Pgh Lesbian Correspondents

It feels important to acknowledge this day, this anniversary of a terrible series of events two years ago that upended my life forever. You can read the details here. The details matter, of course, but at the same time – it is today that matters.

My due process rights were violated. I was homeless for 196 days. I was treated like a broken toy, tossed into the rubbish pile and discarded without any thought. My friends were kind enough, but had their lives disrupted for six months. My cats regressed in their socialization. I lost my primary source of income and so much more.

I lost my wife, her family, and the life we had built together over 20 years.

It was a brutal, cruel, and dehumanizing experience. It transformed my life and I will never be the version of Sue Kerr who existed August 26, 2023.

But still, I am here. I got myself home. Everything is different even those things that feel most familiar. I want to stay in my home even in a new configuration. I want to find a new path forward even if its shrouded in clouds now. I work very hard in therapy, I rebuilt Pittsburgh LGBTQ Charities. Even I embrace new experiences like food pantries to support me.

I have friends who have lent me cars, given me rides, go out to lunch, serve as my plus one at artistic events, call me, text me, and always, always remind me that they support me and believe me.

I have two lawsuits to address the wrong that was done to me, but I must look forward and keep moving ahead. I am relying on you to help me finance the law suits for my sake and the sake of others who might experience a similar fate. To help me with living expenses as well while I get my footing.

My understanding of the legal systems has increased dramatically as has my sense of where systems fail us. I’ve learned that tenacity and patience must balance each other in my heart so I can cope with the system. Many tears have flowed, angry words shouted to the heavens, despair weighing down my heart and soul. There is hope, but the ebb and flow of the tides of justice are challenging.

I truly believe that protecting and expanding domestic partnerships in Pennsylvania is critical for all LGBTQ families, especially with new threats and the inevitable fall of marriage equality. I suspect existing marriages will be nullified and we will be once again relegated to second class status.

Also, I believe that I am not alone in how I was treated during the 302 or involuntary civil commitment process – by the County, by UPMC, by the police, and public servants whose jobs are to protect us. The importance of due process is front and center in national politics, so must it be on the local level.

Perhaps it sounds arrogant to think I could change the law to do better by all of us. But I’ve beaten my head against many an unforgiving door only to find a little crack of light that paves the way forward.

But I must preserve myself – to ensure good housing, healthcare, food security, and the resources to continue blogging. A tall order on $1500/month. It will take creativity, a fair shake in the trials, and your support to find that way forward.

I can’t go back to Sue Kerr pre-August 26, 2023 and I do not want to do so. She was too trusting, too naive, and too self-righteous. I didn’t understand what defunding the police really meant because I was too wrapped in my privilege even thought I strove to do better. I had no real expectation that people in my adult life could be as bad or worse as the monster who shaped my childhood, stripping away the tools necessary to get along in this world. I didn’t appreciate the simply joys.

Perhaps the blog will go by the wayside and I will try to make due living in the poverty that defines so many of my neighbors’ experiences. I understand poverty and deprivation and if they are to define the final chapters of my life, so be it. I don’t deserve it, but no one does.

One of the biggest contributors to my growth has been the children – my nephews E and Josiah who welcomed me into their home and their daily routines with love and care. Just today I spent time with my friend’s little ones – S and E who gave me the ultimate compliment of wanting to sit next to me and declaring me a silly lady. Their sweetness healed my heart a bit. A source of heartbreak has been the severing of my relationship with my wife’s niece and nephew. I can only leave the door open to reunite if they choose now or in the future. And my brother’s children who don’t want to meet me, but are part of my DNA.

I miss my mother-in-law. I will probably never see her again. I wish I could tell her what she meant to all , the joy and understanding she brought to my life.

I miss my wife. I miss the person she was or who I thought she was. Did she despise me all of those years? Did something change? I always thought we were two broken people who clung to each other, to heal together if perhaps on different time lines. I thought we were in this together even when it was hard or challenging or frustrating. I thought marriage was built on working through those moments versus fleeing from them.

I’ll probably never know. Or stop wondering.

I need your help to move forward. There are legal bills to pay and they will grow. The blog requires financial support. My cats need to be fed as do I. I count on your love for me as well as the bigger picture – the blog, the legal questions, the precedent these ungodly experiences might set for others.

Just like when I was a child, cold, hungry, and at the whim of an evil man – I longed for an adult to help me. I guess I still do. But in the meantime, I have to help myself.

It is exhausting to consider crowdfunding my entire life. That’s no way to live.

• GoFundMe bit.ly/HelpLGBTQBlogger
• Venmo @Pghlesbian
• Paypal.me/Pghlesbian
• CashApp $Pghlesbian
• Zelle sitnscoop@gmail.com

Ruthlessly ripping the pain of the dissolution of a marriage open to the light of day is not something most people do. If more of the adults in my life had examined their pain and trauma in the sunshine of their lives, maybe it would all be different. I want the children in my family to know that it is okay to be honest about the good and the bad. To strive for self-sufficiency and ask for help.

This is not what I imagined 54 would look like. My 50th birthday was during the pandemic so the special getaway we had planned never materialized. I thought it would happen at age 55. Not gonna happen. But I still have six years to make this decade count for something.

I intend to try.