Same-sex intimate partner violence

-by Jason Dilts
  Gayly Homo-on the Range Columnist

Colby and I were destined to be friends. We’re intellectually progressive and intensely edgy in our fashion and music tastes. We’re ethnic foodies with a proclivity for indie movies and artistic stimulation. We like to travel, and we thrive in urban environments. But we have something darker in common: we’re intimately familiar with domestic abuse. I came of age surrounded by dating violence; when I met him, he was in the troughs of the same sort of venomous relationship I grew accustomed to seeing modeled. The only difference was there were two penises. 

Domestic violence isn’t just a women’s issue; it’s a concern that affects the LGBT community at the same rate as our heterosexual counterparts. At a time when we’re working hard as a movement to present a loving image of same-sex couples, we can’t ignore the reality that not every gay relationship is a healthy partnership. We need to be aware of the special circumstances that keep same-sex intimate partner violence in the closet.

Nobody wants to admit that the person they love is abusing them. Colby always resisted that label in describing his relationship with Blade. Yet every text message, Facebook post, and phone call was carefully scrutinized. He wasn’t allowed to go out with friends. He was constantly berated and belittled. He was called “weird” for being into indie rock and “disgusting” for having a somewhat colorful past. Eventually, the emotional and verbal abuse turned physical. Though Colby knew none of this was acceptable, he minimized the impact by characterizing the manipulative, coercive behavior as “jealousy”. He didn’t end the relationship because he said he did not want to hurt Blade, who he described as simply being too young and too insecure. This, despite the fact that Blade violated the very essence of Colby on a daily basis.

Colby’s trials mirrored similar experiences my friend, Kay, had endured. During our formative, post-adolescent years, she and I were inseparable. That meant I was privy to all of the ups and downs of her relationships with men. And most of those machinations were tragic! It was easy and obvious to point out the abuse in her relationships, though, because we are all familiar with male-female intimate partner violence. Kay's past alerted an acute sense of alarm when I met Colby.

Inherent in many same-sex relationships is a sense of identity searching. Nobody teaches us how to be gay; we are left to our own devices. Often, we turn on each other in an attempt to fight back against the pain others have caused. A lot of us aren’t able to get the support we need from the families we were born into, so we look to our romantic partners to fill a basic need for intimacy, connection, and safety. Such intensity can often attract vultures needing to feed their own pains of abandonment and maltreatment. Society abuses us; we abuse each other.

We are wary to label our love as abuse, though, because doing so opens up our community and ourselves to vulnerability. A lot of us were told by our parents and our churches that same-sex relationships are inherently wrong; if we admit there’s a problem with our own partnership, we fear we will confirm their assumptions. We also know there is limited knowledge about gay relationships in general. Those seeking an exit from abuse often fear shelters, law enforcement, and even friends won’t understand their predicament.

That’s exactly why we need to all become more aware of same-sex intimate partner violence. I immediately recognized what was going on with Colby. I never relented in making sure he knew he had a friend he could talk to, and a safe place he could go. Eventually, he got out. I hope Blade, too, escapes. Abuse hurts the perpetrator and the perpetrated. When both are gay, there’s a whole different layer of complexities.  It’s time for those convolutions to come out of the closet! Love—especially between two men or two women—should never detract from who we are; it should always be self-affirming.