Not articulating your needs doesn’t make it unreasonable to expect them to be met.

We live in a culture that worships "clear communication"—but what about the things we silently agree upon as a culture? Are they any less real?

We have implicit social contracts. Not everything needs to be written in order for it to be real or valid. There's an expected etiquette, rules of behavior that govern interactions from your daily stop at the coffee shop to how you speak to your boss at work.

When it comes to modern dating, there is a typical interpersonal protest: you didn't explicitly state your needs, wants, desires, position, etc., and therefore no one can be reasonably expected to know this. While intellectually fortified by a partial truth — that we cannot read each other's minds — it misses an important fact about human nature: there do indeed exist default assumptions.

And no, not all assumptions are bad. There is too much information to process in the world, and assumptions help us navigate life. They're not all wrong.

I move through circles with many people in poly, sex-positive, and other non-traditional relationship communities These cultures demand — perhaps even pride themselves — on copious amounts of deep communication. Some friends have actual written contracts that they sign to define their relationship and its parameters, along with what they can expect from one another.

It's an intellectually beautiful idea — make all your needs known and come to a mutual agreement. What can go wrong?

This game of social responsibility dodgeball plays out often—especially in scenes where everything must be agreed upon explicitly. I’ve seen firsthand how the fetishization of “clear agreements” can backfire—especially in emotionally charged spaces like polyamory and conscious sexuality. It’s emotional outsourcing — a dodge of responsibility — dressed up in clarity and consent.

One particular example comes to mind: a charismatic man who will remain unnamed started throwing sex parties. (No, I've never attended one). His approach to these gatherings blended body awareness, the release of shame, and spiritual ecstasy through pleasure. The events were branded as spiritual, and they attracted many people seeking alternative approaches to both their sexuality and spirituality.

The events also attracted a lot of young women. One such young woman attended and had sex with the charismatic leader. She grew an attachment. She felt led on by his attention both during and after events.

He then cut off communication with her as a "boundary." She felt hurt and frustrated. His response was firm: they had set clear expectations. He said they’d clearly defined their parameters—and that she had violated them. Her attachment and pain were 'her lesson to learn.'

I'll be honest: I found the line unsavory and lacking compassion. I felt a cognitive dissonance: yes, there were agreements. And yet, this young woman wasn't fully able to honor those agreements. Perhaps the charismatic leader could have known that. Maybe he also bears some responsibility for leading her on. It’s normal for people to develop attachments. Why isn’t that part of the emotional calculus?

Of course, I only have a fragment of the picture. I am missing context. But there's something about this dissonance—between what we agree to and what we feel in practice—that our culture fails to acknowledge.

What if we treated emotional subtext as part of the contract—not just noise in the background?

Until we do, we’ll keep harming one another in ways that feel invisible but cut deep—and call it consent.