love

I’m a voice and a mind and a body

Posted on by karenkleinwort

I have had my blog for close to 13 years. I passed in this time from my 40s to my 50s. The circumstances changed in this time: I moved from Mexico City to Berlin; I had to make new friends, look for a new job. So, the comparison between how life was in 2013 and how it is now, in 2026, is flawed.

But what might have been an even stronger change than place or job was time, and what it did to me. People tell me I look “exactly the same” as I did 15, 20 years ago, which obviously is not true. Honestly, no one does. Some age better than others, and I might age in a pretty decent way, but still, what definitely changed is how your environment sees you. And here comes in a fact that Gillian Anderson, actress and activist, presented really well in The Invisibility Plot Twist:

Apparently, women over 50 are disappearing, becoming invisible

…

You’re noticed, you’re needed, 

You’re whistled at

You’re even hit on

And then poof

A few years later

You don’t exist

You’re in the way

They wonder what the hell you are still doing here

…

It’s everywhere in our society

Some people, gentlemen

The youth of today

Sometimes forget that

We’re their mothers

Their sisters, friends, spouses

It doesn’t seem to shock anyone

Or for that matter concern anyone

That we have become invisible

I have noticed this “invisibility plot” myself. I do notice it all the time. Younger people just do not look at me; sometimes they look right through me. Even men my age might do that. Some women my age sometimes exchange glances in a solidary way, as if they want to express: you and me, we belong to the same sisterhood, the one of women over 50.

Obviously, I did not only change continents and my work place during the last 13 years. My children grew up from primary school students to adults. And my husband decided to end our marriage. So, two roles that were quite dominant over the last two decades – the one of mother, the one of wife – have experienced serious readjustments. I will always be a mother, but fortunately my sons navigate their lives quite well. The wife chapter is closed.

So, for a while, I have had more time to take on new roles: be a more active friend than I was maybe in the busy family years before, spend more time with my ageing parents, discover Berlin, learn and enjoy how to be a follower in dancing, work on my writing, etc. In these years, I have definitely gained perspective, wisdom and the desire to say “f*uck off” in several occasions and to several people. Like Anderson concludes in The Invisibility Plot Twist:

So why not be curious

Embrace it, admire it

Celebrate it, respect it

…

Even if you think I´m easy to

Dismiss as an angry

Menopausal feminist

The fact is I have never felt better

…

I feel like I have gained 

Not lost, gained

Gained perspective, confidence

Wisdom and definitely

If not more than ever

The desire to say f*ck off

…

I am not going to disappear

I’m a voice and a mind and a body

Stronger and more present

And more unfiltered than ever

Link to the video (photo is also from YouTube):

Kissing frogs

Posted on by karenkleinwort

We wanted to meet on a Saturday. I had chatted with this guy for two weeks. I told my friend about it when we met for an afterwork drink on Thursday. He said:

“Jonathan? I think Stefanie is dating a Jonathan as well?”

I was thinking. It is not the most common name among men in Germany in their 50s, but also not totally unusual. But I was curious. I asked him to check with Stefanie if “my” Jonathan was actually also “her” Jonathan. And boom – we were a match, but not the one we wanted.

What are the odds? Nearly 4 million people live in Berlin, 1.25 million of them in single households. That does not necessarily mean that they are single. But according to media reporting, Berlin is the capital of singles in Germany. Dating app usage ranges at a little bit more than 50 percent. So, we are talking about more than half a million people looking for love online.

Evidently, my date with Jonathan did not happen. I had signed up on a dating app only three weeks before that incident. First time in my life. I have been reluctant for quite some months. But I realized that the people I am getting to know through my daily activities are mainly not potential partner material. I work in a company where most of the employees are maximum 40 years old, I dance bachata where most of the crowd is even younger. Adventures might be fun, but as I am – in the end – looking for a long-term relationship, that does not square, particularly as I am the woman. Older guys date younger women all the time; but if an older woman dates a younger guy, and he might decide after a few years to want to have kids, biology defines the options. Among my friends, most of the men are still married, which would be a deal-breaker for me.

So, despite the fact that I have 700 contacts on my phone (I know, I should delete some), I am now checking profiles, getting likes and swiping left or right. I have been seeing a lot of men in tights in front of sophisticated looking bicycles and a surprising number that rides motorbikes, although not a single friend of mine does. I have seen a lot of badly taken selfies. Read about half a dozen times the sweet but uninspiring answer of “You sitting next to me” to the question of “What would make you happy?”. I had to google what exactly is meant by “ethical non-monogamy”. 

doubt about understanding and communication between the sexes

In just three weeks, I made experiences that made me doubt about understanding and communication between the sexes. 

One guy asked me in which neighborhood I lived and said that he could pass by on his way to work, gifting me with a kiss. I replied “interesting”, but nothing more. A day later, he unmatched me. I could not write him, could not see his profile any longer.

Another one offered to come by with a bottle of wine. I proposed to meet in a café or bar instead. He replied “hmh”. I thought I do not have to jump this hoop and waited. Again, two days later, he unmatched me.

After I went on my first date, the guy asked me how I felt, if I wanted to see him again. He knew that I was brand new to dating apps, he had been on it for more than a year. I said that I would like to sleep over it a night, if that was okay with him. He said yes. The next morning, again, he had unmatched me. I was really surprised, as we had talked for nearly two hours and had a lot of things in common. I had not been sure the night before if I wanted to have second date, but seeing me being unmatched I knew what my answer was.

Friends had warned me. Of lying, cheating, ghosting. That guys date down their age, meaning they prefer to date women ten to twenty years younger than they are. Which would mean that senior citizens might give me likes right now. They said that I might have to pass through some bullshit, have patience and endurance, before I might meet someone serious. Like in the fairy tale: You gotta kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince.

One friend gave me a really useful advice. She recommended a Rolling Stone article by a rhetoric professor from the University of Wisconsin, USA. Jennie Young has developed the “Burned Haystack Dating Method”™: You are looking for the needle in the haystack, then burn the damn haystack to find that needle faster and more effectively. Meaning: Know what you want, have rigorous filters, and only like the persons that really seem promising; all others, swipe left. Block inappropriate or undesired profiles (e.g. guys in travelling mode). Teach the algorithm what you want. Use the app like a means to an end; check-in maybe twice a day, like using a tooth brush. Turn off notifications. Do not spend any more time than necessary on the app.

With these pieces of advice, I will carry on after my first weeks, wondering what my tolerance for kissing frogs is. I think I learned during the past two years or so that I could also be happy without a prince on my side. I make an excellent princess. For the moment, I am continuing the quest.

For more on the burned haystack dating method™, check here: https://jennieyoung.com/my-channels/burned-haystack/

December and memories

Posted on by karenkleinwort

December has always had a special meaning for us.

For me, as a child, like so many others, because of Christmas. And because of my mum’s birthday right after the holidays. Later, I got together with my husband in that month – after a pub crawl with friends in our college in England. That was exactly 30 years ago. Five years later, we got married, also in the last month of the year. His mom’s birthday is in December. As a Mexican, that month is special anyhow, with the Dia de Guadalupe, the deeply worshiped virgin, and lots of “posada” celebrations in the weeks up to xmas eve.

That not being enough, our two sons were born in December and at the beginning of January. So, when the two of them grew up, the end of the year was also a stressful time, thinking about presents for two occasions, xmas dinner, and on which side of the Atlantic to celebrate the holidays. It was also a joyful time, with kids unwrapping the latest Lego Star Wars spacecraft and forgetting the world around them assembling it, enjoying a good meal, catching up with family and friends. As with every family, things are not always like they seem in glossy magazines or instagram posts, but there might be some tensions, misunderstandings, old wounds that have not healed.

December is definitely a busy time, and lots of people reminisce about the months that lie behind them. Some people send out letters, summarizing what they or their family did during the year; less and less, though. In modern times, Spotify sends you your “wrapped” telling you your most streamed artists, genres and “musical age”, and social media presents you your supposed “highlights”. All that is very self-centered, typical for the times we live in. But sometimes one can laugh about it with others and create moments of connection – my “musical age” is 21, my oldest son’s supposedly 60.

Memories and truth are two different things

Memories and truth are two different things. But for oneself, a memory of a moment is the truth. That memory might change over time. Three years ago, we celebrated the last Christmas as a family of four together. The year that followed will stay in all our memories as something disruptive, a huge change; hurtful, sad, to others maybe also liberating. My husband decided to separate, after more than 22 years of marriage. Since then, he and I go through both our lives on separate ways. We will always be bound through the years we spent together, with different memories, him and me, about those times, as we looked at events from our personal perspective. We are connected through the children we brought up, we are their parents, that will never change.

2023 was, without a doubt, the toughest year of my life. I am very grateful that 2024 looked more positive, and 2025 brighter, as I have been dealing with the consequences of that decision and action. That was hard work, and it will continue. Once one accepts such a break-up and has digested the most immediate blows, one can start, little by little, building something new for oneself, however that looks like.

2023 was also the year my mother-in-law died – suddenly, unexpected, gone. She passed away in December, a week before her birthday. She was a very important person to our family, logically for my husband, but also for me, and she was a beloved grandmother for my two sons. Her death was a great loss to all of us.

There is this saying: “We die twice: First, when we cease to be; second, when we are forgotten.” My mom-in-law had a lot of family and friends, and she will be remembered a long time, I am sure. The Mexican tradition of Dia de Muertos will help as well; putting up an altar at your house, with a photo of your loved ones that parted and their favorite food or drink or something they liked. There would be a tequila for her, maybe some liquorice (she liked the German sweet Lakritz, very unusual for a Mexican), a book of poetry. I have a lot of memories of her. She will live on, in my heart, for many, many years.

So, with these experiences, December and xmas have gotten even more meaningful to me than they already were. They also taught me to appreciate life, every single day, and be grateful for all the good things I have. There are a lot, and my memories are part of them. So are my plans for the future, and my deeds in the present.