Tag Archives: lesbian

Domestic Violence Isn’t Just About What Men Do to Women

*Trigger Warning – Frank Stats About Domestic Violence*

hole in wall

A couple months ago, I read an article in Elle that impacted me so deeply, it took this long to be able to write about it.

Nina Collins, former book agent and literary scout, writes a horrifying, gut wrenching story about being a domestic abuser – and the process involved in understanding she had a problem:

In my thirty-seventh year, I divorced the father of my four kids after 16 years together, and I was arrested three times: once for assaulting him, once for assaulting his new girlfriend, and the last time for violating the order of protection he’d taken out after the first incident, when I upended a coffee table in his direction on Christmas Eve, two months after we’d separated. Aside from traffic violations, I’d never before been in legal trouble, never been in handcuffs, never seen the inside of a police station. [...]

The police promised me that this was a bullshit charge—“What kind of pussy husband has his wife arrested for cursing at him?”—even though I’d indeed broken the protection order’s stipulation against verbal harassment. The police spent hours working with the DA to follow Q.’s request: Despite having me arrested, he didn’t want the judge to go beyond the “limited” order the court previously had granted; he still wanted us to communicate with each other about the children only. This negotiation lasted for what seemed like forever; at around 8 p.m. I was taken handcuffed in a squad car to Brooklyn’s Central Booking, where I’d be in a holding cell until I could get in front of a judge. My lawyer was pulling every string possible so I wouldn’t have to spend the night in jail.

Orange cinder-block walls, sticky brown floor, fluorescent lights; the cell stank, partly because of the toilet and partly because of the bits of old food lying around—stale cartons of milk, remnants of bologna sandwiches. Continue reading

Suddenly Sapphic: A First Time Story [Love, Anonymously]

By Guest Contributor Katrina Pavela

Bette and Tina L WordOn paper, we shouldn’t fit: a same sex, interracial, transnational couple with nearly a quarter century age-gap.

Added to this neither of us had previously been with a woman, nor desired being with one.

New York City. The juxtaposition Mecca of fame and anonymity. I had taken a four- hour bus ride from DC to NYC. The entire way there I tried to remain calm. I was 20 before I welcomed guest contributors to my sex life. After six years and two men—one of whom I almost married—I met Julie. Within a month of our unintentional online acquaintance, we had arranged to rendezvous in NYC five months later. Sure Julie and I had knocked boots via Skype numerous times, microphone headsets our only strap-ons. With a five-hour time divide between Washington and the UK, Julie left her marital bed nearly every night (or morning) so that we could cuddle virtually. It felt real physically but emotionally it left me empty wondering what I was getting myself into. The fact that she was currently in a marriage lasting more than 30 years, with three adult children, left me wondering when—not if—I would wind up with egg on my face.

Passing through New Jersey Turnpike, I wondered if the sex would be as great as the fictionally wonderful sex Bette and Tina seemed to have on The L Word. Mostly I wondered if she would make me come. Would I feel relaxed enough and unself-conscious enough about being with a woman to let my body and mind enjoy themselves. Would Julie go through with it when my pants were pooling around my ankles? We never called it adultery, but a rose by any other name is still, um, adultery. Continue reading