My feminist journey is a quite linear one. I lived through my teenage years quite unconsciously, it’s a time I am still processing today. Things make a lot more sense now, with a certain knowledge about social structures came understanding. I understand why I experienced (or did not experience) certain things as a young, white, able-bodied girl. Compared to today’s teenage girls I definitely feel like a late bloomer. But it was only the beginning of social media then, which now is my biggest information source when it comes to social issues and politics. There was my mother. She influenced me massively through all the years, but the first time I experienced her total independence and strength, was when she set a boundary for herself that should have been set 2 years earlier. It was almost too late and that’s why it was even harder for her to say no to me. But she did and I understood what’s the most important in the life of a woman. It’s saying no when patriarchal society tells you to say yes to everything and everyone all the time. I didn’t know better because I was trapped too. I couldn’t think of myself doing unconventional things, although it was the only thing I wanted to do actually. I was trapped and the only solution was to say no. So, depression was a big teacher. Physical illness too. Not only mine, but also others. My empathy was paralyzing me for many years. This happens when it got paired with the expectation to take responsibility for everyone’s happiness. I was 19 when I learned how to properly and effectively fight for the things I needed and how to not be sorry for the misery of others. I faced my whole potential and used it without any compromises. Then there were new friends. People who weren’t afraid feeling things. Feeling and communicating them. I spent two weeks in Berlin with them and it was the first time in years that I’d felt free. Conversations helped me a lot. I had a friend, super short with long blonde hair, and she holds this special place in my heart. I think of her as a Berghain angel, because she knows how to rave but also how to disappear on a swiss mountain to live with a healer who knows her since birth. Then the books came, the unlearning. Unlearning male names, theories, views. Unpacking untold facts, herstories. I had a professor at university, she included many things in her lectures about women in design, art, architecture and fashion. She was really passionate about telling WHOLE stories, or stories from normally leaved out places. She taught me how to correctly quote women after I’d talked about a 1960’s designer with naming her first name only. It happened in front of the whole class and it was a key moment for me because I felt how ingrained this discriminating thinking was. During the last couple of years, feminism appeared along with a lot of other personal topics of mine, e.g. the migration history of my parents or my best childhood friend’s suffering from white patriarchal oppression that I’ve always been a part of. I feel that the more I read and learn about the unheard and untold stories the more I recognize the fragility of our oppressive and hurting system.