Returning early and with honour!

Nobody wants LDS missionaries to return early, and nobody expects them to. But you know what? Missionaries don't expect to go home early, either. But sometimes they do - sometimes they have to and they don't have any other choice. 

And I've heard it a lot of times. "Yes, he served in Mexico, but he came home early" as if it wasn't as honourable as serving a full-term mission. 
I also see it on Facebook a lot of times, people opening up on social media because they don't know how to deal with it and what to say. 
And I know personally,                                because I'm an early returned sister missionary.


But in reality, there is no such thing as an "early returned" - missionary. Because every missionary I know, including myself, has served his or her full term as a missionary. And it's not always 2 years or 18 months. 

Just like it's not always a 9-hour-shift at the vineyard. Christ taught: 

 For the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which went out early in the morning to hirelabourers into his vineyard. And when he had agreed with the labourers for a penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And he went out about the third hour, and saw others standing idle in the marketplace, And said unto them; Go ye also into the vineyard, and whatsoever is right I will give you. And they went their way.Again he went out about the sixth and ninth hour, and did likewise.And about the eleventh hour he went out, and found others standing idle, and saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle?They say unto him, Because no man hath hired us. He saith unto them, Go ye also into the vineyard; and whatsoever is right, that shall ye receive.So when even was come, the lord of the vineyard saith unto his steward, Call the labourers, and give them their hire, beginning from the last unto the first. And when they came that were hired about the eleventh hour, they received every man a penny. But when the first came, they supposed that they should have received more; and they likewise received every man a penny. And when they had received it, they murmured against the goodman of the house, Saying, These last have wrought but one hour, and thou hast made them equal unto us, which have borne the burden and heat of the day. But he answered one of them, and said, Friend, I do thee no wrong: didst not thou agree with me for a penny?Take that thine is, and go thy way: I will give unto this last, even as unto thee.

All missionaries serve in Christs' vineyard. They make a difference and God and the people they influence for good are grateful for their service. Regardless of the time I served and will serve, my mission will never be over.

I realize, that all people see is that I was set apart on June 19th 2015 and came back on October 6th 2015, but there's so much more:

People don't see that I took a train to Munich straight to the mission field with no MTC experience or any time to transition to missionary life mode. I was scared but I was up for it! I wanted to get to work and serve for 18 months, in Salt Lake City as soon as possible, but for now I was going to give my best in Germany. I was surprised to find out that I was going to take a train to Italy the next day to serve my mission in South Tyrol, but now I was even more excited and I started picking up the new language - Italian! I had the best trainer and we worked very hard and I was incredibly tired and some days I couldn't walk without pain because of all the blisters I had and I started getting migraines... But I started to notice something new: That I could love people so much more than I knew, that they meant so much to me that it made me sad when they didn't want to commit and I would do anything to help them in any way! I met Miriam and I saw how the Gospel changed her so much! It amazed me that the Gospital really is the best Hospital! Witnessing and translating her baptism was one of the best days of my mission! I cried when I took her in my arms and she hugged me -all wet- and told me she felt free and peaceful. 

Then my VISA came and I was told that I was going to fly to America come August. I was very scared of going to the MTC. I feared that I was going to have to start all over again. After everything I had done to step up to the plate as a missionary and learning a new language I was going to have to give it all up and go to the MTC where everyone would treat me like it was my first day as a missionary. All the "Welcome to the MTC" shouts. And at first, the MTC was horrible for me. 

Firstly, because it took me 3 days to get there in the first place. It cost me one night at a hotel in London Heathrow, one night at the Houston / Texas Airport, 2 lost suitcases and one broken suitcase. Yes, I made it to the MTC, but I still didn't have my luggage, I hadn't changed in 3 days, hadn't eaten a decent meal in 3 days, I was tired and I was going to give up. I told myself at that airport in London, that maybe-
it wasn't meant to be.

Secondly, because everyone was constantly telling me that "now I was going to learn how to prepare to teach my very first investigator". After listening to that kind of stuff 24/7 I started to believe that maybe, I really wasn't a real missionary yet. Maybe all that time in Italy had just been a failure? 

I had an interview with my branch presidents counselor on the second day. The interview made me realize that I had a choice to make here. Either, I could be humble enough to change something - my attitude - and have a great time and help others to have an amazing time or I could have a miserable time, give others a miserable time and look back happy that my MTC time was over. 
And I decided I would make it a great time.

Only about 20minutes later, the branch president called me as a Sister Training Leader. That totally surprised me because, at that time, I didn't seem like the right person to call to take care of a bunch of new sisters coming in. I learned so much during that short time as an STL. I learned that leadership is best done by example and service. And with service I mostly mean charity. I love those seven sisters to pieces! And I love my MTC companions, they were the best I could've dreamt for and we were a dreamteam:) And serving all of them, made me incredibly happy.

I soon had to realize that my MTC time was over and I was going back to the real world. Once again, I was asked to start all over again and feel like a golden (greenie) and getting trained all over again and having people say that I'd only been out for a day. My mission has taught me so much, especially about being teachable and humble.

My next, third and last transfer went by veeery slowly. Mostly, because my migraines got worse and worse. After 3,5 months of migraines I was exhausted. I wanted to sleep but I couldn't because I wanted to do missionary work but at the same time, I knew I couldn't do it. At least not for another 14,5 months. Even though it seemed horrible and dreary, it was an amazing transfer because  of the people I met and taught. It amazed me that people would put so much trust and hope in the things I (and the Holy Ghost) taught them. I was able to teach a wonderful family and see Marquito baptized, make amazing friends and make a difference in people's lives without realizing it. Among my favourite memories are our visits with Fernanda and Chris. All the people I met and taught meant the world to me and they were always in my prayers and still are. 

Eventually, I felt like I had given my mission and the Lord everything I had - my health included and I was sent home on medical leave without having been given a choice. 

I read a verse in Doctrine and Covenants that really helped me deal with this decision that was obviously not mine: 

49 Verily, verily, I say unto you, that when I give a commandment to any of the sons of men to do a work unto my name, and those sons of men go with all their might and with all they have to perform that work, and cease not their diligence, and their enemies come upon them and hinder them from performing that work, behold, it behooveth me to require that work no more at the hands of those sons of men, but to accept of their offerings.

Nobody can look behind a returned missionary of any kind and I don't expect people to understand things they've never experienced, but with this blog post I would like to increase awareness and understanding. 

Don't talk about (E)RMs behind their backs wondering if they're worthy. Don't make weird jokes on their first day back in their ward. Love them and let them know they belong. I am so grateful for my loving student ward that made me feel welcome last sunday. Because even though I might be an (overly) confident girl, I was extremely scared to go back to church and face that kind of stuff.

I can tell you, early returned missionaries are going to be grateful for your love and support!

Why I'm serving a mission!

2 5 D A Y S

that's how much I have left before I embark on a journey so different from everything I have ever done in my life.

Over the last 6 months (while I made the decision to serve a full-time mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, started the mission papers, sent them away, waited patiently, received my mission call to the 
<UTAH SALT LAKE CITY MISSION SPANISH SPEAKING>
and opened it, waited patiently for the days to pass only to then wish I had more days left) - During all this time, I've had many many people ask me THE 1-million-dollar Question:

"Why are you going on a mission?"

WHY (...they ask me):

My parents, trying to understand me my reasons, 
the missionaries, because they've been there,
the members of my branch, because they're proud (apparently I'm the first sister they're sending away:-) )
the members of my (ex-)ward, because I only left the ward mere 10 months ago to go to law school and they're confused
my friends and random people I meet (e.g. on airplanes), because they're interested and have considered a mission themselves / served a mission / never heard of the church before. 

It's just like an engagement. Anyone who's been engaged? Bear with me. I haven't!
(Wow, that was the most unnecessary sentence in the history of my blog)  But every time someone gets engaged it feels like every 5 seconds someone comes up and asks: "Oooh that's a pretty ring / I got the invite / Your parents told me / I stalked your facebook, how did he ask you? No judgement here, I'm (probably) equally guilty. 
You've told the story a hundred thousand million times, it might even already bore you.
You wish you could just tell everyone while you're still all excited
  
I love sharing "my story" so I'm writing it down here so that I can just refer to my blog if anyone anywhere ever asks me again and at the same time, increasing the number of views on my blog  Just kidding!:D 
I hope you enjoy my stony path of the last 6 months, I hope you'll also want to share the next 18 months with me, my E-mail and address in Utah will be regularily posted on my facebook account by my little sister (haven't asked her yet, but I'm sure she'll do it anyway!)

My Story  

I've always wanted to serve a mission.
As a child I grew up with the enthusiasm and hope of "one day, being called as a missionary". 
And then, I never grew the "foot or two" that qualify for missionary work and I got discouraged because everyone else was so tall.... 
I loved the missionaries, I loved the happiness they radiated. I loved the joy they brought to others' lives and the joy they seemed to have from sharing the Gospel. 
I decided that when I was grown-up I would be just like them:-) Yep, I was cute like that.

Fantasizing and dreaming is wonderful, but one day you grow up and realize that life isn't a dream. And then I realized what a sacrifice it must have been for all those dozens of missionaries that have (without realizing it) influenced my life for good to come here. 
Everything they must have left behind. And now there I was, asking myself, if I could make that sacrifice. 

I graduated high school barely 3 months after my 18th birthday. Sister Missionaries have to be 19 years old to serve. That meant waiting ... maths ... 9 months! With not much to do. Technically, I could have a kid in 9 months! 
Putting my education on hold for (more maths!) 27 months! I wanted to go to University. (I didn't check with a calculator so you better correct me if I was wrong, I was trying to solve 18+9 if that's not perfectly obvious :P )

So Tabea, what's it gonna be?

I changed my mind. A lot. But I guess that's what growing up and finding yourself is about. I went from serving a mission to not serving a mission to serving a mission later in a matter of seconds.

Doctrine&Covenants 4: 3 says: "If ye have desires to serve God ye are called to the work"

I wanted to serve God. During the summer break of my senior year my stake's youth (including me) spent two weeks in Sweden and Denmark. It was a very spiritual youth convention for me. We had the opportunity to attend the Copenhagen Temple. And that's when I got my answer: serve a mini mission.

Confused? 

I did serve a mini mission in September 2014 in the Berlin Germany Mission. It was one of the best experiences of my life. It literally felt like I was gone for 18 months. I learned so much. Especially about missionary work. And it has helped me now, because I kind of know what I'm getting myself into and it's de-iced the frozen water I'm jumping into. 

To me, I had "served" and now I could start law school. What a perfect plan! I had lost no time at all and I had gotten all I wanted. That's what I call efficient! 

I moved to Münster, I studied Law, I started institute, I found new friends, I learned so many new things. 
I literally LOVED my life. I loved law, even though it was tough and soo much work. I loved living by myself and having my own rules. I loved Münster. I loved my cute, little branch, I loved my church calling. I loved my friends, at University and my YSA friends from church. Life was pretty much perfect. I didn't want to change anything. 

By then I had pretty much forgotten about my desire to serve a mission. It was a few weeks before Christmas and I was visiting a friend in Essen. She wanted to serve a mission and had the mission papers there. And suddenly, it was like a fire in my heart. A warm fire. I wanted to serve a mission! 

I thought about the Pro's and Con's. I considered the consequences: Losing my apartment, leaving University mid-way, leaving my friends, leaving a city I'd come to love.
I thought about how much I would learn! About my Heavenly Father, about myself. I thought about the hearts that I would touch and the e t e r n a l  j o y I could bring to someone else's family. 

All that meant so much to me that I could let go of my beloved life for 18 months.  


Decision made, I called my parents. They were not too happy. It didn't make too much sense to them. They were pretty mad. And while I spent the Christmas holidays with them, I reconsidered the answer I had received and decided i might just wait 4 years to get my degree and then serve with my sister and her boyfriend "best friend". Another perfect, efficient plan, isn't it?

I've come to learn, that we, as busy people with limited time before we turn 21 and old, want to be as efficient as possible. And that's good and important on this earth. But I've realized that God really does have a different perspective. And his bigger picture is the present and future we can and should trust. 
I might be sacrificing everything that means the WORLD to me, but I trust him to give me something in return, that will make me more the woman that he wants and needs me to become. It's not been as easy as this sounds. It still isn't. Some people that I constantly cry over will know:-D

Long story, short: I'd already talked to my branch president, President Vermillion, before Christmas. He was released the week I came back: January 4th 2015. Our new branch president apparently had been our high counselor. I'd never met him before (Blame on me, here, I'd probably been at home the sundays he'd come and I'd only been in the branch for 3 months). Knowing how busy that kind of transition can be from my dad (an ex-bishop) I decided to just wait. Maybe he didn't even know about my desire to serve a mission? If he did, he'd sure come to me wondering why I wasn't asking for my mission papers.

On January 11th, the next sunday, I had decided to just not say anything. But I had this strong impression to wait and talk to my new branch president, President Wulff. I didn't know where that came from and what I was supposed to tell him and I guess whatever I said can be summarized as;
"I want to serve a mission, but I don't really want to serve a mission anymore"
I guess whatever he thought can be summarized as "!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!"

He gave me 48 hours to ponder decide and we made an appointment for Tuesday, January 13th 8:00 p.m.



I think those were the most intense 48 hours of my life. And then I came to a point where I just KNEW I was needed somewhere right now. And it was on a mission. I've never felt the spirit so much than in those 48 hours and the week that followed. 

I also cried a lot, because I knew what I would give up. More than my new-found student life I would miss my family and my close friends. The people who have been a major part of my life for so many years. I didn't want them to forget me. I didn't want us to break contact. I know what I'm talking about, because as a 19 year-old LDS female I've had a LOT of my male friends leave for 2 years. I didn't want to miss my little sister turning 16 and my brother preparing to serve a mission. Summer, autumn, spring holidays. Christmases, Birthdays. Funerals.  Saying good-bye to my family in Spain this Easter was a very painful thing to do. Hearing my own 92 year-old grandmother telling me she was disappointed I was leaving law school etc.

However, all that doesn't matter. Because I honestly believe that 

I t  w i l l  b e  w o r t h  it.

And if you're thinking about whether or not to serve a mission - Stick to the answer you received. Your Heavenly Father loves you. And he has a plan for you. It might differ             c o m p l e t e l y from your plan, but he knows what will (ultimately) make you happy. 
Honestly, I don't know what I'm doing here. I don't know where I'm going, I don't know what's waiting for me and I don't know what's going to happen when I eventually come back in December of 2016. 

I only know how incredibly h a p p y  I was when I opened my mission call, the day after my 19th birthday, the night before my endowment. I'm excited to serve a mission! And it's going to be a dream come true...

... in 2 5 D A Y S 

What if this happened to you...?

Last night I booked a Lufthansa Flight for next week from Düsseldorf International Airport to Valencia. With an Airbus 320. 

This morning, an Airbus A320 of Lufthansa's daughter airline Germanwings from Barcelona destined to Düsseldorf International Airport never landed.

I'm shocked. Right now, writing this blog post, I am crying. And my thoughts are with the passengers of Flight 4U9525 and their families, the Gymnasium of Haltern, their staff and students, and the exchange students' host families in Barcelona. Those students and the babies - for an unknown reason, they didn't get a chance to live, to learn, to progress, to love and to live their dreams.

Earlier I was driving (below speed limit for the first time in my driving history) and attempted to imagine what it would be like to sit in an airplane, fully aware that I would crash and possibly die. 

What would I think about? How would I try to uplift myself and the people around me one last time? 
A horrible situation like that is incomprehensible for my 19-year-old frequent flyer mind. I tried to imagine what I would regret most in my life and what I would do better if I got a second chance.

I guess my heart would be focused on those precious people in my life that I love: my family, my boyfriend (this is hypothetical, so I might as well have a boyfriend) and my friends. 

It's strange that all that matters in the end really isn't money and social status, even though that seems to be pretty much everything people aspire to these days. I don't think my bank account would ever cross my mind. Or my suitcase and all my expensive clothes and make-up in the cargo. 

I admit that I've been quite discouraged with my life these days. The fact that I graduated almost a year ago and the feeling that I haven't really advanced at all since then, the knowledge that I'm putting my education on hold for 18 months to serve a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of latter-day saints. The loneliness I feel all the time in my apartment. 


However, when I think of the souls that lost their mortal bodies in the A320 aircraft this morning, I am so grateful for the chance I have to live and to choose and to change. I am grateful for the knowledge I have that this life doesn't end with death. I know that there is more to our existence than the few years we have here. I am so grateful to know that whoever I lose on earth, I will see again hereafter. I am grateful for a God that loves us enough to grant us this experience. 

My biggest regret would be not to have been as happy as I could have been. With all that I have been given, there is no reason for me to complain or to minimize my potential happiness. 
Hardships make us stronger. Let us all pray for the families that were destroyed and the hopes and dreams that were crushed today. God bless them. And may we all use the time we have wisely.

OMG 50 Shades of Grey is...

...such a terribly bad and destructive influence on today's teens.

Back in the 90's:

I'm young. Or at least I look young. But back in the 90's, when I was born, a porn book dealing with a woman's adventures in being manhandled and used by an emotionally stunted playboy would not have been a phenomenom.

Let's look back:

I grew up with the Harry Potter series. And I love them. They taught me good stuff. 

Back then, lonely teenage girls were taught to fight, even when their crush left them for their own good (look at Ginny. And she turned out alright.).

Schools were something to look forward to all summer! Okay, maybe nobody, including myself, will agree. Teachers cared about the well-being of their students, except the ones on Voldemorts side anyways:D


And LOVE, damnit that book really taught us what love is all about. Brotherhood, romance, charity, ... Does the list end? It taught us the true meaning of friendship! Of sacrifice! What was it that Voldmort never had? A nose?:D He will never know love. And that makes him vulnerable and weaker than Harry Potter. And please don't cry but remember Severus Snape and his eternal love for Lily Potter. Always. This one word weighs more than all three books of the Shades of Grey trilogy.


"If you want to know what a man's like, take a look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals" - Sirius Black. Now remember Dobby? :( R.I.P. I cried so much when he died! But look at how Harry Potter, an actual man compared to Christian Grey, treated him even though he had (what was that I heard in the trailer?) a "hard start in life" with an abusive family. Did he become a control freak and start raping brunette women cause they looked like his adoptive-mom-slash-aunt? Can't remember that part of the story. And look how Christian Grey treats not only his inferiors but his equals -'cause that's what women are, BTW.

And let's not forget Dumbledore sharing his divine wisdom with us. Among others, that "Happiness can be found in the darkest of all times, if one only remembers to turn on the light".

Today:

Now that's a book I'm proud to read. However, I have noticed that many people (not only, but mostly women and tragically, young girls) find it brave to read a book like "50 shades of grey" in public. I'd find that mostly embarrassing. Honestly, if I'd be sitting in the London Underground and the guy across me were reading (more like "looking into") a playboy magazine, I'd be disgusted. Not amazed. Or, proud. 
What are we teaching the kids around us? Because I promise you they watch us. They grow up seeing adults look at their phones all day like robots and think it's normal. They see people worldwide get all heated about literotica, which is basically all that 50 shades of grey is, and think that's fine.

After 24,000 hours on spotify in 2014 I've gotten used to the amount of advertisements. It's come to the point where I can literally have a conversation with the ad. Gross huh? I guess the mission will change that. And in all honesty there is NOTHING in this society that I find more disgusting right now than the shades of grey-fever. This Valentine's Day special is NOT the cinema premiere of 50 shades of grey. I hear it every 5 minutes. On Spotify. On YouTube. Those terrible 15 seconds of advertisement that you can't skip and there's no premium you can buy. Even on the darn radio! And geez, I can't repeat again how that is desensitizing our society to believe that:

Firstly, it's okay to control your partner. This is what Christian teaches us. He is a control freak - he says so in the first chapter! And I know, because for the sole purpose of informing YOU, my dear fellow readers, I sacrificed myself so you didn't have to, and I read the first chapter. The first 9 pages or so. And it was enough to make me puke even thinking about -not even close to fantasizing- a man like Christian.

And secondly, that, given enough time, you can change someone. Ana's message in the story (Look, my sentences kinda even sound like staccato shades of grey by now). There's nothing wrong with this message if you want to help somebody to quit smoking etc. But we're talking about a physically abusive, condescending and controlling relationship here. And Ana puts up with it because she believes that if she and her "inner goddess" (What is that anyway??) give him everything he wants, whenever he wants, she'll be able to change him. 
How many girls are going to end up in a relationship with Bad Boys because they think that by finding their "hidden, true side" they will get. to. him. 

When will the young girls learn that everything that matters in the world is NOT finding a man. Not a perfect, equally possessive 100 year-old man, like Edward and not a cruel, condescending dick like Christian.

And when will the young girls learn that they need to become independent individuals? Be strong and change something for the better? Something like that? Hermione Granger-style?

So challenge: Tomorrow, when 50 Shades of Shit Grey is aired, are you going to watch it? Or are you stepping up to the world and showing society what true men and women are like. And showing the girls and guys out there what they are to become.


'Cause swallow it. Harry, Ron and Hermoine are way more human (including loving, caring, smart, wise, supporting, romantic, brave etc.) than Ana and Christian.

  

Briefe an meinen Professor

Wie viele von euch wissen .... ich studiere Jura. Und viele von euch haben genau so reagiert: "Oh". 

Und in den vergangenen 4 Monaten habe ich herzlich wenig anderes gemacht als mich mit selbstverliebten, PR-süchtigen (man lese die FAZ Artikel von Prof. Dr. Oestmann und die vielen kritischen Antworten seiner Kolleginnen und Kollegen in derselben über-regionalen Zeitschrift) , hochnäsigen und (zum Teil) berühmten Juristen (das bezieht sich nur auf Richter Alexander Hold. Jo, der echte. Aus Sat1.) dieser Welt herumzuschlagen. Mit Ausnahme von Prof. Dr. Krumm, aber das ist ja offensichtlich:D. Das ist jetzt stark übertrieben:D Ich fand die Artikel unserer Professoren höchst interessant und habe sie auch alle gelesen. Im Übrigen macht mir mein Studium auch "Spaß" (im engeren Sinn:P)

Die Spitze des Eisbergs ist jede Woche die langersehnte Kriminologie Vorlesung mit Pia und Prof. Dr. Boers. Besser bekannt als der, dessen meistgenutzte Quelle und Verfasser der "Tipps für die Nachbearbeitung" er selbst ist. 
Ich glaube niemand hat meine vielen Kommentare in der 14. Reihe überhört und ich glaube ich war mehrfach sehr kurz davor den Saal zu verlassen.

Ich habe sehr viel von "Klaus" gelernt. Wie zum Beispiel, dass kein wahrer Deutscher nicht trinkt und nie "gekifft" hat (Was soll das überhaupt sein?). Dass die USA das schlimmste Land der Welt ist, gleich gefolgt von den Chinesen (Oh man die Chinesen....Das scheinen auch sehr unmenschliche Kreaturen zu sein. Seit heute sind sie nur noch als die "Unzivilisierten" zu bezeichnen). Dass Frauen selbst Schuld an allen Formen von sexueller Belästigung durch Männer sind aber gleichzeitig keinen Anhaltspunkt für "Kriminalitätsfurcht" haben und ruhig gelassen durch die Stadt laufen sollen (Das hab ich heute leider auch nicht ganz verstanden. Da war ich noch am kochen, weil) Man Angst haben muss vor schwarzen Männern am Straßenrand und lieber einen großen Bogen um jeden Ausländer machen sollte. Im Übrigen ist Prof. Dr. Boers aber zum Glück ein perfekter Arier, dessen Größe und Autorität nach eigenen Angaben jeden Menschen mit kriminellen Absichten abschrecken sollte (Die Chabos wissen halt wer der Babo ist *-*) 

Und das alles kommt von einem Professor, der am liebsten die ganze Vorlesung lang auf Englisch reden würde und die USA doch mehr preist als sein gehasstes Duisburg. 

Ich habe im Abitur aus Überzeugung die folgenden Worte auswendig gelernt: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal. That they have been endowed by their creator with certain, unalleinable rights. That among these are life, liberty and the persuit of happiness" -Declaration of Independence 1776

Ich wünsche mir nichts lieber als das endlich alle Menschen als gleich beachtet werden würden. Die Armen und die Reichen, die Schwarzen und die Weißen. Die Frauen und die Männer. Die Chinesen und die Deutschen.
Wir sind alle vom gleichen Gott geschaffen worden und keiner ist besser als der andere. Und lieber Prof. Dr. Boers, ich bin auch nicht sozial inkompetent, weil ich das publiziere.

#HeForShe #MeForYou


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sehr geehrter Herr Prof. Dr. Boers,

mein Name ist ***** ************* und ich bin eine Teilnehmerin Ihrer Vorlesung über Kriminologie.

In Ihrer heutigen Vorlesung haben Sie sinngemäß gesagt:

"Mädels, wundert euch nicht, dass ihr auf der Straße angebaggert oder sexuell belästigt werdet, wenn ihr euch so anzieht." Diese Meinung können Sie aus unterschiedlichsten Gründen haben. Normalerweise stehe ich Meinungen, die von meiner eigenen abweichen sehr offen gegenüber, jedoch konnte ich die Ihre heute guten Gewissens nicht unkommentiert so stehen lassen.

Dies würde bedeuten, dass Frauen selbst schuld seien, wenn sie sexuell misshandelt oder belästigt werden. Warum sind Männer Ihrer Meinung nach nicht für ihre eigenen Handlungen verantwortlich? Wie kommen Sie darauf Frauen die Schuld zu geben für ihre Misshandlung, während eine Belästigung oder Misshandlung doch voraussetzt, dass es gegen ihren Willen geschieht?

Das würde bedeuten, dass die menschliche Spezies in zwei Teile unterteilt wäre: Die weibliche, die offensichtlich durch ihre Kleidung alle wissen lässt, es nicht erwarten zu können, sexuell missbraucht zu werden, und der männliche, unkontrollierbare Teil der Gesellschaft. Männer wären dann so, wie Edward aus der Twilight Saga mit Ekel die Werwölfe beschreibt: Keine Selbstdisziplin, nur trieborientiert.

Noch dazu, können sie nichts dafür. Sie sind nicht Schuld. Es ist ja die Schuld der Frauen.

Keine Frau möchte sexuell misshandelt werden. Wir gehen nicht zu H&M und suchen uns ein besonders kurzes, provokantes Outfit aus um eine sexuelle Misshandlung zu provozieren. 

Ich hoffe, dass Sie nicht in einer solchen Gesellschaft leben wollen, in der für Männer alles gerechtfertigt ist und in der Frauen als Sündenböcke benutzt werden. In einer Gesellschaft, in der Frauen somit keinen Wert haben, der über ihren Körper hinausgeht. Eine Gesellschaft, in der Frauen keinen Respekt verdienen und in der Männer Frauen grenzenlos ausnutzen können, denn "wir sind ja selbst schuld".

Können Sie sich eine Gerichtsverhandlung vorstellen, in der ein Mann eine sexuelle Misshandlung zugibt, aber dann sagt, es sei nicht seine Schuld, denn die Fraue habe ein Top / ein Minirock / auffäliges Make-up getragen, oder einfach nur einen schönen Hintern gehabt? Können Sie sich ferner vorstellen, dass der Richter diesen freispricht, aus Unschuld? Denn der Mann hat ja nichts getan! Es war die Schuld der Frau!

Was sollen denn Frauen Ihrer Meinung nach tun, um sich und ihren Körper zu schützen? Nicht mehr aus dem Haus gehen? Eine Burka / ein Hijab tragen? Denken Sie nicht auch, dass Männer nicht vielleicht doch eine kleine Verantwortung haben, Frauen als menschliches Gegenüber zu respektieren?

Mit Sicherheit haben Sie eine Ehefrau / eine Lebensgefährtin, vielleicht sogar Töchter und doch ganz sicherlich wenigstens eine Mutter, die Sie respektieren, sogar über ihren Körper hinaus. Wie würden Sie sich ehrlich fühlen, wenn eine der oben genannten Frauen in Ihrem Leben sexuell misshandelt werden würde und auch noch selbst dafür Schuld tragen würde? Wenn die Tat, der sie zum Opfer gefallen ist, legitim wäre und die Gesellschaft akzeptieren würde, dass der Mann keine Verantwortung für eine solche Tat trägt?

Genauso sind auch ältere Menschen nicht "selber Schuld", dass sie Gewalt zum Opfer fallen, wenn sie nach 22:00 Uhr aus dem Haus gehen. Meine Oma darf nachts ihr Haus verlassen. Ich darf tragen was ich möchte, und gehen wohin ich möchte, oder wenigstens würde ich mir das wünschen.

Vielen Dank, dass Sie sich die Zeit genommen haben meine E-Mail zu lesen.

Mit freundlichen Grüßen,