Dear Lesbian Love and Advice: Can I get some advice? My stud says she loves me, but she says she thinks someone else may be her soul mate. She has referred to this other woman as her “wife.” However, this other woman won’t even talk to her! I feel like she's only with me for now, but if the other woman were to suddenly show up and declare her love for stud, my stud would leave me in a New York minute. I'm torn, heartbroken and weary of it all. What's a black lesbian to do?
In existing, navigating, and surviving as queer Black folks within a white supremacist patriarchy, it feels impossible to heal our own selves, yet alone offer healing to each other. In seeing each other, holding each other, and loving each other, we must engage in community practice and dialogue around what transformative love looks like beyond survival.
Society is hell bent on telling single women that if you’re single, your existence should be desperately dedicated to trying not to be. I'm a very happy single black lesbian. Every time I tell people this, they give me the side eye as if the words “happy” and “single” side by side are natural enemies.
Men are constantly weighing their own masculinity against mine. As if my clothes define my level of “almost manhood.” No one stepped up when a man threatened me in my own ‘safe’ space. No one notices the way they frown at me and talk to me as if my opinion of the world doesn’t matter. No one notices when people--even people in my own family--say, “well it’s a man thing, something only us alpha males understand,” as if I was trying to understand the way of men. As if I won’t always come up short in comparison.
I remember getting my gallbladder removed on December 25, 2010. It was a horribly painful experience, but it was the best Christmas gift I ever got. After that, I was determined to change my eating habits. My wife, Cicely, and I had been thinking about becoming vegetarians. After watching several documentaries that exposed the cruel environments that the animals lived in, that was it for us. We never looked back. Changing our eating habits was merely part of the battle. Our ultimate goal was to completely change our lifestyle—mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually.
Dear Lesbian Love and Advice: I have tried several times to date mothers and it just hasn’t worked out for me. I have no kids so it’s hard for me because I'm used to not having to think about someone who depends on an adult. Being childless, I am selfish, at least that is what I am told. But why be angry with me because that is what I'm used to? I don't like being last in my partner's life.
We at Black Lesbian Love Lab are hosting our very first giveaway and wellness challenge devoted to helping members of our community get healthy this year. Find out more inside.
Everybody has dreams. When I was a kid, I dreamed of being a neurologist who would moonlight as an opera singer on the weekends. And as every kid experiences, my dreams changed over the years, and I bet your dreams have changed too. As we ease into adulthood, we simply stop “dreaming” up big dreams. My big adult dream was to get married, but shortly after my wife and I got married this past September, I realized that I, too, had stopped dreaming big. Here are seven ways that we dream big as a black lesbian couple.