Happy Brexit: A Divorce Nobody Should Want

A good table to sit on...

"There is no reason to pretend this is a happy day", Donald Tusk said when receiving a letter from Theresa May triggering Article 50. "We already miss you." Truer words have never been spoken. Today has been one of the most awkward days of my life. I live in the UK, yet I have never felt less connected to this country than today. I will be directly affected by this ridiculously foolish decision its people made in June, but let's not wallow in the fact this was, objectively, a disaster. The will of the people, no matter how stupid, has directed democracy, and it's democracy we believe in, so I may complain but I can't object: Brexit needs to happen. At the same time, this political event is by far the saddest one I've witnessed in my lifetime and frankly, I still can't believe it's happening.

I am a guest in this country and, just like they wanted me to love Egypt in Egypt, or love America in America, I will not agree with its decisions because of the status I have as a guest. This decision is wrong, and even as a bearer of the fruits this country brings to its citizens I cannot help but to deeply object with the one that was made here. In Egypt, I was alienated for my criticism of the country. People believed, since I had such a good life there, I shouldn't talk ill. What I thought about that attitude I can only summarize in holding up one finger, a particular one. This time it won't be different, especially since it's my status as a guest that is at risk here, and I am therefore not just somebody who is freeloading on the benefits but someone who has clearly been told by the people who feel entitled to the fruits I'm bearing here that I am no longer welcome.

Brexit is directly affecting us. As a German, I can probably relax because this uniquely ridiculous decision will probably not cost us much. The people who voted for it are most likely going to suffer the most, next to the ones who didn't vote that way but have to suffer the consequences for their less intelligent fellow countrymen. But as a German in the UK, I am no longer safe from the curse of Brexit. More so than the fear of not being able to stay it's the feeling of not being wanted that makes today so difficult. I live in a country, ultimately, that does not appreciate my contribution to its success. Not mine or anyone else's, except of those who were born here and therefore deserve the accolade of being called British. Sure, the British just wanted to be governed by their own again, but if you accepted that our mutual understanding in Europe and cooperation was something of value, we would not be sad today.

There is no other reason for Brexit other than a majority perceiving that the bad coming out of an organization founded upon the belief that two (or 27) is better than one outweighs the good. To be of that opinion is ludicrous to me. It's a bad lesson to send to our children and it's a less advantageous world for them to grow up in, too. Goodbye free education in continental Europe, British kids. Goodbye waking up in Berlin on a random night out in London, British adolescence. Goodbye shopping for the nicest goods and foods in a strong, single market, British adults. And goodbye expanding your businesses to new shores, British companies. So many people will live a lesser life because of the (wrong) perception of a few too many that Brussels is imposing on their lives, refugees are stealing their jobs and /or the money paid for universal care in a continent looking out for each other is money badly spent. It's a shame. And today, it's reality.

Out of all the things that happened in this past year that I never thought would, this one is by far the most shocking. I'm just hoping that today is not the beginning of a historical period because if today is the first step, the path we are on is one I would not like to pursue. Let us see it as an epic reminder. And I hope that the people in my own country never want to make our guests feel like I feel here: not welcome. Nobody around me voted for Brexit and I'm pretty sure they're not pissed I'm here but if a country, a whole country, has decided to say "nay" to your country's effort to shake their hand, it simply doesn't feel like friendship. And idealism is what I thought the commitment was to. After somebody leaves your house when you invite them over on that bad of a note, you won't like the next time you're over at their house either. I will miss them in our union, I regret their decision, but I'd rather see this as a warning sign that we have to work harder for our existing friendships because offering that hand is not all there is to be done; it also has to be accepted.

Schulz Wars: Episode 2017 - A New Hope

It seems like it was only yesterday (mainly because it pretty much was) when the whole world was moaning about the choice the Americans were facing in November 2016. Clinton, oh my God, they said. She is a liar and an immoral woman. And oh yeah, she is a woman. A woman who has hormones. Oh God, no, please not that woman. But the alternative wasn't much better, was it? The alternative was an orange monster that continues to be perceived as such, only now he brings his whole family and staff. It was, even then, a horrible choice. The choice between the plague and cholera. About a year later, my own country has to make a choice between a man and a woman. The choice there is really hard as well but for the complete opposite reason: it's super tough to decide who is actually more awesome.

None of that should matter because in Germany we elect a party, and that's the way it should be. Whoever leads that party shouldn't really matter, but it does. In Germany, we will end up with either our veteran badass lady Angela Merkel, head of the Conservative Party, or newcomer in Germany, EU pimp and hope of anyone below 50 to maybe have a future that includes safety and money, Martin Schulz, soon-to-be head of the Social Democrats. I'm a party member of the latter, so my choice, quite frankly, was made before Martin, as I get to call him as a pretentious party comrade, entered the scene. Before I go into detail, again, how Martin Schulz makes my political heart skip a beat, I have to say though: to know that if we lose, Angela Merkel is the consolation prize, is a wonderful feeling in a political world that is currently engulfed in Orban, Wilders and LePen-induced darkness.

I'd never vote for Angela Merkel because she simply didn't choose the right party for me to tick her box, but that lady has had some glorious moments. Germany is in good shape and she represented us well. For me, the current prosperity is the last excuse her party had for neglecting the people, focusing on the numbers. Yes, our numbers are great, the whole world envies that. We wear nice things, we have great health care and go on holiday on the entire planet. And then there are those you don't see in restaurants, at the movies, taking part in mine and your circle. We don't see them because they simply can't afford to play like we play. They're invisible because their welfare checks barely buy them a dignified life, as we like to call it. And we don't wanna see them either, otherwise the Conservative party wouldn't have hauled in 49% in the last election. These people are neither less hard-working nor less intelligent as us, the lucky, privileged masses. They're just simply not as lucky.

Let's pass the mic to Martin Schulz at this point. He talks about justice, and that whatever is going on in Germany right now is unjust. Of course those who were born to a middle class or above family, got to go to the best schools for free, then studied finance or medicine (again, for free!) would have difficulties relating to those Martin Schulz is encouraging to ask for more justice. When everything is free and we're told all the time we are all equal, the impression arises that those in the council block around the corner had the same chance as I, a woman with two Masters and a fancy job abroad. I worked hard, maybe they didn't. Perceiving injustice is really hard because it requires people to question whether they're right or not. Opinions are a product of personality; the facts, however, are different. We aren't equal, and luck still plays a much bigger role than it should. If what we truly desire is equality for everyone, we still have a big chunk of injustice to clean up, even though the whole world buys our cars and our household is flourishing.

Martin Schulz might know a little bit more about that than most people. I hear in almost every talk show that people are complaining about the lack of manifesto: what does Schulz really want? I haven't read a manifesto, but I know the answer. How? Because the an has been my hero for four years, I've had the privilege to hear him and speak to him on many occasions. Martin Schulz has been the subject of many of my blogs because to me, he is what Michael Jackson is to music and Cristiano is to football: so good at what they do that it's inconceivable they would ever do something else. Martin Schulz has the talents of a politician, namely the presence and skill of a great speaker as well as the ability to really encourage people to care about issues. Many politicians have made it big with these talents without having great convictions, but Martin Schulz has stood for the end to youth unemployment, right-wing populism and that nasty ailing of a continent in perfect health for years as the one of the greatest in Europe for years, and now we have a chance to let him steer our ship.

Social democrats are failing all over the place, and my personal explanation is that they are simply closing their eyes from the fact that they are the party of those in the middle, still working, still trying, and that many people have lost touch to these realities. How do I know? A middle class nation interested in fairness wouldn't call for Angela Merkel to be ousted based on her letting refugees in the country. Social democrats in Germany have rightfully identified we can't save every single life, but we can try a lot harder than the other countries in our union. Angela Merkel knows that, but her party and her electorate do not. And lest we forget, we elect a party. It seems that Angela Merkel is the perfect choice as a person, just like Kohl was all these years being the man that reunited us all. But when all we really have left to really FIX, as in completely mend, is people desperately watching all Germans get richer while they are being left behind, then it's time for change. With all of Europe turning more right, hence less inclusive and less understanding of those who were not born with their unaware privilege, those who are aware need to start speaking a little louder.

What sort of completely misinformed individual would perceive refugees, terrorism, or even more ridiculous, "the unknown" of globalization as the biggest threat in Germany? The rest of Europe is not Germany. We should know better! We have learned, we don't like ignorance, we try harder to remember and are truthful to ourselves. As a result, we can really, truly be a beacon for Europe. It's our time to show that our hard work as a nation has made us a compassionate people that looks out for everyone, not just ourselves. Not like Americans. Better! We don't need to save the EU because if it does fail, we lose the least. The question is, though: do we still want to? I do. I'm not poor, disadvantaged or depending on the single market. Hell, I live in Brexitland, it's too late for me. In the end, you could probably argue my life won't change if Merkel or Schulz win. What would change is our message to the world: One on inclusion and response to insanity such as Brexit. The only thing I want Schulz for Germany for is to feel like we got the chance to show we care about those who were forgotten or are about to be kicked to the curb and we took it. More than ever, I want to vote for the candidate that loves Europe as much as I do. I won't ever be able to repay those suckers in Brussels for everything they've done for me, but I can vote for their mate Martin who's worked hard for me in the past two decades. I personally can't wait for it...

Cambridge Now: You Only Get One First Impression

I always said these partially hideous blog posts of mine are really some sort of diary; just an image of a moment. A moment I felt, a moment I experienced, a moment that changed my life. For that picture I'm painting I'm just ditching the brush and use words as colors instead. Sometimes more successfully than other times. Reading these things back makes me cringe 99% of the time, yet, at some point in my life that's apparently how I felt. And now, since I moved to a new place for the xth time in my life, I need to capture the moment. I have to explain to future me how I felt about the first couple of weeks in my new home because I don't know yet how long it will be home. And I don't know if one day that picture I'm painting today will be outdated, its colors faded or maybe even destroyed. But even a picture that becomes valuable only as time passes is a picture worth painting.

If the last few weeks were colors, they'd be orange, yellow and green. These positive colors aren't chosen by coincidence, and unlike most times they aren't merely a reflection of the weather. My start in Cambridge has been so positive that the prospect of these colors turning to the darker shades at least feels unlikely. Unlike other times this move didn't come at the end of a miserable time where I was desperate for the new. And yet new, with just the right amount of old, is what I got. And more. I'm now back on an island I once called home, however, other than the repulsive quality of wine and the occasional cottage little reminds me of Scotland. The English really do feel like a sufficiently different set, but I haven't decided in what sense yet.

To assume that I'm in the country I know best is incorrect. Let's sum up my life in scotland. There are a few staple Scottish things that made my world go round: identifying bars with one pound drinks, sausage rolls from Gregg's, scanning home bargains and pound land for all living expenses, keeping indoors, baaaanter and, of course, Scots, the best countrymen a country could have. Where is all this in England? I quite literally haven't had, nor do I expect to find, a single item priced one pound even in the shadiest of pubs, there is only one Gregg's in this entire city, conveniently right next to the only poundland, and I've never seen a city more capable of attracting even the nerdiest computer geek outside because the weather is amazing and the scenery breathtaking. Of course I'm also an active, less alcoholic woman today and simply wouldn't be looking for that anymore. Still, I'm not "home"; I'm in a new place.

That leaves the only comparison to be left making: Haggis vs Yorkshire Pie, whiskey vs gin, Mary vs Elizabeth. I'm talking about the Scots vs the English. I have been sufficiently indoctrinated to prefer the Scottish and I have now been challenged. The prospect of watching the Six Nations game between the two in England stressed me out enough to seek refuge in Germany over the weekend and at least be surrounded by three Scots at a German pub. The heart is with Scotland and likely always will be. But I live in England now and I'm not Scottish, do as a result, I have no reason to hate. My first impression has of course been affected by a deep disdain for the English in my circle for four years, yet I've seldom been received in a country better than here. Then again, we're talking about a highly personal picture here and I,  as is commonly known, am just lucky. I meet great people, it's my thing.

I started out my mission "moving abroad attempt #370" by staying with a work mate for a few days who offered for me to crash without having met me. Awesome! I also quickly found out that the people around me at my job and in my house at the very least don't suck either. Awesome! Finally, I came to realize I have moved to the prettiest place this country probably has. It is awesome! I now have a job I enjoy, a space to call my own, and am surrounded by beauty which are, no joke, realities I didn't think I'd ever enjoy simultaneously. I don't have a dog yet so to say everything is perfect would be a straight out lie; at the same time, the potential for this to turn into an epic success, a job I will continue to be challenged by, a place I can find friends and loved ones (and maybe even get a dog) has never been higher. Now this picture of enthusiasm and positivity may fade to grey, but just like a picture only time will reveal the true value of this message. All I care about right now is that I'm doing the best I can to prevent it from being a bomb, and the color kit I'm working with looks promising...

International Woman's Day: What Am I Expecting From A Day?

I actually remember last year when I wrote a blog on International Woman's Day where I truly reflected on a woman's strength, be it the force she's actually reckoned with or her use of coercion and other hidden "talents" most women have. What a difference a year makes, right? Back then, being the badass bitch was a survival mechanism whereas now I quite enjoy being as tender of a flower as I can be. Today, one year later, I have found that my view on women was challenged like it never has in the past year. Hillary lost, I returned to a casually sexist continent and I was quite literally refused my dream job because I was sitting opposite chauvinists in the interview. One can say I have an opinion on the matter. Yet, today I realized how wrong the association we have with the day, the matter or the term in itself is. And I truly had to ask myself the questions: where do I want to see this go? Where am I on the matter? And, most importantly, is there a point to it? Spoiler Alert: I'm not about to empower women, I'm mainly just trying to understand why we aren't just all agreeing on high fiving all women all the days of our life...

To elaborate on my experience today I should elaborate myself. IWD is a great occasion for me! I didn't really think of the possibility to land some recognition on this particular day, but I approve of a day that recognizes the importance of an entire gender in society. I may joke about this being my day of honor but no woman genuinely feels like it's a day we go on the hunt for compliments, doors being opened or some flowers. What does become evident is that on 364 days a year, the world, including its women, do not think of the reality that our lives aren't balanced and that we are still struggling with prejudice that can make a real difference in our life. I am truly, whole-heartedly privileged and don't feel like I get to complain about my disadvantages because I haven't had that many in my life. However, those I did have would not have occurred if I was born as a man. And that in itself does not deserve pity, but maybe a minute or two to think about.

I am a little concerned I come off as one of those woman that is fighting with a hammer for women's rights. They aren't wrong, but it's a fight for human beings, and I'd do the same for men, children and other minorities. Just because I belong to this one, I may have a bit more fire in it but that does not mean my daily life has to be dominated by feminism. I'm not aggressive. I'm not demanding a change. I casually experience how the term "feminism "is misinterpreted, and every person who's ever thought about it knows what I mean.  I want equality. That does not contradict being weaker when carrying a heavy object, or appreciating a door to be held, or wanting to be naked on the cover of a magazine. And wanting that equality does not mean I have to underline my achievements at all time or belittle those who don't have them, especially men. That there is a negative connotation to a term that essentially means I feel like I should be given the same chance as a man is outrageous.

I found myself talking to my ex-boyfriend from a few years ago the other day as we revisited our relationship. I was called a manipulator in this friendly conversation and the man was right: I had completely used the full toolkit of being a woman to make this guy be a good boyfriend. Apologies were in order, and I realized the fallacy I had committed. If I NEED to use my gender toolkit to make something right, it isn't. That behavior is the opposite of equality, and I feel bad. And after all, this guy wished women a happy IWD today and appears to at least try to make an effort being respectful to women nowadays. A man does not need to understand the struggle of a woman because he can't. Even for women like me, who has never felt like I was disadvantaged although I know I was, the nicest feeling would be to just be myself and not fearing it would be received in a certain way because of my gender, never mind my stance on equality.  My colleague was cutting a tough, mature cheddar for me today, laughing about the fact that I wasn't able to do it on a day like today, and I will never, even on the day of complete equality, not ask for help with cutting my cheese. And I will forever appreciate being considered, even if just by having the door held. Because everyone, man or woman, would.

It goes as far as seeing feminists and actually thinking "oh dear, I hope that doesn't give off the wrong impression" for me. I am aware that demanding equality is a long process that doesn't happen on a day like today, but stirring a conversation has got to be a good thing. I also understand that after the whole perception this whole issue gets many feel like rolling their eyes. What it actually left me with today is insecurity. I am between actually believing that an effort from a man to get to know a woman as a person, asking her a question once in a while, sending her a smile and giving her the feeling she is liked, maybe even appreciated, would make me feel great and appearing like a hypocrite because I believe that as a "feminist". There are many men out there I know who are unaware that they might have a objectified, if not inappropriate, view of women; at the same time, I know guys who are putting their "fight for feminism" etc on display for the WWW to see while sleeping with women they badmouth or leaving those they say they care about without EVER showing appreciation. Hypocrisy is so easy in this matter. And as long as we assess how much of a hypocrite someone is rather than their actual willingness to be a fair, nice person, this day remains a day, and not a process...