Even in 2019, lesbian couples are still made to fear for their lives by men

Its about seven in the evening and Im on a London overground train with my girlfriend. Tired, Im lea..

Its about seven in the evening and Im on a London overground train with my girlfriend. Tired, Im leaning on her shoulder and shes stroking my head. On a scale of one to ten, one being looking lovingly at each other and ten being sixty-nining in the middle of Leicester Square, this level of PDA is probably a 2.5.

This is something you think about a lot when youre in a same-sex relationship. You assess the perceived controversy of how youre behaving in public. Knowing when to tone it down so as not to, say, end up in an ambulance, comes as naturally as avoiding a pile of dog shit on the pavement. So Ive calculated the chances of our PDA on the train attracting unwanted attention, and they seem low.

Im wrong. A middle-aged, dishevelled-looking, very-clearly drunk man standing near us is giving us a death stare and muttering something incoherent about “homosexuals”. Its an odd word choice. People usually go for “dykes” or even just “lesbians” (bizarrely, this is still thought to be a slur). I ignore him. I somehow give him the benefit of the doubt. Hes drunk (not an excuse). Hes clearly having a hard time (not an excuse). He possibly has mental health problems (not an excuse). He continues.

“Something, something, something, HOMOSEXUALS, something,” he says, swaying slightly and looking like hes about to puke.

“Whats your fucking problem?” I say.

I realise that the “fucking” is upping the ante. It could make him physically violent. But Ive said it now, its out there. I was angry. I snapped. Im lucky though, and he just carries on babbling about “homosexuals”, at the same moderate level of aggression. Meanwhile, everyone else in our crowded carriage keeps their head down, in the default British state of “dont get involved.”

I shout something else at him, I cant remember what. Probably something Wildean like, “Go fuck yourself.” My girlfriend bursts into tears. I take her hand and we push through the gormless spectators to get to another carriage. Then, after a few minutes of hugging and talking about what just happened, we get on with our evening like nothing just happened. All the while, our confidence in expressing any kind of affection towards one another in the hallowed space of a South West Trains carriage getting that little bit lower.

Again, though, we were lucky. Lucky that we were only verbally, not physically attacked. Meanwhile, this week, a lesbian couple – Melania Geymonat and her girlfriend Chris – were beaten up on a bus by a group of men who wanted the two women to kiss for their entertainment. The women refused to put on a “show” for the men. The men left Melania with a suspected broken nose. A tale old as time: homophobia combining with misogyny like ammonia with bleach. Not only did the couple have the audacity to be women unaccompanied by men, they also had the nerve to be lesbians in public. And lesbians, they only exist for mens titillation, right?

Most of the lesbian couples I know have stories that fall somewhere in between mine and my girlfriends, and Malania and Chriss. I have friends who have been intimidated, followed and ultimately made to fear for their lives by men who cant (or just wont) grasp the idea of two women in love, without wanting a man to be involved.

So what are we supposed to tell young LGBTQ people? That “it gets better”? That the dark days are over? I wRead More – Source

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