Eglė Kuktoraitė, Communications Manager at the National LGBT Rights Organisation LGL
Domestic violence is being discussed increasingly often in Lithuania. We are learning to recognise not only physical violence but also psychological abuse: control, intimidation, economic pressure and sexual coercion. Nevertheless, public narratives about violence almost automatically evoke the image of a male “perpetrator” and a female “victim”. This deeply ingrained model reflects the systemic problem of men’s violence against women, but it does not encompass the full range of lived experiences. When violence occurs in a relationship between two women, it is more difficult to recognise.
A study conducted by the National LGBT Rights Organisation LGL together with its project partners in early 2026[1] revealed how many different experiences fall outside this conventional image. The survey involved 247 respondents, while a further ten lesbian and bisexual women and non-binary people shared their experiences in in-depth interviews. Of those surveyed, 67.2 per cent reported having experienced violence. Almost one in five were unsure whether what they had experienced could be described as violence at all. Only 13.4 per cent believed that they would receive appropriate support from institutions in the event of violence.
Due to its limited sample size, the study does not reflect the nationwide prevalence of violence experienced by all LBT—lesbian, bisexual and transgender—women. However, it very clearly reveals recurring patterns of violence in same-sex relationships: the violence is real, its different forms overlap, and the willingness to seek help often disappears before a woman has even entered an institution.
Based on the findings, LGL and its project partners also developed methodological guidance for professionals[2], explaining how to recognise and respond appropriately to violence against LBT women and non-binary people. While preparing this methodology, it became clear that merely adding further categories to the general list of forms of domestic violence would not be enough. It is also necessary to understand the specific mechanisms of control and the circumstances that may discourage an LBT woman who has experienced violence from seeking help.
When violence does not fit the familiar narrative
Violence in relationships between women is no less dangerous simply because it does not involve the “traditional” male perpetrator. Its underlying basis is the same: the pursuit of power and control. A partner may check someone’s phone, control their finances, restrict contact with friends, humiliate or threaten them, force them to perform sexual acts, or use physical violence. Alongside the forms found in all situations of domestic violence, however, there may also be forms of abuse directly related to sexual orientation or gender identity.
One such form is threatening to disclose a woman’s sexual orientation or gender identity to her family, colleagues or members of her community without her consent. To someone outside the LGBT community, this may appear to be nothing more than the disclosure of personal information. For the victim, however, it may mean losing relationships with loved ones, experiencing harassment at work, becoming unsafe in a small town or even losing rented accommodation. The perpetrator may insist that no one will believe that a woman can abuse another woman, or threaten that contacting the police will require the victim to disclose a relationship she has never previously revealed to anyone.
Sexual orientation may also be used to justify constant control. A bisexual woman may be accused of infidelity solely because of her sexual orientation and forbidden from associating with either men or women. A lesbian may be threatened with the disclosure of her relationship to conservative family members or her employer. The perpetrator may exploit the fear that, if the relationship ends, the victim will be left alone and rejected not only by her loved ones but also by the LGBT community.
A transgender woman may also be controlled by restricting her access to hormone medication, identity documents, healthcare or the expression of her gender identity. Her identity may be deliberately denied: she may be addressed by her former name or the wrong pronouns, while her body may be turned into an object of ridicule and humiliation. Violence against a non-binary person may be accompanied by constant assertions that their identity does not exist and that their experience is therefore supposedly unworthy of being taken seriously.
Denying a person’s identity, threatening to disclose it and exploiting prevailing hostility in society are all means of control. They work because the perpetrator relies not only on personal power but also on the stigma that already exists in the victim’s environment.
A small community is not always a safe community
For LGBT people, the community is often the first space in which they can simply be themselves. However, a small social circle also has another side. Partners may share the same friends, frequent the same spaces and know the same human rights activists or support providers. After leaving an abusive relationship, a woman may risk losing not only her partner but also the entire support network she has spent years building.
A victim may remain silent because she fears exposing conflict within the community, damaging its reputation or reinforcing hostile attitudes that portray LGBT relationships as inherently problematic. Sometimes those around her may also be reluctant to “air the community’s dirty laundry” and encourage reconciliation. In other cases, the violence is minimised as a mutual conflict because both partners are women and their power is therefore wrongly assumed to be equal.
Being of the same gender does not, however, mean being in an equal position. Power imbalances may arise from differences in income, housing, age, health, disability, migration status, dependence on a partner or access to social connections. A migrant woman may fear losing the only person close to her and her sole connection to the local community. A woman with a disability may be physically or financially dependent on an abusive partner. A younger woman may be economically dependent on an older partner who owns their home and controls their shared social life.
Violence is often directed at a person’s most vulnerable point. It is therefore not enough to see only two partners of the same gender when assessing the situation. It is necessary to understand who controls the money, housing, social relationships, information and ability to seek help within the relationship.
Why seeking help is so difficult
In the study conducted by LGL and its project partners, more than one third of respondents explicitly stated that they did not trust institutions. This mistrust does not emerge in a vacuum. A woman considering whether to seek help assesses more than the violence she has experienced. She also wonders whether a police officer will believe that her partner could be the perpetrator, whether a social worker will ask “which one of you is the man”, whether a psychologist will treat her sexual orientation as the cause of the problem, or whether her identity will be unnecessarily disclosed to colleagues or relatives.
Sometimes a single inappropriate question, smirk or expression of doubt is enough to make someone withdraw. For a victim, the first contact with an institution is not neutral. If she has to explain once again that her relationship was real, that violence between two women is possible, or defend herself against the assumption that it was simply an “argument”, the institution becomes not a place of support but yet another space in which she must prove her humanity.
One of the most common barriers is recognising the violence itself. When society almost always imagines a perpetrator as a physically stronger man, psychological control, sexual coercion or economic abuse within a relationship between women may be dismissed as nothing more than a heated conflict. It is even more difficult for the victim herself to identify the situation if she has never encountered a narrative of violence that reflects her own experience.
This is where it is important to discuss secondary victimisation. It occurs when a victim suffers further harm as a result of insensitive institutional conduct: she is blamed, forced to repeat her traumatic story unnecessarily, has her identity disclosed to others, or faces the risk of violence being underestimated. A formal support service for women who have experienced violence may exist, but if a woman has legitimate reasons not to feel safe using it, its accessibility remains purely theoretical.
For this reason, the methodological guidance prepared by LGL and its partners places particular emphasis on the first point of contact. A professional does not need to know all the answers immediately, but they must listen to the woman, take her account seriously without minimising it, and ensure confidentiality. Questions should concern the violence and the support required, rather than being driven by curiosity about the woman’s sexual orientation, body or private life.
Violence does not end at the front door
The study participants spoke not only about violence in same-sex relationships. Of the respondents, 69.2 per cent reported experiencing harassment or feeling unsafe in public spaces. More than half had encountered hateful comments, threats or aggressive behaviour online. Some avoid showing affection towards their partner in public, alter their behaviour, conceal their identity and constantly monitor their surroundings.
This broader context is important for understanding domestic violence. When a person continually receives signals outside the home that their relationship is not worthy of equal respect and protection, it becomes easier for a perpetrator to convince them that no help will be available. A lack of safety in public spaces, online hatred and violence at home are not three separate problems. They reinforce one another.
Digital violence must not be regarded as less serious in this context. A partner may track someone’s location, demand passwords, control social media accounts, distribute personal information or intimate content, create fake accounts, or threaten to disclose the victim’s sexual orientation. This control may continue after the relationship has ended, even when there is no longer any physical contact between the former partners.
Responsibility cannot therefore be placed entirely on the victim by asking why she did not leave sooner. Instead, we should ask where she was supposed to go if the home belonged to her partner; whom she could have called if their mutual friends supported the perpetrator; how she was supposed to approach an institution that did not believe her; and how many times her environment had already shown her that remaining silent was safer.
What is needed to make support real rather than theoretical
First, we do not need a separate “LGBT service system”, but a competent mainstream system. Police officers, prosecutors, social workers, psychologists, medical professionals and educators must be able to recognise violence regardless of the partners’ genders and not become confused upon hearing the words “my female partner”. They do not need to know every term associated with the LGBT community. They need to know how to listen, avoid assumptions, respect a person’s stated name and pronouns, ensure confidentiality and assess the actual risk.
Second, institutional procedures must be reviewed in practical terms. Does a registration form allow someone to identify a female partner rather than only a husband or wife? Do staff understand that threatening to disclose someone’s sexual orientation can be a means of control? Does a safety plan take account of a shared circle of friends, digital stalking and risks arising within a small community? Is the victim referred from one professional to another only as many times as strictly necessary?
Inclusion is measured not by a rainbow sticker on the door, but by what happens to a person after they walk through it.
Third, consistent interinstitutional cooperation is needed. A woman who has experienced violence should not have to coordinate the police, social services, psychological support and legal assistance herself—particularly when she is frightened, isolated or economically dependent. The support system must operate in such a way that every part of it understands its responsibilities and does not simply send the woman and her problem off into the unknown.
Professionals’ competencies must also be strengthened. One-off training sessions will not transform the entire system unless the knowledge gained becomes part of everyday practice. The methodological guidance can be used not only during training but also when reviewing institutional procedures, developing response protocols and discussing specific cases within professional teams.
Finally, we must broaden society’s understanding of violence itself. Acknowledging violence in relationships involving LBT women does not mean stigmatising the LGBT community. On the contrary, it means applying the same standards of accountability and human dignity. A community’s reputation is not protected by silencing violence. It becomes stronger when victims can speak without fear of betrayal or blame.
LBT women do not need exceptional rights to safety. They need the right to safety to finally apply without exception. As long as a woman must choose between violence at home and the possibility of discrimination within the support system, we cannot claim that support is genuinely accessible.
Change begins with a simple act that institutions still find difficult: believing, listening and responding.
[1] National LGBT Rights Organisation LGL, “Violence, Fear and Distrust in Institutions: What a New LGL Study Revealed”, 25 May 2026. Available online: https://www.lgl.lt/naujienos/smurtas-baime-ir-nepasitikejimas-institucijomis-ka-atskleide-naujas-lgl-tyrimas/
[2] National LGBT Rights Organisation LGL, “LGL Introduces New Methodological Guidance to Help Recognise Violence Against LBT Women”, 20 May 2026. Available online: https://www.lgl.lt/naujienos/lgl-pristato-nauja-metodine-priemone-padesiancia-atpazinti-smurta-pries-lbt-moteris/
The article was published on the LRT.lt news portal: https://www.lrt.lt/naujienos/pozicija/679/3035220/egle-kuktoraite-smurtas-kurio-nematome-kodel-lbt-moterims-sunku-sulaukti-pagalbos
This commentary was prepared as part of the project “Visible and Heard: Responding to Gender-Based Violence Against LBT Women and Non-Binary People” (No. GR-001-LT). The project seeks to contribute to the development of a safer and more inclusive society and to strengthen support mechanisms for LBT women experiencing gender-based violence.
Funded by the European Union. Views and opinions expressed are, however, those of the author only and do not necessarily reflect those of the European Union or the European Commission. Neither the European Union nor the European Commission can be held responsible for them.



