Greetings My Gentle Readers,

 

Yes, I am back to calling everyone who reads my blog that for one big reason. Let us say that you do not identify as male or female and I say “Ladies and Gentleman”, I refuse to exclude anyone from my writing, unless maybe they’re a Nazi, and then they can go away. I want all people to feel welcome to my writing because, to me, it is like letting you into my home, messy grammar and bad plot lines included. If you walked into my home and I ignored your gender pronouns, you may just tell me to take the long walk off the short pier yes? Call me out on that shit if you notice me slipping up. I use genders below because I am absolutely positive the pronouns are correct, otherwise I will be using hey from this point on.

Today will be a heavy writing day. I have to get back to Siobhan, Victoria, James and Elisabet, maybe the good people in The Assemblage, some new stuff maybe, but, before we traipse down my rather dark hallways of fiction,i need to talk about something here. I need to do it here because if I talk about it in the place it originated, i would be disrespecting someone I love so very much.

In essence, it is not okay to be violent against your partner.

I know that a lot of you are reading that and saying no shit, but apparently there is a rather significant subsection of the population who feel that striking their partner, regardless of the gender identity of either party, is a perfectly reasonable way to deal with the escalation of an argument.

No.

Story Time from Gentle Bear.

My ex-wife, the woman who jaded my view on women for a decade, tried to kill me. She didn’t try to shoot me, no. She stabbed me in the left shoulder, tried to make me think the smell from my cereal was not the bleach she put in it and tried to run over me with the car that I had just bought for her hours before.

I never hit her. Some “men” might be saying that if it was them they would have done some degree of violence to her in order to, I don’t know, show their dick size or something. No, that isn’t the way it works.

You walk away. You defend yourself if you need to, I’m not saying don’t stop a punch or, in my case, mitigate the wound depth by grabbing her arm before the knife was all the way in. Then I walked away.

It’s never okay, I don’t care what argument you come to me with, it is never okay.

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