Frau Mutter Renate

My name is Nurbanu. Not short for anything. Not an influencer name. Just Nurbanu. I convertet to islam month ago but I have a huge sentiment to judaism.

I am a fiercely introverted, poetry-loving, dog-prioritising woman with a deep aversion to nonsense – especially the kind that comes in male form, wears cologne, and begins sentences with “not all men”.

I identify as fabulously rich – in taste, intellect, and quiet vengeance – though, regrettably, my bank account has yet to catch up. That will change. Possibly after I’ve bought a dishwasher, which ranks somewhere between oxygen and emotional stability in my current hierarchy of needs.

I write because it keeps me from throttling the world. That’s it. No grand calling. Just survival with a bit of flair.

My dog is the love of my life. Turkish dramas are my guilty pleasure (though I rarely finish them – who has the time?). I adore flowers, as long as they’re not lilac. I repeat: not lilac. That colour was colonised by an ex, and is now emotionally banned from my home, wardrobe, and mental state.

Favourite colour? Bottle green. Like wealth. Like forests. Like things that are alive but dangerous.

Food? Vegan, reluctantly. Vegetarisch in emergencies. Not for the planet – let’s be honest – but because I once ate scampi in Auschwitz and they looked at me. With eyes. If you know, you know.

Things I enjoy:

– Deep solitude with meaning

– Women who don’t play dumb

– Poesy that wounds gently

– Objects that outlive their owners

– Leonard Cohen singing “I’m Your Man” while I stare into nothing, contemplating life choices

— Frech audio books

__ Femininity

Things I would throw into the sea without blinking:

– Dishwashing

– Men explaining things to me I already know

– Every single platform owned by Meta or LinkedIn

– WordPress block editor (if you know, you suffer)

– The assumption that being feminine means being soft

I prefer green velvet over pink glitter, silence over gossip, and long thoughts over small opinions.

I am straight. Regrettably. Don’t ask.

I have a tendency to forget people exist once they’re no longer on my screen – it’s not personal. It’s neurological.

If you’re still reading, congratulations: you either have taste or too much time. Either way, welcome.

✦ If you’ve read this far… thank you.

✦ This space feels better when it’s shared.

Tell me something about you — I’d love to know who’s reading.

Let’s not be strangers.