Updated: Dec. 24, 2019
Originally Published: March 3, 2018
“Slow down! You’re going to endanger us both!” I shouted at my partner.
I don’t usually resort to such dramatic outbursts (well, maybe I do). But when you’re hurtling down the Autobahn at about 130 mph, it’s hard not to react. My partner, usually gentle and caring, had borrowed a powerful car from a friend, thinking it would be an exhilarating way to enjoy a rare kid-free night. Who could blame him? He deserves to unwind after all the hard work he puts in.
Or does he?
Earlier that evening, I had expressed my discomfort with the car’s power, describing the engine’s roar as something ominous. The ride to the restaurant was indeed thrilling, and I admit I laughed nervously at times. However, I had reached my limit, begging him in a half-serious tone to drop me off at home before he went for another high-speed escapade. Despite my pleas, he seemed oblivious, leading to my frantic shouting and desperate prayers for safety when we finally got home.
Once there, I was too shaken to speak. It took his gentle inquiry, “Why aren’t you talking to me?” to finally break the silence.
“I need to tell you something,” I said, finding my voice. “When you ignored my pleas to slow down, it felt like a violation.”
Though my trauma occurred over twenty years ago, it still affects my life and my marriage. My partner was aware of my past—a painful experience that had nearly shattered me.
“I’m so sorry. That was never my intention,” he stammered, clearly distressed. “I thought you were enjoying it.”
“I laughed, yes, but I made it clear that I was uncomfortable. You disregarded my requests to slow down. I didn’t consent to that ride.” I continued, “You have autonomy over your body, but that doesn’t extend to me without my agreement.”
I’ve always taught our children about consent and body autonomy, emphasizing that everyone is in charge of their own bodies and that permission is essential before any physical interaction. My partner, however, should have known better.
“You’re absolutely right. I’m really sorry. How can I prevent this from happening again? Should we come up with a safe word?” he suggested.
A safe word. This concept holds more significance than a simple “no” or “stop.” It indicates someone has reached their limit; it’s a clear signal that the activity must cease immediately. Unfortunately, safe words often have a questionable reputation, typically associated with adult situations. But they can be beneficial for everyone, even in a family context.
I found his idea brilliant. We decided to let our children choose the safe word, realizing it would empower them to express their discomfort too. After some deliberation, my daughter proposed “lederhosen” as our family’s official safe word.
Since that night, I have come to value our safe word immensely. It has improved the way we communicate and respect each other’s boundaries. The word has proven effective when “no” or “stop” don’t quite convey the seriousness of a situation.
“Parents, need your kids to stop climbing all over you while you’re trying to work? Just say LEDERHOSEN!”
“Children, want your mom to stop fussing with your hair? Just utter LEDERHOSEN!”
Of course, there are times when the safe word backfires. My kids now think they can use it to avoid chores or medical appointments, arguing, “It’s our bodies; we get to decide. Lederhosen!” They’re learning, however, that certain situations require us to override the safe word for their health and safety.
Since that fateful evening, I have rebuilt my trust in my partner. Now, when we’re on the Autobahn, he knows he might hear “lederhosen” from me, leading him to ease off the accelerator. There’s no more drama or silent treatment. I’m proud of him for understanding how to respect boundaries, and it’s something I cherish about our relationship.
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In summary, establishing a safe word has transformed our family dynamics, enhancing our communication and mutual respect. It’s a small but powerful tool that has brought us closer together.