Tits

Sitting in the garden, I watch a pair of tits- not mine- but those nesting in our birdhouse. Their world is small, but their work is immense. They take turns—bringing tiny caterpillars, feeding the young, standing guard, cleaning the nest. No arguing over who should do what. No superiority of the male, no submission of the female. Just cooperation. Equality. Life.

Meanwhile, online, I scroll through posts about women's rights, feminism, or May Day, and read the comments—grown boys shouting, men who never received emotional mirroring from their mothers and now demand it from women everywhere. There's no birdlike wisdom in them—just emotional laziness, soaked in nostalgic longing for maternal comfort.

Children raised by emotionally immature parents often learn to ignore themselves and serve roles that don't fit. When such a child is a boy, he grows into a man who seeks not a partner but a substitute mother. His love becomes conditional. His support—selective. His respect—based on how well you fill the emptiness inside him.

These "mama's boys" attack anything that threatens their illusion of safety. For them, safety lies in stagnation. Emotionally stuck in childhood, where mother gave endlessly and asked for nothing—they now expect the same from women. Insults and entitlement are shields against the truth: adulthood requires effort. Partnership requires maturity. Parenthood—reciprocity.

More than a century ago, Zofka Kveder wrote about women who wanted more than to be silent companions in male worlds—they longed to be autonomous, thinking, feeling beings. Her voice still echoes—reminding us that freedom is never handed over. It's claimed. Not only in society, but in intimacy too—where love isn't measured in sacrifice, but in mutuality.

And while birds know nothing of patriarchy, they build homes rooted in cooperation. They raise life together—each doing their part, knowing the other can't do it alone. Love isn't a sermon—it's an act. In that sense, these tiny birds teach us more than a thousand patriarchal speeches or online rants from fragile masculinity.

Maybe it's time to quiet the noise, observe—and learn. Not from those who shout online, but from those who sing and care without needing applause.

Couples therapy is a space of courage, where two people take off the masks of roles, illusions, and survival strategies. Where we stop searching for a mother, a father, or a savior—and instead find an ally in love. Like the pair of tits—each with their own wing, both knowing that to fly means to fly together.

We may not have feathers, but when we love with awareness, with tenderness and maturity, our hearts learn to take off and land. And that is freedom—untouched by tradition or fear. Because love, as Zofka Kveder might say, isn't a role—it's a will. And always, again and again, a practice of liberation.

Relational therapy for individuals and couples: https://www.relationalfengshui.com/sl/