Weddings, Ostriches and Ruins – German Tuscany? Not!

Welcome to “Germany’s Tuscany”

On the advice of friends, I decided to spend some time in the Uckermark. The so-called “Tuscany of Germany.” Well…

I drive through fields and forests – beautiful, at first glance. But what greets me looks like a landscape of ruins. From the outside, at least. People actually do live there. Mean to say, I know. Many Berliners would be appalled – it’s their number one getaway, after all. According to Berliners themselves, the city doesn’t have much greenery – apart from the vast Tiergarten, (which stretches across half the city), and the Grunewald, (another large forest area within the city limits).

Well, the Uckermark has meadows. And with the meadows comes that specific East German bleakness: grey walls, crumbling facades – a charm only Berliners seem to love. They gather in the grimmest corners of the Uckermark and build a “Berlin in nature,” with stylish cafés and rising prices that locals often can no longer afford. Even East German charm has become expensive.

I come to terms with my decision and try to make the best of it.

Ostrich Farm and Barefoot Trails: Mindfulness in the Uckermark

Not far from where I’m staying, I soon discover my favorite place: an ostrich farm. Over a hundred of these curious birds live there. They stare at you as if *you* were the exotic creature in the zoo. There are ostrich babies as well – wobbly, fluffy. The grounds are designed with love, full of small details like flowers growing out of old suitcases.

After exploring the farm, you can eat at the restaurant. Yes, ostrich meat.

Macabre? Maybe. But the owners use every part of the animal: the meat, feathers for dusters, leather for bags, and even the legs for walking sticks. They serve only what’s available – if you get there late, the meat might be sold out. A large group can even share an ostrich egg – which makes about as many servings as 30 chicken eggs.

Next door is a barefoot park. Different textures – mud, corks, stones, moss – turn the walk into a sensory experience. A summer joy in mindfulness. Of course, my thoughts wander to Lucas, and how much fun we would’ve had here. These were the kinds of moments that once connected us.

Love, a Wedding and the Funeral of a Toxic Past

A few days later, a special event: the wedding of my ex-boyfriend from 15 years ago. A welcome change of pace.

But on the day itself, I wake up with a headache. My body pulls me back down. Weak. Trembling. In full alert. I close my eyes – and see Lucas. Yelling. Laughing at me. Belittling me. I see Hamburg, our last shared city. The streets I walked, feeling exposed, sad, deceived.

Is this PTSD? Am I even allowed to say that? I wasn’t in a war. I wasn’t beaten close to death. I didn’t flee my country on a boat. I was safe. And yet: my body trembles – with a fear that constantly expects someone to come around the corner and verbally destroy me.

Along with it, a deeply ingrained belief that I am a bad person. A failure. A nothing. A monster. Something that was suggested to me almost daily over the past years – and that my body and mind have internalized.

I’ve read a lot about trauma healing. Steady therapy isn’t an option right now because I’m on the move. But there are other things that help:

* Making music, dancing

* Writing

* Spending time with animals

* Meditation

It was existential. Even though I “haven’t experienced anything truly bad.” Because everything I was got torn down – my thoughts, my feelings, my view of the world.

“Keep peace by bending to your husband’s will.” I heard that on a podcast about relationships. In some cultures, it’s a lived truth. I’ve often wondered if things would’ve stayed harmonious if I had simply submitted to him. I used to say to him: You don’t need me. You need someone without a personality. Without desires.

“It was so easy with you. And now you just fight me,” he often said. “You don’t listen. You argue. You don’t learn.”

But what was I supposed to learn?

I felt like his student. He: the teacher of life. Hours of monologues about how the world works. I listened. Fascinated by his thoughts. That’s also why I loved him.

I had been looking forward to the wedding – but carried a certain heaviness with me. Which quickly faded. My past was present, but so was love. What moved me most: the couple had invited their ex-partners. Something unimaginable in my previous relationship. Had I still been with Lucas, I wouldn’t have been allowed to attend at all. But here, past relationships were welcomed – as part of a full life. A world of tolerance and openness. The way I always wanted to live.

In Lucas’s world, it was different. Keeping friendly contact with exes was considered a harem – something promiscuous, shameful.

In the middle of this warm, loving atmosphere, a message popped up from an unknown Georgian number. It was him. Angry that I had contacted his parents about his things. I should deal with him directly, he said.

I ignored it.

I looked around at all these open-hearted people – life with Lucas suddenly felt very far away. Let him rant. I now know how I want to live: understanding, free, loving. And that’s not possible with him.

I put down my phone. A wave of relief washed over me.

I believe: to heal, you have to go out into the world. Be around people who are the kind of person you want to be. Talk. Dance. Soak up life. All the life that was drained out of you.

Unexpected Beauty at the End of the Road

Back in the Uckermark, I take a bike on my last day and actually discover beautiful corners. One place is called Morgenland – a German word once used to describe the Orient. Another - Afrika. The latter, a small hamlet of Swedish and timber-framed houses in the middle of the forest. I pass through villages with colorful, painted homes. Friendly. Alive. So this is possible too, I think.

I didn’t find the “Tuscany of Germany.” But I’m grateful – for the many beautiful landscapes I’ve seen in my life. And I made peace with the Uckermark. I can cross it off my bucket list – and mark another step away from my past.

Because I said yes. To life. And to myself.

Be Well,

Vaselisa