Consent in Psychedelic Spaces

I’ve been thinking a lot about what consent really means in psychedelic spaces.

For a while, I thought of consent as just getting a yes…getting permission. You ask, they say yes, cool, you’re good to go. But over time—especially through my work as a facilitator and coach—I’ve realized it’s way more than that.

Consent isn’t about asking, “Can I do this to you?” It’s about creating a space where someone feels safe, clear, and empowered to ask for what they actually want.

That might sound small. But in an altered state—where everything is intensified and your usual defenses are down—being able to name what you want, or say no to what you don’t, is huge.

Before the Journey

One of the most important things I've learned is this: all the real consent work happens before the medicine.

When someone’s in an altered state—on psilocybin, MDMA, ketamine, whatever—they're more open, more sensitive, sometimes more suggestible. It’s not the time to negotiate new boundaries.

So before the journey starts, we talk. We get really clear:
— Do you want physical support (like a hand on your shoulder or holding hands)?
— Are there places you don’t want to be touched at all?
— If you start crying or get scared, how do you want to be supported?

These aren’t just logistical questions—they’re relationship-building. We’re practicing communication before things get weird or intense.

Consent Isn’t Passive

Here’s something that changed how I work:
Instead of me, the facilitator, asking “Is it okay if I…?”—I’ve started helping people learn to ask for what they want.

This idea is inspired by the Wheel of Consent—a simple but powerful way of exploring boundaries and choice. It’s not about me “getting permission” to do something. It’s about you discovering what feels good, safe, or supportive for you—and knowing you have a voice in it.

Sometimes people don’t know right away. That’s okay. We slow down. We try little things. We check in. It’s a process.

Three Kinds of Yes

In psychedelic spaces, I don’t just listen for someone’s words—I’m also watching their body language, and checking in with my own gut.

If any of those are a no—even if someone says yes out loud—I stop. That’s what I train myself to do.

Words. Body. Intuition. All three need to say yes. Otherwise, it’s not a real yes.

Boundaries Can’t Be Negotiated in the Middle

During a journey, someone might suddenly want more touch, more closeness, or ask for something that wasn’t agreed on ahead of time.

It’s my job to hold the line.

Even if they’re asking for something with big, puppy-dog eyes, and it feels beautiful or sweet or intense—it’s my responsibility to remember the agreements we made before the medicine started. That’s the deal. That’s how I keep them safe.

Practitioners Have to Stay Out of the Way

This might be the hardest part to say, but it’s important: if you’re a facilitator and you find yourself wanting something from your client—attention, closeness, touch, whatever—that’s yours to hold.

Not theirs to give.

You’re the grown-up in the room. Your job is to create a safe container, not act on your own needs.

Final Thoughts

Consent is not just about sex. It’s not just about getting a yes. It’s about how we honor each other in vulnerable spaces—how we build trust, listen deeply, and slow things down enough to really feel into what’s true.

Whether or not you’ve ever done psychedelics, this applies everywhere. In relationships. In group work. Even just with ourselves.

If there’s one thing I keep learning over and over again, it’s this:

Consent is a practice. Not a checkbox. A living, breathing, moment-by-moment practice.

And the more we practice it, the more powerful and healing our relationships become.