil'.

This is what the 'coil' looks like:

And this is where it goes:

So, as you might gather, it's not a method I've ever particularly wanted to look into, in regards to contraception. The idea of something foreign lodged inside me for 5+ years (they can last for up to 10) has put me off ever trying it, not to mention the horror stories I've heard about getting it in, let alone getting it back out.

Anyway.

I have been doing this research for 10-20 minutes by this point - I don't communicate any of what I am doing to him and he doesn't ask. Right now, he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else right now and I think it's only because he would feel guilty leaving me like this that he stays. He asks whether I'd like to sleep alone because it's okay if I want him to head off, but I realise that, at least with him here, it's some form of comfort and I'm more likely to try and sleep rather than completely spiral on my own. So I tell him it's fine for him to stay. I turn the light off, put my phone by the bed and tell myself that, whatever I decide to do, nothing is open (we're nearly at 1am by this point) and so there's no point worrying until 8am when I can do something about it.

Phase #2 continues - 2am

I sleep in fits for an hour or so before realising that I cannot NOT have a plan for when I wake up. So I get my phone back out and start googling. I find out everything I can about the IUD device, because this is looking like my only option, unless I just wait to see if my period turns up on Sunday (only 6 days away at this point). I realise that I can't do that.

-        A little context - I had an abortion a few years ago when my form of contraception failed. I had broken up with my boyfriend just days before (who's pregnancy it was) because he was emotionally abusive and unable to have a healthy relationship. I did not tell him and never will, for perhaps obvious reasons.

It was a medical abortion via a pill at home. I bled constantly for 6 weeks until eventually I flooded (this is when there is so much blood it soaks through every piece of clothing) and had to go to A&E where I was informed that it was because my body was trying to pass bigger blood clots. Only once those had passed, I stopped bleeding. The last one was the size of a lemon.

I research and research until it's 3am and I have run out of steam and realise that, tomorrow (in a few hours), I have to go and get an emergency IUD to prevent a possible pregnancy.

-        If you're interested (and feeling brave), here's the NHS info on IUDs: https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/contraception/iud-coil/

-        And this is a PG version of the side effects: https://www.plannedparenthood.org/learn/birth-control/iud/iud-side-effects

Phase #3 - Tuesday morning

I eventually do get some bits of sleep and at 7:30am, my ‘date’ tells me he needs to get home to go to work. I'm relieved to see him go (turns out, he's a snorer) and keep my phone near me, ready to call the sexual health clinic I've decided to contact about the IUD at 8am on the dot.

I'm put in a holding line on the phone and it's 8:30am before I can talk to someone. I explain what's happened and that I think I need an emergency IUD fitting. The nurse on the phone is in agreement after taking me through all the same questions I answered on Boots GP online the night before, and is very understanding and helpful. He finds a slot for me at 11:15am that very morning, which is incredible news - my experience of last-minute appointments has not been that lucky for the most part, and I'm extremely appreciative.

-        A little more context - Tuesdays are my scheduled day off. I don't make plans, I like to have my own time to do whatever I want. I now realise that this may well take up most of the day, sorting this out.

Next, I call my best mate and tell her everything through tears - I now know I'm going to need someone to support me through this. I'm pretty traumatised and tired. She's totally on side and tells me to call her any time I need her today.

Then, with the realisation that I may be in pain for the rest of the day, I decide to go for a run with what's left of my good health (I have been taught to expect the unexpected when trying out new contraception) and listen to every furiously angry song I can find on my playlist for half an hour.

Phase #4 - 10:30am

I drive 30 minutes to the sexual health clinic and wait for my appointment. I'm seen on time - this is good, maybe this won't take as long as I think - and go into the nurse's room. I retell my story for the third time that morning and I can see the concern in the nurse's face. I expect this - she has been very kind to me so far - but I do not expect what she says next.

"You do know that unconsented ejaculation is now classed as a form of sexual assault?"

It takes me a second to fully understand what she's just told me, and I start to cry again. She is incredibly compassionate and gently talks me through why it's not my fault and that I should possibly look at getting blood tests and swabs while I'm here so they can rule out any STIs too. I say yes to everything - I'm now terrified of having apparently experienced sexual assault, getting HIV, syphillis AND possibly pregnant.

I have low blood pressure and have always struggled to take bloods. I have been swabbed before and it can be painful. I've had cervical smears before and I know how awkward, exposing and uncomfortable speculums can be. I now realise I'm going to be poked and prodded by all three - I'm surviving on a few hours sleep and have spent most of the morning crying.

The nurses go through all the procedures for STI testing and soon, I'm waiting for my IUD insertion. The speculum goes in and I'm sprayed inside with a local anaesthetic. The IUD is fitted and it's still quite painful, and pretty overwhelming when I think of how I got here. There are two nurses doing the insertion and one next to me, trying to talk to me so I don't freak out. The insertion takes about 10 minutes before I can be fully clothed again.

I'm sat back down and taken through all the risks of having an IUD, all the side effects I might experience and what to do if and when there are complications - ectopic pregnancy risks, punctures/rips in the uterus lining, unexpected blood spotting, pain, cramping etc.

-        A fun side note - from all my research, apparently IUD cramps can last anywhere from 24 hours to SIX MONTHS.

I'm then asked whether I'd like to have a chat with the sexual assault team next door. I'm told it's entirely up to me - apparently someone is free right now if I would like to talk to them, but I don't have to do anything I'm uncomfortable with.

I decide, fuck it, yes I will. I decide this mostly because I've learned through my own personal development that I need to vocalise things more often, rather than be avoidant about it. At least, if I go and talk to this person and explain what happened in more of a therapeutic context, I might go away feeling like I've shifted some of the weight of the last 12 hours.

Phase #5 - 12:15pm

I meet with a sexual assault team member in a comfy room just across the way from the nurses station. I tell my story for the fourth time and they are, again, extremely empathetic to my situation. I am asked how I would like to proceed - I can take it up with the police who can pay a visit to the man in question, I can anonymously share my story to be potentially followed up at some point in the future (which can be paired with another invasive forensic swabbing to preserve evidence), or I can walk away and come back within 7 days if I change my mind.

I decide on anonymously telling my story. I feel for other women who have gone through this and think that I want to contribute in some way. So we go through all the questions they have about the man and the event for the next 20-30 minutes.

After this, I genuinely do feel better as I'd hoped - at least I have some power back - and I finally leave the clinic around 1pm.

I call my mate again to update her on the situation and we reflect on just how much I've had to go through because some guy couldn't be bothered to a) put on a condom as requested and then b) pull out.

Life carries on

The rest of the day I spent mostly laying down as it was the least painful position, as the cramps were immediate. I'm on and off Ibuprofen for the rest of the week, even resulting in taking time off work on Thursday because the cramps were so unpredictable that I didn't know how much pain I was going to be in. I'm self-employed so I lose out on a three-figure income that day.

In this time, I tell the ‘date’ in a long voice note about what I did after he left on Tuesday morning because I decide it's better to educate than vilify, and he is genuinely shocked. He has made efforts to make amends and I realise that, for him, this is a mistake that he wishes to rectify.

This man is a normal guy - good job, good sense of humour, interesting, showed up on time, well dressed, handsome. I realise that there are probably no men in my life that would be able to fathom what I've just done to prevent a pregnancy.

I would risk to bet it has never occurred to many of them to even ask.