Frau Mutter Renate

𝒯𝒽𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒽𝑜’𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒶 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝑜𝓌𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝒶 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓋𝒾𝓃𝓉𝒶𝑔𝑒 𝒻𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓈𝓂 – 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼’𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝒶 𝒻𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓈𝓉. 𝒲𝒽𝓎? 𝐵𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓃 𝒻𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓈𝓂 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒶 𝒷𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝒻𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓁𝓈. 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒾𝒹𝑒𝒶 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝒷𝓁𝑒: 𝓌𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝑜𝓈𝑒 – 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒶 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒𝓌𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝑜𝓇 𝒶 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃. 𝐼, 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝑜𝓃𝑒, 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒶 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁-𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓇𝓅𝑜𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝑔𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒹. 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹𝓇𝑒𝓃, 𝒶 𝒸𝑜𝓉𝓉𝒶𝑔𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉𝓇𝓎𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝓈𝒶𝓌 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓋𝒾𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝓈 𝑜𝓅𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝓈 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝑜𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝓉 – 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝐼 𝒶𝓂, 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓇𝓉𝓎, 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓃𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓃𝑜 𝒸𝓁𝓊𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝑜 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓈. 𝑀𝓎 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓁𝓁. 𝐼 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓌𝑒’𝒹 𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒾𝓉, 𝓂𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉𝓇𝓎𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝒾𝓇𝓇𝑜𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇’𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎 – 𝓈𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒, 𝓈𝑜𝓁𝒾𝒹, 𝓈𝒶𝒻𝑒. 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝓃𝑜. 𝐻𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒶𝒹𝓋𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈 𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁𝑒𝓉’𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓈𝒶𝓎… 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝒻𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒷𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓈𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓈. 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓈𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝒶 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹. 𝐵𝓎 𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓉𝑒𝑒𝓃, 𝐼’𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝑒𝓃𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝑜𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒢𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓎. 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒, 𝐼 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝒸𝓀𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒𝓌𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝒷𝒾𝑔 𝒻𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 – 𝒶 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂.

𝕄𝕪 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝔾𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕟 ℝ𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡: 𝔸 𝕁𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥

At 19, I moved to Germany, where I met André. He was older, raised in a family where equality was paramount—both parents worked, shared household duties, and upheld progressive values. I, on the other hand, was accustomed to a traditional setup: a stay-at-home mother and a stepfather who worked. Our differences were evident from the start. He thrived in the nightlife, enjoying parties and late nights, while I cherished early mornings and quiet evenings. His friends often made remarks about my housekeeping, and though he defended me, the underlying tension was palpable.

Financially, we were mismatched. He insisted on splitting bills 50/50, a concept I struggled with, not just due to my limited understanding but because it clashed with my upbringing. I worked hard, often late into the evening, earning well but uncertain about managing the money. He, however, never saw me as an equal partner. I suspected he still harboured feelings for his ex, who seemed ever-present in our lives. They shared values, unlike us. One night, he mixed drugs into my Coca-Cola to keep me awake during a club outing. I despised it—the noise, the crowd, the unwanted attention from men. He couldn’t comprehend my discomfort. Then, I met Katharina. She was an average woman, yet her life had transformed. She met her German partner, who immediately insisted she stop working and focus on learning German. He paid for her courses and insurance. Their life was different—structured, aligned, and supportive. It made me reflect deeply. I realised André never truly saw me as a person, let alone a worthy partner. Our values, interests, and expectations were worlds apart. So, I left.

Study Reference:

Research consistently shows that couples sharing similar values, interests, and life goals tend to experience higher relationship satisfaction. A study by Ruth Gaunt (2006) found that greater similarity between partners was associated with higher levels of marital satisfaction and lower levels of negative affect.

For further reading, you can access the study here: Couple Similarity and Marital Satisfaction: Are Similar Spouses Happier?

https://www.sciencenewstoday.org/new-study-reveals-the-importance-of-shared-reality-in-romantic-relationships: 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓑𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓤𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 – 𝓕𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓼𝓶 𝓜𝓪𝓭𝓮 𝓡𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓹𝓼 𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓭𝔂 𝓑𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 ♚♛❣️

After my break with André, I went to Spain and travelled a lot. That’s when I met Tomek. Even though he was Polish, we didn’t share the same values. He wanted parties; I was focused on work. Together, we made great money and, on paper, seemed like the perfect Slavic power couple—good-looking, ambitious. I was too young and naive to see what was really happening. Tomek led the parties; he drank heavily, and we fought constantly. One of his friends confronted me while I was half-asleep, trying to convince myself it was just a bad dream. But it wasn’t. His girlfriend, proud of him, only made things worse. I finally drew a line: no more drugs, no more parties in the place we shared. The fallout was brutal. When I went to work one morning, he’d thrown out all my clothes. We had a terrible fight, and eventually, I returned to Poland. But one of my clients insisted I come back to Germany—offered me an apartment, steady work. Foolishly, I agreed. One of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made. Then I met Mike. We weren’t in a relationship; I couldn’t be. Trust felt impossible. Later, I saw Tomek again. We tried to be friends, even worked together occasionally to earn more. But on 1 January, during a small party with two of his gay friends, he attacked me. I went to the police, pressed charges, and in the shock tried to hold myself together. I also struggled with a serious alcohol problem. And then I met Eran. Incredible, amazing Man but six months later, I found out he was married. Again, completely different values, a completely different ideology. And yet, I was in love. It forced me to confront a truth I had avoided: I am a strong, independent woman. That’s what life in Germany teaches you. Women’s rights are real here; we are strong, everywhere you turn. Prostitution is legal. Friendships exist everywhere. I had my friends at the tattoo studio—so many crazy, fun moments. Friends at the language school, where I learned Hebrew. I was never truly alone, surrounded by the most extraordinary women you could imagine. Each of their stories could fill a book. And I learned a hard truth: hyper-dependence is destructive. My dream of being a traditional woman—quiet, home-focused, compliant—was shattered. Completely. And that’s the reality I had to face.

𝔼𝕣𝕒𝕟, 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕔𝕦𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕆𝕝𝕕-𝔽𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝔻𝕪𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕔𝕤

One day, while working at a massage salon, Aaron called and asked when I would finish work. I didn’t think much of it and gave no specific answer. That was it—no further questions, no further explanations. I went out with my colleagues, relaxed, and chatted. And there he was, standing outside my workplace, by his newest car, holding the doors open for me. I got in. That was the only interaction, silent and simple. The next day, someone asked me about it. I casually explained it was just a friend. I remained, in fact, his affair for eight years. A week later, the situation repeated itself. This time, I mentioned I was going for coffee with my friend. Aaron offered to join us if we didn’t mind. My friend and I got in his car silently, and we had a lot of fun. He ordered our food, took complete control—the way I liked it. I loved him for being decisive, for letting me relax and not have to think about anything while sitting beside him. The next day at work, I had a long conversation with my friend Rachel about relationships. She said she didn’t even know she could ask her boyfriend to pay for meals. She worked for her studies, went out occasionally, but always paid her own bills. I couldn’t understand it. To me, it would be completely unacceptable to pay for food while out with a man. Then I realised I had done something similar with my flatmate Dirk—letting him feel like a “real man” while shopping, even though there was no intimacy involved. Dirk explained that German women rarely allow men to hold doors or carry bags because they are so independent. I couldn’t understand this. In my mind, I dressed elegantly for him; I wore heels, I was not going to carry bags in high heels while he stood like some pampered sultan. That just wouldn’t do. Perhaps it was also because, after Tomek, I didn’t date Germans or Poles. Most of my partners were Russian-speaking. For them, “princess treatment” was expected—men would feel demeaned if they couldn’t pamper a woman, pay for her, or see her dressed elegantly beside them. Meanwhile, the German man had his sense of masculinity and usefulness stripped away. Why? Because modern feminism has removed so many traditional roles. Society has shifted left, and men have been relieved of daily responsibility. They drift through life half-conscious, believing mere existence is enough—but it isn’t. And then these men meet women like me. Old-fashioned women. Women who don’t wear trousers because it’s unfeminine and uncomfortable. Women who may not seek a career, who prefer to stay in the background, needing a man to be the wall that protects them. Men feel lost, confused, unable to navigate a world where feminism has stripped them of their traditional roles. They become social invalids.

Scientific Insight: Shared Values and Traditional Roles in Relationships

Studies show that alignment in values and expectations about roles significantly affects relationship satisfaction. For example, research in the Journal of Social and Personal Relationships found that couples with complementary expectations about household duties, financial roles, and decision-making report higher satisfaction and less conflict (source).

Similarly, studies in cross-cultural psychology indicate that men often experience lower relationship satisfaction when they perceive their traditional role of provider or protector is ignored or devalued. Conversely, women who value traditional gestures—chivalry, protection, shared attention—experience higher satisfaction when their partner respects these expectations (Psychology Today).

The takeaway: shared expectations, whether traditional or modern, are critical. Conflicting role expectations—where one partner values independence and the other traditional gestures—can lead to misunderstandings, dissatisfaction, and emotional distance.

𝕄𝕚𝕣𝕛𝕒𝕞 – 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕥 𝔹𝕖𝕥𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕀𝕕𝕖𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕣𝕖

Lately in my life, I’ve met so many women—Jewish, Muslim, Christian, atheist—all of them powerful and beautiful in their own way. But one specific Jewish woman, Mirjam, will stay in my memory for a long time. She was German who converted to Judaism, and was fiercely proud of it—as if the act of conversion somehow offset the fact that her grandfather had been a Nazi soldier. I never understood that pride. Did she believe it made her superior? We’ll never know. What I did observe, even without a psychology degree, was her inner conflict. On one hand, she was desperate to remain independent and feminist. On the other, she yearned for a traditional family life. Yet when I told her I was a housewife, she looked at me with disgust—despite the fact she wanted the same thing. Her internal contradiction was so strong she couldn’t resolve it. Later, she moved to Israel and sought an Orthodox husband. When we spoke, I tried to offer clarity—the way Eran always did when I was confused. I said to her, “If you want a traditional family, learn to cook. Not just that weaponised brick of bread that might stop a bullet—but food that nourishes your husband and children.” She challenged me, thinking I had no idea. I grinned and accepted the test. I taught her how to make pierogi, a basic vegetable salad, Polish-style potato salad. I showed her more about kosher cooking than she knew herself. She invited a crush for Shabbat dinner. Ironically, thanks to her flatmate Ischai, I managed to extract myself without becoming her enemy. That man, it turned out, was sentimental about Polish food—his grandmother had been Polish. He was fascinated by the food, and, worse for Mirjam, by my mind. Suddenly, it didn’t matter I wasn’t Jewish. Mirjam turned toxic. And I thought: Girl, I cooked for you, cleaned your flat for Shabbat, helped with your outfit—because what you picked was fine for home, but not for a relationship.

I taught her to walk in heels without looking like a cartoon duck. Yet we clashed. Why? Because she wasn’t at peace with herself. Caught between “I am a feminist and independent woman, I can do everything” and “I don’t want to be alone; I don’t want to do it all alone.”

Modern feminism has turned into a sort of dictatorship:

• You must have a career—but dare not be a housewife.

• You must have children—but don’t be too involved.

If you break down “parents”, you get “pair” and “renting” – a couple renting kids. From whom, if the couple created them? The state? Politicians pushing endless work?

At the end of the day, I ask:

• What do politicians fear more?

• A traditional family who homeschools, supports individuality, lives in harmony?

• Or a world full of confused people who cling to direction because they’re deeply unsatisfied with themselves?

Scientific Insights on Values, Roles & Relationship Tensions

1. Shared Roles & Relationship Satisfaction

Research from the Journal of Social and Personal Relationships shows marital satisfaction increases when couples share traditional roles, but only if they both value those roles. When both partners endorse the same values about roles, satisfaction is higher—and conflict is lower  .

2. Complementary Gender Role Attitudes

A study from the US and Germany found that relationships benefit when both partners’ attitudes toward gender roles align—even if one is more egalitarian and the other more traditional. Happiness is greater when values complement each other  .

Your Turn: The Conversation Starter

I understand Mirjam isn’t the only one with that inner conflict—you’ve spoken of Jale too, torn between wanting a rich husband and a cosy home, and still believing she deserved a man who treated her as special. In my view, modern feminism’s problem isn’t equality—it’s the pace, the push, and the complete absence of learning material for men. Men today can feel lost—not needed, but wanted. And the aggression we see? Often born of that disorientation.

So tell me:

What’s your take on relationships and roles today?

Do you see similar conflicts around you? Do you think men feel unwelcome or lost? Let’s talk about it—drop a comment and share your thoughts.