THE SPOT

Author: THESPOTEDITOR

  • 365 Day later: When Birthdays Don’t Feel Magical Anymore

    365 Day later: When Birthdays Don’t Feel Magical Anymore


    I first wrote about this a year ago, in When Birthdays Don’t Feel Magical Anymore. It was about how birthdays lose their spark once adulthood muddies the water: the childhood wonder, the yearning for adventure, all of it replaced by bills, responsibilities, and the feeling of being behind in the race that is life. If you want to read it, here’s the link.

    Well, another 365 days later, we’re back.

    Not much has changed.

    My solar return was filled with uncertainty, laughter, small joys, and a fair share of heartbreak and disappointment. Let me take you through it.

    I’m still fat

    Yes, I say that consciously because that’s what I am.

    I haven’t worked out much, I haven’t eaten healthier, and I haven’t done more for my health. I know I’m creeping closer to insulin resistance, and I carry a high hereditary risk for cardiovascular disease. None of that has kept me away from air-fried fries or a slice of light, creamy cheesecake.

    I didn’t travel much

    For personal reasons, travel wasn’t really an option this year.

    My summer happened mostly at home, occasionally in my jacuzzi. No French Riviera, no Turkish coast, none of it. The one trip I did make was to Cologne for Olivia Dean’s concert. That was a blast.

    I still feel behind

    I haven’t been able to shake the feeling of being behind while former classmates post photos from Bali, Croatia, and the Netherlands.

    I had my eighteenth breakdown in June and sudden crying spells in July. Life in the age of Instagram is one long comparison game and inferiority complex.

    A lot of those feelings are tied to the complicated relationship I have with my body. I wrote more about that experience as a Black woman in this post.

    I spent the summer at home

    Because of my partner’s surgery, I didn’t get to dance on a Cape Verdean beach or hike in the Swiss Alps.

    Instead, most days were spent at home: caring for him, trying to keep the house clean, and working.

    I got the job

    Part of my inferiority complex came from not being a corporate boss-b*tch.

    I watched Joan Clayton on Girlfriends, Miranda on Sex and the City, and random people on LinkedIn living the life I wanted: a good job, decent colleagues, and money.

    My current job pays my bills. It just doesn’t fill my life or my heart.

    In October, I start a new one. It’s a limited contract, but a real upgrade in both work and pay. A reputable company, meaningful benefits, and opportunities I don’t have now. I’d love for it to become permanent.

    Still, this isn’t how I pictured the end of my twenties.

    After three years, I finally got the job I was waiting for… yet I feel extremely nervous.

    I spent so long believing a better position would solve my dissatisfaction that now I’m wondering whether the problem was never the workplace at all.

    Maybe I shouldn’t have changed jobs back in 2024. Maybe I’ve spent years chasing the next opportunity, convinced it would finally make me feel successful.

    At least with the other job, I was living in my dream city. I had familiar bars, dance classes, and, honestly… more money.

    This job was supposed to be an in-between step. But now, with another limited contract, I wonder: should I have just sucked it up? Should I have stayed where I was and been grateful for what I had?

    Well… there is one thing that has changed.

    This year, I wasn’t lying on the bathroom floor while giving myself a wax.

    LOL.

  • I’m Neither German Nor Togolese: Growing Up Black in Germany

    I’m Neither German Nor Togolese: Growing Up Black in Germany

    Can I really ever be German while being Black? German or Togolese? That’s the question that’s haunted me since childhood. Not because anyone explicitly told me the answer was no, but because every sideways glance, every “Where are you REALLY from?”, every assumption made me feel like I was living between two worlds that would never fully claim me as their own. This is my story.

    How I Ended Up in Germany

    I was born in the late nineties. My mom had just joined my father in Germany after he’d settled here with help from a friend. He already spoke German. His father saw ambition in him and made sure to pay for his German school. I was their perfect little present. Lol, perfect I was and am not.

    Originally, I’m from Togo. A West-African country located right next to Ghana, Burkina Faso and Benin. My first trip back as an adult completely shifted how I see myself. You can read about that journey here and here on The Spot.

    Childhood in the Black Forest

    I grew up in a small village in the Black Forest region of Germany. We probably had more cows than we had people. And of course, more white than black. My poor mother had to move there after she gave birth to me, just two weeks before. They went from a city close to the French border surrounded by other Africans, surrounded by friends, to literally the middle of nowhere. We had about two real stores in the entire “town”. On some streets, you could lay down in the middle since there were no cars driving anyway.

    First Experiences of Being Different

    I remember it distinctly. My mother and I were walking to the store, about 1km away. There was another girl with her mother. She smiled at me and asked if I was from America. The US, specifically. Because, well, I was Black and American films were apparently the only medium where she’d ever seen Black people before.

    We became friends. She was only five at that point. But that moment, being assumed to be from somewhere else just because of my skin, that always stayed with me.

    My mornings were filled with my mom telling me that I couldn’t misbehave like the other children did. As young as I was, I didn’t have the mental capacity to understand what she meant. But I never second-guessed her either.

    The second time I felt the difference was in kindergarten. I had cornrows and was messing around with the other kids, all of us wearing caps. My white counterparts would take their caps off and their hair would be a bit disheveled. I joined in, took my cap off, and my friends laughed. Then the kindergarten teacher, very loudly, in front of everyone, said that my hair didn’t even move, so I should stop trying.

    That’s when I first paused and wondered. I’m different?

    Color me shocked. (Yes, the pun was intended.)

    Racism? Not in Germany!

    I have had many encounters with racism. From people immediately speaking to me in English even though their English is obviously more broken than my German could ever be. To a guy, teenage guy at that, who himself had an obvious migration background asking me if someone left me in the oven for too long. People changing sidewalks when I or my siblings walked by. Germany or Europe as a whole has a racism issue. Compare the so-called migration crisis of 2015 to when Ukrainians were leaving due to the Russo-Ukrainian war. The rhetoric was completely different. Night and day, if I might add.

    I remember distinctly how I grew up hating my hair because when I wore braids, guys in school would tell me that my hair looked like Spaghetti. I was wearing Braids. When my sister used to make cornrows, they would call my hair cactus hair. Something my bigger sister still gets a laughter flash about.

    But it hurt, all these instances and more have imprinted in my memory and they linger at the back of my memories.

    Black Woman with braids
    Black woman with Cornrows

    Who Am I Really?

    Especially when my citizenship is questioned, especially when I call my family back home in Togo. Who the hell am I? I’m neither German nor Togolese. I’m not European or African because technically I have never gotten the entire experience on either side. I grew up in Germany, but spoke Ewe first. I went to Kindergarten and we sang German songs, however at home I spoke my mother tongue. Hell, until a couple of years ago I could not even tell you what typical German food was…. Because I knew Fufu, Khom and Ablo. Whilst my fellow classmates ate Knödel, Spätzle and Thüringer Klopse (iykyk). While people here eat with fork, spoon and knives, we would eat with our hands. And honestly, I prefer eating with my hands than with cutlery.

    I realized and come to the conclusion that I’m a little bit of both. I envy the fact that Togolese tend to be more laid-back and relaxed compared to me. But I still despise the Western and also very German high-horse and neo-imperialistic and colonialstic way of thinking (ahem looking at you Emmanuel Macron). Still, when my friend told me just a couple of months ago that I was leaning a little more on the German side I was offended. Not because being German is bad, but because I was never one to deny my heritage. And even if I didn’t understand the magnitude of where I came from when I was young, I want to celebrate it more now that I’m or trying to be an adult.

    Until next time,

    xoxo

  • Skincare Essentials for Black Women (sold in Germany)

    Finding the right skincare essentials for Black women in Germany is not always easy. Products formulated for deeper skin tones are harder to find and the ones that do work are not always affordable. Since we are big on self care here at The Spot, I am sharing the exact products that have transformed my skin and where to get them in Germany, many at a discount at Shop Apotheke.1

    Double-Cleansing is a Must

    If you wear sunscreen in Germany, which you absolutely should, please double cleanse at the end of the day. It will remove the dirt of the day and break down the chemicals of your sunscreen more effectively.

    How to double cleanse? Double cleansing simply means cleansing your skin before going in with a foaming cleanser. You can either use Dermalogica’s PreCleanse or, if you have combination skin like me, Micellar water. This is where I introduce you to Isana’s Micellar Water. Isana is the beauty brand of German drugstore Rossmann and while I usually go to DM for my skincare, Isana has really changed the game with this 2 euro find. Affordable skincare in Germany does not get better than this.

    Cleansers

    Skincare for oily to combination skin tends to be drying and unfortunately this is the case for the cleanser I want to highlight. La Roche Posay’s Purifying Foaming Cleanser is widely available in German pharmacies and drugstores. And purify it will. I have been using this for 2 years and while it is indeed drying, it will help with your acne. Be careful though, the longer you leave the foam on your face, the more your skin will itch

    Moisturizers with Sunscreen

    Let me clear up some misinformation. Yes, Black people need sunscreen too. No, we may not need SPF 50, but we should and do need to protect our skin. Why? Because Black people are more likely to die from skin cancer than their white counterparts, as they are often diagnosed later and Western medicine does not put enough focus on Black and Brown skin concerns. This is especially important in Germany where dermatologists are not always familiar with Black skin.

    I am a sucker for combinations in skincare. I do not want 80 products when some of them could easily have been combined into one tiny serum bottle. This is why I love CeraVe’s Moisturising Facial Lotion with SPF 50, available at most German drugstores and pharmacies. Not only is it non-comedogenic, it also gives your skin a healthy glow making you look refreshed and ready for the day. It is additionally formulated with Niacinamide and Hyaluronic Acid, which will keep your skin moisturized during both the harsh German winter and summer.

    Honorable Mentions for Your Skincare Routine in Germany

    Skincare does not have to be a long list of a million different products, if you do want to counteract the dry results from the products above or if you want to get rid off some pimples, here are some honorable mentions.

    The Ordinary AHA & BHA Peeling Solution

    This peeling solution is the bomb. You should not use it if you have overly sensitive skin, but if you want to clear your pores and get rid of pimples without paying steep prices at the aesthetician, this product will give you exactly what you need for less than 10 euros. Available online at Shop Apotheke and iHerb Germany.

    BHA, also known as Salicylic Acid, goes deep into the pore to get all the gunk out. Consider it a facial at home.

    Cosrx’ Advanced Snail 96 Mucin Power Essence

    This one will save your skin after long German winter days when your skin is cracking and screaming for moisture. I love this especially during the colder months and whenever my hormones decide to switch things up and leave me with dry skin. Available at Shop Apotheke and iHerb Germany.

    Adapalene Gel

    Last but definitely the best will be Adapalene Gel in any variety. Last but definitely the best. Adapalene Gel in any variety. In Germany this cannot be bought over the counter and will need to be prescribed by your dermatologist. Adapalene is a retinoic acid, which is a more potent form of retinol. What can it do? Better question is what can it not do. Fine lines, wrinkles, acne, hyperpigmentation, all of it.

    A few things to keep in mind. Never use Adapalene in the morning. Always wear sunscreen while using it. Try the sandwich method to prevent your skin from drying out too quickly. And do not, I repeat do not, use Vitamin C and any retinol containing product at the same time.

    1. This post is not sponsored and I have no business agreement with any of the brands or companies mentioned. All products listed are ones I personally use and genuinely love. This post is purely informative and reflects my own experience.
      I am not a dermatologist or medical aesthetician.
      Skincare is very individual and what works for my skin may not work for yours. Please always consult a medical professional or dermatologist for your personal skincare needs. ↩︎
  • 5 Budget Travel Tips that won’t Break Your Bank (From a Fellow Brokie)

    5 Budget Travel Tips that won’t Break Your Bank (From a Fellow Brokie)

    The featured image was created by AI.

    As a fellow brokie, one who unfortunately does not have wealthy family members or a job that pays above the average, I have real experience stretching a dime into a dollar. Here are five budget travel tips for travelers in Europe and beyond that actually work. 

    1. Flying Is Overrated. Take the Bus or Train 

    I know. Flying saves time and depending on where you are going, it might actually be less expensive than the train or bus. However, when I found myself yearning for somewhere far away in 2019, I downloaded the Flixbus App and started searching. I found a good deal from where I was living to Barcelona. It would take me a full day to get there and back, and my flight anxiety was another big reason to avoid flying altogether. I compared the Flixbus ticket at €80 round-trip to a flight for the same dates and, with carry-on, the flight would have cost me €120 more. 

    Back then as a student, €120 was nearly half my rent. Flixbus it was. If you do not have Flixbus in your country, long-distance buses are still a great option. If you are based in Germany, here is a little hack: do not search for Deutsche Bahn tickets on the German DB website. Check the Austrian ÖBB website instead, because some long-distance tickets are significantly cheaper there. The DB also launched a Last-Minute ticket program with discounted fares. Only took them two decades, but I digress. 

    2. Book a Room, Not an Entire Accommodation 

    Back when I was pinching pennies (still do), the only reasonably priced option was a shared room or an Airbnb where I stayed with others. While I tend to be a very anxious person, I still booked a room for just over €100 for a full week in Barcelona. I was not located directly in the city and shared the apartment with the host, but it saved me a lot of money. I can only recommend it. 

    The key is to look carefully at your potential host’s profile. Do they have reviews? If yes, what are the negatives and what are the positives? Focus on the negatives especially: is it something you can compromise on? If yes, go ahead and book. If not, move on. Budget tight, standards reasonable. 

    3. Bring Your Own Food 

    When I went to Zurich (check out the series, part 1, part 2 and part 3) I knew Switzerland would be unreasonably expensive. Check out the full story here. The second time around I was not going to be fooled. My budget was not going to break over a tiny wrap. I packed pasta, soy cream, and a bottle of wine and enjoyed a glass from the luxury of my hotel bed. Zero regrets. 

    Packing even a few meals, especially for arrivals and first nights, can save you €30 to €50 easily. That is a bus ticket somewhere else. 

    4. Look for Discounts or Book Through a Platform That Offers Them 

    This is one of the more obvious tips but look for discount codes online before booking anything. Some German employers participate in Corporate Benefits, where you can find discounted hotel and accommodation rates. I personally book through Booking.com as a registered Genius member and the discounts add up more than you would expect. I still think fondly about my trip to the Walchensee in Bavaria and happily applying for the €20 cashback through the Genius program. Small habits, real savings. 

    5. Visit Friends and Acquaintances 

    This might sound opportunistic but hear me out. Accommodation is almost always the biggest expense on any trip. If you can get around that by visiting a friend, you will not only have a personal tour guide but also someone to split food costs with and hopefully a place to stay at a lesser rate or completely for free. Visiting my sisters in high-priced cities like Munich and Basel has genuinely kept my travel budget intact more times than I can count. 

    Budget travel in Europe is absolutely possible. It just requires a little creativity and zero shame about being smart with money. From Flixbus rides to friends’ couches, every euro saved is another euro toward the next adventure. 

    Have a budget travel tip that saved you? Drop it in the comments. 

    For more Travel, Lifestyle and Thoughtful Essays, check out other posts at The Spot.

  • The Art of Becoming – Feeling Behind in Your 20s

    The Art of Becoming – Feeling Behind in Your 20s

    If you are in your 20s and feel like everyone else got a manual you never received, this post is for you. The art of becoming is messy, slow, and absolutely nobody’s idea of fun. And yet here we are.

    You are not the only one feeling behind. Someone should create a university degree for becoming, because this shit is nasty (pardon my French).

    25, So All Grown Up?

    As most of you know, the prefrontal cortex is not fully developed until you hit the age of 25. So all decision-making and long-term planning, all of the quintessential aspects that make adulting sooo difficult, are not fully there yet. In summary, you are literally not fully there.

    The issue that arises with me is that I assumed and hoped that once I hit 25, it would all be over. Well, lucky me, it wasn’t. Psychologist Meg Jay writes in her book The Defining Decade that your 20s are the most important decade of your life, however many do not take it seriously. Including all the grown ups around you. NIH researcher Jay Giedd argues that during your 20s you are more inclined to chase and compare.

    Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, Why Am I Not The Fairest of Them All?

    There it is. Comparison. A thought process that has me in a chokehold, because why be happy and content if I could just have a mental spiral and lose my shit at 3am about something that I may or may not have done 7 years ago.

    Seriously, I lay awake thinking about the time I wished my server good appetite. I am, like many 20-somethings, my own worst critic. Even though research shows that feeling lost is technically and developmentally very much normal.

    But why oh why, do I open Instagram and think… huh? I wish I could be in Tanzania like that one friend from 10 years ago. I know that she has worked hard for her degree and deserves to treat herself. And yet I feel completely lonely. In a room full of people, whether family, friends or strangers, I feel lonely. Disconnected.

    A 2023 loneliness study found that people between the ages of 18 and 34 are the loneliest generation globally. More lonely than even the elderly.

    If only I could?

    Whenever I feel this jealousy, this pressure, the green monster emerging from the shadows, I also pity my inner child. Because it is also her that is hurting. Every penny, every time she had to hold herself back and be reasonable, be consistent, so her family had food on their table, electricity or clothing. She chipped away something off of her personality, off of her life, to make a sacrifice. Research suggests that children of immigrants inherit survival patterns including over-achieving, people-pleasing and hypervigilance. Concepts that should be unlearned during adulthood.

    As a first-generation individual, I have talked about the Black Tax in the linked essay. What I did not quite name was the identity tax that accompanies it. It takes a toll navigating two different cultures. What Germans would deem normal children’s behaviour, my African family clutched their pearls about. Where I had to take responsibility, my German counterparts were allowed to live and feel. When my German friends thought about what club to go to, I was worrying about how we were going to make rent. Don’t get me wrong, I also value the African and Togolese culture. Check out the blog post here to hear what I had to say.

    The Journey to Joy

    In the end, I don’t have it figured out. Nobody does at 25, at 28, or honestly at any age. But I am learning that becoming is not a destination you arrive at. It is the journey itself. And if you are somewhere in the middle of your own becoming, adjusting your crown in the dark, I see you. Keep going.

    If this resonated, you might also enjoy 3 Epiphany Moments I Wish Someone Had Told Me Sooner.

  • Nierstein: Discover the Beauty of the Rhine River

    Nierstein: Discover the Beauty of the Rhine River

    Why Visit Nierstein?

    Nestled between Worms and Frankfurt, Nierstein is one of the most peaceful towns along the Rhine River in Rhineland-Palatinate. Known for its scenic river views, relaxed atmosphere, and nearby vineyards, Nierstein is the perfect destination for a slow Sunday getaway in Germany.

    For German speakers, do not confuse Nierstein with “Nierenstein,” which means kidney stones.

    I first discovered Nierstein while trapped on a train ride to another work event. As the train passed the Rhine, the sunlight reflected across the water and completely caught my attention. The calm river, the boats drifting by, and the quiet atmosphere made me want to come back immediately.

    A few weeks later, I finally made the 30-minute drive to Nierstein on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

    One of the best things about visiting Nierstein is how easy and relaxed everything feels. During the weekend, you can usually find free parking spots directly beside the Rhine promenade, making it ideal for a spontaneous day trip from Worms, Mainz, or Frankfurt.

    The riverside promenade is simple but beautifully designed. Along the riverbank, you will find several seating areas where you can sit in the sun and watch the boats move slowly across the water. The peaceful rhythm of the Rhine, combined with the warm sunlight and open views, makes Nierstein feel like a hidden gem in Germany.

    Whether you are looking for a quiet walk, a relaxing afternoon by the water, or a scenic stop along the Rhine Valley, Nierstein is one of the best places to spend a Sunday in Rhineland-Palatinate.

    Riverbank Nierstein
    Rhine
  • Epiphany Moments: 3 Life Lessons I Wish Someone Had Told Me Sooner

    Epiphany Moments: 3 Life Lessons I Wish Someone Had Told Me Sooner

    If you’re in your 20s trying to figure life out, you’re not alone. These are the life lessons for your 20s that nobody warns you about — the ones that only hit you on a cellular level after you’ve already learned them the hard way. Here are three epiphany moments that genuinely changed how I move through life.

    1. Stop Waiting for Others — Start Living for Yourself


    When I moved out of my parents’ house I was so excited. Out on my own. Out in the streets. I wanted to finally experience life without parental supervision. But I held myself back. I waited for someone to join me. So many nights I spent looking for an acquaintance or a friend to tell me whether they’d be able to come to that bar, the art gallery, the dance class, the swimming pool.
    People naturally don’t owe you their time. Never. But you should never hold yourself back because someone said no. Go to that concert. Go clubbing. Go on that trip. Carpe Diem.
    I started college in 2018. 2019 was the only year I really got — and only toward the end of it did I stop waiting and start living. And you bet your nice little behind, it was all disrupted by the Covid-19 pandemic. So don’t be a fool. Go do it.


    2. Keep Your Plans to Yourself (The Evil Eye Is Real)


    I used to share a lot about my life. The older I get, the more I believe in the evil eye. Now I only share when plans are definitive and the goal has been secured. If I cross the finish line — great. If I don’t, at least nobody will ask about it.
    I stopped oversharing specifically after my job search, which all but destroyed what little confidence I had to begin with. If you didn’t get the job, didn’t finish the project, just couldn’t get there for whatever reason — cry about it, cry some more, and then move on. Though I’ll admit, I haven’t fully moved on from a job I applied to back in December.


    3. Loneliness Is a Life Lesson Too — Learn to Sit With Yourself


    “You need to know how to be alone and not be defined by another person” — Oscar Wilde.

    And I think it’s true.
    I feel lonely. I felt lonely when I was single and I feel lonely right now, even though I have a partner. I believe it’s integral to who we are at our core to get to know ourselves. Because if you don’t know you, how will you ever know what you want — or don’t want?
    Solitude and loneliness — there’s a fine line between them. But I think at some point in your life you’ll have to experience both to grow.

  • Heidelberg Solo Date Guide: Goods Heidelberg & the Art of Taking Yourself Out

    Heidelberg Solo Date Guide: Goods Heidelberg & the Art of Taking Yourself Out

    A Little Background on Solo Dating

    As you already know, I’m an indulger. Someone who enjoys going on adventures by myself. I’ve been trying to recreate that wholesome feeling I used to have. I tried face masks, cocktails at home, chilling on the sofa — nothing. I felt heavy, broody, depressed. I tried several times to write about each attempt, but it never felt right. Never felt fulfilling.

    This past Thursday, though, I got my spark back.

    Solo Date at Heidelberg’s Goods

    Located right behind Heidelberg’s main station — and in my former neighborhood, the Bahnstadt — you can find Goods Heidelberg directly on the western side of Heidelberg’s Congress Center. It has a charming outdoor area and an even more modern, stylishly furnished interior.

    I sat down and was immediately greeted by one of the eager and very friendly waiters. He handed me a menu and told me he’d be back in a second. I took my time, took some pictures — because it never really happened if you didn’t post it — and ordered a lemonade and a Tartufo pizza.

    The pizza was heaven. The lemonade was lovely — homemade. I sat there enjoying the varying beats drumming out of their boombox and just took it all in. The weather, the people, the feeling. Heidelberg, I’ve missed you.

    Afterwards I splurged, moved inside to charge my phone, and ordered a Raspberry Spritz. As yummy as yummy can be. The Tartufo pizza technically didn’t come with mushrooms, but I was given the option and chose tomatoes instead. Delicious, regardless.

    It was a magical day. Shoutout to the very lovely staff.

    Lemonade at Goods (Yuzu and Lime)
    Tartufo Pizza
    Raspberry Spritz

    Check them out: https://www.instagram.com/goodsheidelberg/

  • Eibsee Part II: My First Solo Trip to the German Caribbean — Lakes, Lasagna & a Creepy Waiter

    Eibsee Part II: My First Solo Trip to the German Caribbean — Lakes, Lasagna & a Creepy Waiter

    A Quick Recap

    I kind of left you all hanging. Instead of heavenly posts about Lake Eibsee, you were bombarded with posts about financial insecurity and depression. I promise — none of those have vanished. Would be too easy, right? But let’s move on and actually look at a Journey of Joy moment.

    In Part I we covered how I got there. In Part II we’re doing a quick and dirty rundown of how things went on my way from Heidelberg to Grainau.

    Day Two

    I woke up in the early morning on Saturday. I slept okay — unfortunately, since the B&B was quite old (though charming), I heard every minor step my fellow tourists made in the middle of the night or early morning. Still, I had a smile on my lips. I had waited so long for friends to join me on trips, and this was one I finally just went on by myself.

    I went into the bathroom and took a long hot shower with the door open. Paranoid, yes — I wanted to make sure that if someone happened to open my hotel room door, I’d be ready.

    After the shower I put on my comfiest clothes and went downstairs for breakfast. I had something — honestly don’t remember what. I noticed that beside me there was just a small group of adventure tourists who looked very sporty, probably heading up into the mountains. Since it was April, it was way too cold for them to be cyclists.

    I went back upstairs and, honestly, laid back down. Since I didn’t have a TV at home at the time, I took full advantage of finally being able to curl up in bed and just enjoy. I came across Shopping Queen — a show I hadn’t seen in ages — and dove in a little too well. For those of you living in Germany, you already know that on Saturdays you get the entire week’s episodes together in one neat package. So I indulged, enjoyed, and almost didn’t visit the lake at all

    The Lake

    I mentally gave myself a kick in the butt and put my clothes on. When I checked in, I had generously been given a bus ticket for the area, so I took the next bus to the lake. It almost seemed like every handful of tourists in Grainau had gotten on the same bus. Seats weren’t filled. The weather was unforgivingly dreadful — dark, gray, moody. I thought about my pictures and how they wouldn’t look as great without any sunshine. We made our way through empty streets straight to the lake, dark thick woods surrounding us on all sides.

    We arrived after a twenty-minute ride. I got off the bus and started walking. Straight ahead.

    There it was — the beautiful Lake Eibsee. I walked around and captured these gems.

    Eibsee I
    Eibsee II

    Almost Starved to Death

    After about an hour I took the bus back to Grainau, happy with my trip and — most importantly — my pictures. It never really happened if you didn’t post it, right?

    Another twenty minutes later I was back at the hotel and getting hungry. Since I hadn’t booked any lunch or dinner options at the B&B, I looked online and found a small store nearby. I figured I’d grab some apples or bread to tide me over. I was too late. It was already closed — and mind you, it was about 3 PM in the middle of the day. I cursed myself for getting my hopes up. Growing up in a village in the Black Forest, I should have known there was no way that store would be open that “late.”

    I turned around and spotted a restaurant on my way back, making a mental note to go at 5 PM. I went back to the B&B, watched more TV, and at 5 PM sharp — stomach growling — I headed out. I thought I might try the restaurant right across from the B&B, but of course they didn’t open for another thirty minutes. So back to the first restaurant I went.

    I was welcomed by an older man — maybe forty — who was the only waiter and host. It was a typical old restaurant with Italian cuisine. He was nice. Too nice. He asked what I was doing in Grainau and I, foolishly, told him I was a tourist traveling alone. Then the compliments started. With a lit candle on the table, a beautiful girl like me shouldn’t be sitting alone. He should be joining me.

    I smiled awkwardly and cringed. Ordered my Radler and a very tasty lasagna, which I inhaled in twenty minutes because this guy was giving me the heebie-jeebies. I left as fast as I could.

    At least the lasagna was good.

    After that brief adventure I spent the rest of the evening in my room. I called the taxi company to arrange my pickup for the next day and just reminisced.

    It was a fun trip. My first solo one during the pandemic.

  • The Black Tax in Europe: One Black Woman’s Story of Family, Money & Boundaries

    The Black Tax in Europe: One Black Woman’s Story of Family, Money & Boundaries

    The featured image was created by AI.

    Explaining the Patterns

    In African cultures there is a clear and structured hierarchy. You have elders and you have the youngins — people like me. You have women and you have men, and if you think Germany can be misogynistic, try some African countries. This is a fact, not an insult.

    Men are the head of the household, and women’s will or ideas have to adjust to whatever the men in their lives plan — or plan not to do.

    This rule can only be overwritten by being an elder. Elders, male or female, are always right. No matter the topic, no matter the day, no matter the year. You respect your elders because they carry wisdom, because they have more experience with this thing called life.

    However, when it comes to boundaries, their infinite well of wisdom dries out quicker than the Sahara.

    My Story

    Ever since my siblings and I were young, we had to step up. As I’ve mentioned before, my father got sick early in our lives, so my sister and I — both barely teenagers — had to learn how to transfer money and pay the electricity, rent, and telephone bills on time. We marched through the coldest winters the Swabian Black Forest had to offer to get groceries. We snuggled together under thick covers when the saved money ran out, and spread a can of tuna among all five of us. Those situations — and others far more traumatic — were familiar.

    So when I finally moved out at 19 or 20, I tried to enjoy the limitless freedom. That meant monetary freedom too — no more working weekends and paying for groceries. Or so I thought.

    During my university years I was still paying bills. My siblings helped too, don’t get me wrong, but it felt deeply strange. Having so much responsibility while envying friends who had never once picked up the phone to hear that another bill had arrived in the mailbox. On one hand, it made me grow up faster — I knew how to navigate certain things far quicker than my fellow Gen Z peers. But the older I get, the more I acknowledge the pitfalls. A Nigerian friend of mine told me she simply doesn’t bother anymore. Sidenote: she is a queen for having boundaries and sticking to them. I genuinely admire her.

    Back to the story.

    When I wanted to go on a semester abroad — or start college at all — I had to rely on government subsidizing. In the end I never went, thanks to Covid, but I still had to think about every penny. Everything had to be calculated: whether I could keep working until I embarked on the journey. Worries that later turned out to be misplaced.

    The Job Market and I — Eternal Foes?

    After leaving school, I thought things would be different. I was earning more, right? But I had the luck of graduating into one of the worst job markets since the financial crisis of 2008. Hundreds of applications, dozens of ghost postings, and several moments of desperation, preparation, and rejection emails later — I had a job. My previous employer offered me another position, working in a team I had shadowed just a year earlier. With my luck, it was the worst shadowing I had ever done. The person on the other side was what you would nowadays call a classic Karen — domineering, short-fused — and the cherry on top was the jump from Marketing to Software and Scrum work. I hated every second of it.

    But here’s the thing. I hadn’t had a free moment since 2019. I was either studying, working, or both. I would have loved a gap year — to travel to New Zealand like so many of my fellow students and friends were doing. But no. Mom’s rent. The phone bill. Last year it was the deposit for the new apartment, the furniture, the lamps. Everything. And no matter how much I saved, there was always something else. No matter how careful I was with money. The worst part is that in African households, which tend to be collectivist, there is a certain sense of entitlement. During my studies I shielded myself from certain requests by saying I was still a student — very much the truth. But now that I’m a full-time employee, there is this belief that I can miraculously afford anyone and everyone.

    Mind you, I pay €300 alone just for my parents’ bills — sometimes more. Where exactly is that supposed to come from, between my rent, food, and gas at over €2 per liter1 (thank you, 47th President of the United States)? And on top of all that, I also want to live. I want to have dinner with friends, go on trips, go to concerts, restart Pole Dance, go to Hip-Hop classes, try Pilates. Do so much more. But when I do — or even when I try — I hear that I should be saving more. From the very people who rely on me to help them.

    I don’t want to resent my parents. Some of what happened was out of their control just as much as it was out of mine. But I also don’t want to be 50, 60, or 70 and look back and think — well, what the hell did I do with my life?

    Why the resentment lately? There are so many fights and disagreements, so I’m not only being put through the wringer financially, but also emotionally drained. As someone who wants to be in control of her own life, I often feel like I’m being kept in a golden cage. On one side, the love and compassion I have for my family. On the other, the yearning to be stricter with boundaries and finally say — I’m done.

    1. Conversion: 9$ per Gallon ↩︎