Frau Mutter Renate
Vintage Feministisch, Von eine Frau für Frauen, weibliche Gesundheit, die Zukunft ist weiblich, women health, mental health, self growing, Woman life style, feminin, koscher , halal
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Mein Kopf ist ein deutsches Arbeitsamt.
Meine äußere Erscheinung ein französisches Manifest von Simplizität, Bequemlichkeit und Eleganz.
Und meine innere Kritikerin ist ein alter Jude, der eine zweite Synagoge gründet, weil er zur ersten nicht gehen will.
Wie soll man sich fokussieren, wenn Palästina in der Küche steht?
Ganz einfach:
Man schreibt.
Man redet.
Man lacht über den inneren Rabbi, streitet mit dem deutschen Beamten, und lässt den Tee nicht überkochen.
Kategorie: Kaffeesatz & Kriegsberichte einer Frau
metaphorisch, trifft dein ganzes Weltgefühl: Alltag + Trauma + Satire
Wo Feminismus trifft sich mit täglichen Problemen.
meistens duo lingual EN/ DE manchmal nur in eine spräche.
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( Two Paths – Dame Drawer ) “𝓐𝓷 𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓭𝓾𝓪𝓵’𝓼 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓸𝓶 𝓲𝓼 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓪𝓼 𝓮𝔁𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓪𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓼𝓸𝓬𝓲𝓮𝓽𝔂 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓲𝓽𝓼.” – 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱𝓻𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓖𝓻𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓚𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓴 𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓹𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓼𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓞̈𝓴𝓸𝓷𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓮, 𝓚𝓪𝓻𝓵 𝓜𝓪𝓻𝔁 A few months ago, we talked about Monique and Aisha — both my friends, both with a past that could break anyone, yet both…
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Long, long time… but not that long ago, behind Zakopane, behind Snieszka, but before the Baltic Sea, there lived a curious creature called Woman. A terrible creature, some said. She gave zero fluff about belonging. She chose to belong only to her dog—a Mini Schnauzer, enormous in her mind, but tiny in reality. Yet, as…
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I can’t say many positive things about my mother, but I do remember a few. She loved books and was really good at reading—better than I ever will be. When she was relaxed, she was careful with her words. Sometimes, even, she could be loving. But most of the time, she was a monster to…
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In the strategic game of chess, the Queen is the most powerful piece, capable of moving in multiple directions and controlling vast areas of the board. If a player begins to undermine or oppose their own Queen, the game becomes unbalanced, and victory becomes increasingly unattainable. This metaphor aptly reflects societal structures where the empowerment…
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I knew it — but I didn’t want to believe. He believed too — though he never knew in what, or perhaps he simply refused to ask. I knew there would be miscommunication. I knew he would twist every calm into a theatre of control. And yet… I didn’t want to see it. Because to…
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Modern Womanhood as the Polished Cage of Independence When I was a child, my dreams were not small: corsets, broad skirts, heavy forest-green gowns dragging across wooden floors. I imagined myself as Anne, but taller, darker, and dressed like a gothic heroine who could still milk a cow at dawn. My mother, however, was not…
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When I was a child, I knew this much: if I didn’t become a journalist, I would end up a prostitute. Because the one thing I never wanted was to lie to a man the way my mother did. “I love you.” She said it and killed love with the same breath. You can’t choose…
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Picture this: you’re sipping your morning coffee, green tea, or matcha latte, scrolling through your social media feed, when suddenly, a video blares through your speakers. A man, eyes wide with indignation, declares, “We’ve had enough! It’s time to fight back!” You pause, intrigued. Against what? Artificial intelligence? Robots that can be pregnant? You try…
