When Women Abuse Other Women

Photo credit: Getty Images
Photo credit: Getty Images

When Nicole was just 19, she met the woman who would become her first girlfriend. The woman, another student at her Minnesota college, was working in campus security. "When I looked into her eyes and she smiled at me, as cheesy as this sounds, I knew my life was never going to be the same," Nicole remembers. "I just didn't realize how it would be different."

The two quickly began spending all of their time together. "I was so confused by that," says Nicole, explaining that she had not come out as a lesbian yet, to herself or anyone else. "I was falling in love with a woman when I had no idea what it meant to be gay."

The relationship progressed, and soon, things started to change. "They were hard to see then, but looking back, I wonder to myself why I didn't catch the red flags," Nicole says. Her partner wanted to control what she wore and who she was friends with. "We'd go out to a gay bar and she'd accuse me of flirting with other women," remembers Nicole. She says it got to the point where she felt like she couldn't do anything right, and going home made her anxious because she never really knew what kind of mood her partner would be in. "I was an emotional wreck and failing classes," she says.

Nicole says that, in the worst moments of their two-year relationship, her partner would scream and berate her for hours, often in drunken rages, only to wake up the next morning and apologize profusely for what she'd said. She would tell Nicole how wonderful she was and how much she loved her. "Although she never physically hit me," Nicole says, "I felt bruised all the time."

Different Name, Same Dynamic

What Nicole describes is a classic pattern of domestic abuse, one that is often associated with a male abuser and his female victim. But intimate partner violence (IPV) happens in same-sex relationships, too, and — like in heterosexual relationships — the abuse is categorized by a pattern of behavior in which one partner seeks to gain power and control over the other. A 2013 report from the National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs (NCAVP) found that lesbian women are more likely to experience physical violence from a partner — and they accounted for 19% of IPV homicide victims. (This is a staggering proportion considering that only 1.5% of women in the U.S. self-identify as lesbian and 0.9% as bisexual.)

One of the biggest misconceptions about intimate partner abuse is that it doesn't exist in relationships between women. Or, if it does, then it isn't that bad, says Vilma Uribe, the Community Organizer for The Network/La Red, a Boston-based organization for LGBTQ people and other survivors.

"Typically images posted depicting abuse show a woman with a bruised eye and the assumption is that her abuser is a man," Uribe explains. "But people don't recognize that it can happen between women as well, or that it's not just about physical abuse. Emotional and verbal abuse can also have a huge toll." This can make it hard for friends and family, or even the authorities, to take the abuse seriously.

And there are extra challenges for bisexual women, who have the highest rates of IPV, notes Uribe. Elizabeth*, who met her abuser online and was with her for two years, says her abuser often used the fact that she was bisexual against her: "She'd say things like, 'I know you're going to leave me for a man,' or 'You can't commit to me the way a lesbian could.'"

Elizabeth says the abuse in her relationship was real — and very bad. While the relationship started off smoothly, things quickly devolved. "She started throwing things at me when I refused to let her do whatever she wanted, which was to play video games all day and all night and skip her job," she recalls. "She convinced me that I was the only one that had ever loved her and would ever love her, and without me, she'd die."

Then, the abuse got physical. "One night, she pushed me into a wall and then apologized for the next three days, telling me that I'd just made her angry and the only reason she'd done that was because she loved me so much," Elizabeth remembers. Another time, she responded to the physical abuse by shoving her abuser back, which she's still ashamed about. "I regret that every day, because I am not a violent person by nature, but in that moment, I was scared about what she would do," Elizabeth says. "Life became hard — I was walking on eggshells all the time."

Increasingly Marginalized Victims

While abuse in same-sex relationships may utilize many of the same tactics as in heterosexual ones, the abuse can be compounded by the marginalized status of many LGBTQ people. "The abuser can use someone's identity against them, by threatening to out them, or say that no one is going to believe them because of their identity," says Uribe. And if someone is in a relationship that their family doesn't approve of, their abuser may feel like all they have.

This marginalization can be compounded even further for LGBTQ people of color, like Elizabeth. The NCAVP report found that people of color made up the majority of total domestic violence survivors and that "LGBTQ people of color were more likely to report experiencing physical violence, discrimination, threats or intimidation, and harassment as a result of IPV."

Once survivors leave the abusive situation, Uribe says, finding support services is even more daunting for those leaving a lesbian relationship. "There are well-meaning providers but when people get into a shelter, other residents may not understand and if the provider doesn't know how to stand up for the survivor, it further isolates them," she explains. (The NCAVP report found that lesbian survivors were 4.9 times more likely to experience violence in shelters.) "Other survivors may assume that the lesbian survivor is into them or doesn't deserve to be there, and staff may not be equipped to educate the other residents."

Another challenge faced by bisexual, queer, or lesbian survivors is the legal system. "When a masculine-of-center person in a relationship is the victim of the abuse, they may be afraid of calling the police because they fear the police will assume they are the abuser," says Uribe. "In this way, stereotypes are used against them." And many police officers are unsure how to handle reports of domestic violence between two women and may be quick to categorize it as a "cat fight," says Uribe. "I've heard stories where an officer has arrested both people, and both women are in the same car and holding cell because they can't determine who the abuser is and see it as both people being at fault," explains Uribe. "They don't see that it might be one person who is holding the power in the relationship." She says educating law enforcement, care providers, and communities is one of the biggest hurdles to providing support for LGBTQ survivors of IPV. "We need to create communities that are accountable to each other, and we need to start addressing homophobia, biphobia, and transphobia within our spaces."

Finding Healing and Hope

The day that Nicole decided she'd had enough, she asked two friends to help her pack up her belongings while her partner was out running errands. "She ended up coming home early and was irate to find me leaving," Nicole recalls. "She took me into the bedroom while my friends kept moving my things out. I let her scream at me and throw things around the room."

Though she eventually left, Nicole had nowhere to go. "I spent the summer couch hopping and living out of my car, but it was better than where I had been." Eventually, Nicole started working at a domestic violence shelter — and realized she could have stayed there herself when she left her abuser.

Today, Nicole is married and has a beautiful daughter with her partner. For her, there was life after abuse. Looking back, she harbors no hard feelings towards her abuser: "I really do wish the best for her."

Elizabeth's path to freedom took longer, and she still isn't sure if her abuser keeps tabs on her to this day — three years after she left. "We weren't able to separate completely for about a year. She would call me incessantly, wanting money, wanting to get back together, asking how could I leave her," Elizabeth says. "Finally I cut it off for good and blocked her number."

Dating after the abuse has been a challenge for Elizabeth. She feels that her experience has "really colored how I look at relationships now; I have a lot of trust issues." Despite that, she finally feels ready to date. She says, "I'm cautious, but I am trying it again."

This story is part of an ongoing series about domestic violence and abuse. If you or someone you know is at risk, reach the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233. If you are in danger, call 911. More information and resources are available at the National Resource Center on Domestic Violence or the National Online Resource Center for Violence Against Women.

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