International Women’s Day is here again, and I feel very far away from it. While corporations flood social media with pink logos, discount codes, and hollow slogans, women and marginalized people across the world are fighting for their most basic rights. Women in Iran, Afghanistan, Sudan, and countless other places are resisting oppressive regimes at the cost of their lives. Palestinian women, who have long endured occupation, displacement, and systemic violence, now face an escalating humanitarian crisis that the world largely turns away from. In the so-called Western democracies, political discourse is increasingly amplifying racist and islamophobic narratives that perpetuate division and hatred, distracting from the structural inequalities we need to confront. And here in Germany, we celebrate by handing out flowers.
The Illusion of Progress
If you followed the German election campaigns, you could be forgiven for thinking that gender equality was no longer an issue. Security and migration dominated the discourse to an absurd extent, leaving little room for other topics. When gender was mentioned at all, it was often as a footnote in discussions about Trump’s anti-trans hate campaigns—which our newly elected chancellor did not distance himself from. Just like his American colleague, he also seems to be liking the gender-binary a lot.
But the numbers don’t lie. Women in Germany still earn significantly less than men. They remain underrepresented in leadership positions, bear the brunt of unpaid care work, and are at a higher risk of gender-based violence. Instead of progress, we have witnessed regression. The Bundestag, already male-dominated, has become even more so after the latest election. Conservative and right-wing parties, which openly oppose gender equality measures, have gained ground. A recent attempt to reform abortion laws—one of the most basic aspects of bodily autonomy—was crushed, thanks in part to the very party that is now leading the government. The CDU has consistently resisted meaningful change, ensuring that abortion remains in the criminal code. The message is clear: women’s rights are negotiable, expendable, always up for debate.
The Weight of Activism
As International Women’s Day approaches, I feel a different kind of exhaustion. Maybe it’s activist burnout, or maybe it’s the slow realization that no matter how much energy we pour into fighting for justice, the backlash only intensifies. I’ve spent the last eight years dedicating myself to social justice and gender equity, yet I often feel like it’s never enough. How could it be, when every day brings another devastating setback? In many regards, we are at a worse point now than we were when I began my feminist education.
For a moment, after #MeToo and the global feminist uprisings, it seemed like we had reached a turning point. There was hope that women’s voices were finally being heard, that gender justice mattered. Intersectional thinking slowly seemed to be shifting paradigms—companies and institutions appeared to recognize the need to educate themselves. There was an increase in interest in the interplay between gender, race and class and for some time it seemed like a vast majority of people believed that accounting for varied lived experiences (at the workplace) was a good thing.
But we were taught better. Now, every day feels like a new nightmare: trans people being stripped of their rights, tech billionaires glorifying “masculine energy,” predators running for office—and winning. Misogyny, homophobia, (hetero)sexism, antisemitism, and racism are no longer whispered—they are shouted, normalized, woven into political discourse from Argentina to the US, right back to Germany. And while corporations celebrate women with flowers and chocolates, the people who actually fight for justice—grassroots activists, community organizers, feminist scholars—are burning out. It feels like a slap in the face to watch these PR stunts while I see people in my own community battling exhaustion, deep anxiety, and hopelessness.
The Need for Rest
And yet, every year, IWD is turned into a shiny spectacle. Corporate campaigns tell us “Yes, she can!” while so many actually can’t. Not because they lack ambition, but because they are too busy surviving. It’s easy to sell empowerment in a world where the structural barriers are never truly addressed. All of this makes me want to take to the streets more than ever. I want to scream into my pillow. But most of all, I want to remind myself - any everyone in activism - that we will burn out if we don’t take care of ourselves.
I have seen it happening around me for years. Some of the people I looked up to the most suddenly went very quiet. Then they disappeared completely. At the current trajectory of bad news, we will not win this fight if we do it “full-time” for the next decades. It might go well for another couple of years, but not until we reach gender equity. Over the sequence of the polical events throughout the last year, I have noticed a change in my team - and in myself. Cynicism, frustration, exhaustion. Especially those of us who are activists in their free-time as well as for a living, have no break. This means: We need new strategies. In order to emotionally cope with the situation of extreme backlash, we need to protect ourselves for the sake of our mental health but also for the sake of the fight that we are trying to win. It comes as no surprise to me that over the last few years, there has been more and more literature on the importance of resting. I would like to reframe that: For me, personally, it is detachment that I really need.
Choosing Strategic Detachment
To ensure that I can maintain my energy, I am detaching myself from the discourse from time to time. Detachment to me means emotional and physical distance—in my case, leaving my usual environment. I get out of Berlin, I get out of Germany, I get out of my online spaces. Detaching myself from my normal life allows me to rest—but most of all, it allows me to zoom out. I have come to realize that, given the current trajectory of events, that’s exactly what I need in order to actually make a difference and put my values into practice.
The change we want to make in the world is a deeply personal matter. For me, over the years, I have learned that being strategic about this change is key. Detachment prevents me from getting stuck in a hamster wheel of trying to do as much as possible (and feeling like it’s never enough) and instead helps me focus on doing what's the most impactful .
For me, personally, this means sitting down and being intentional about how I use the powe, the privilege and the voice I have. Activism works on several fronts and I have a whole range of leverage points. I can, for example, repost other people’s political content on my personal Instagram. It soothes me because it is a quick way to “do something” (I tend to do it a lot when I feel very helpless in the face of the current political landscape) but I am also just playing content back to people who are already in my bubble.
Social media is a powerful tool for organizing, but it can also create the illusion that you are always doing something, always being active. While this leaves me feeling stressed out (because I then immediately feel like I am not doing enough), I am probably not really having a great impact unless I am trying to spread events or call-to-action-posts that aim at mobilizing. Obviously, if your followers on IG are very diverse, this is very different and posting news or info-content could be very impactful.
I believe that to really make a difference, I need to channel my energy into spaces where I might actually shift perspectives. In my personal experience, real change happens in conversations, in experiences, in sustained action beyond the algorithm. Finding those opportunities is hard—and for some people it is also not safe. To me, detaching myself from my home but also from my online community helps me think about what it is that I can actually do - strategically - to open new ways forward.
The answers will be different for everyone. Also, online does not equal online. For me, LinkedIn is where I tend to reach a different audience (and face more backlash) than IG because this is where my corporate clients are. This is productive because they are not my friends and we might not share the same value systems.
The Burden of Doing Enough
So, what do we do with International Women’s Day? We need to spread the responsibility. While some of us are doing everything and still feeling like they are not doing enough, others are leaning back. International Women’s Day is a call to action, not a branding opportunity. It should be a day to recognize how far we still have to go and to recommit, not just for a day, but for the fight ahead. If you are already dedicating a lot of capacities into the cause, detaching yourself from it might help you to stay in it - for the long run.