I’m very body positive and pro nudity for an American who grew up Catholic, but moving to Germany unleashed similar hangups for me.
Fun story: the first time I used the communal shower at the pool naked (like everyone else here), a child pointed at my nipple piercing and loudly asked “mommy, what’s that on her nipple,” so everyone turned to stare at my tits. I was doubly overwhelmed, because it was the first time I’d heard the vernacular term for a nipple in German: “Brustwarze,” which literally translates to “breast wart,” which is fucking horrendous.
If it weren’t for the fact that I remember that every time I encounter the word “Brustwarze,” I think I’d have blocked it out.
I’m very body positive and pro nudity for an American who grew up Catholic, but moving to Germany unleashed similar hangups for me.
Fun story: the first time I used the communal shower at the pool naked (like everyone else here), a child pointed at my nipple piercing and loudly asked “mommy, what’s that on her nipple,” so everyone turned to stare at my tits. I was doubly overwhelmed, because it was the first time I’d heard the vernacular term for a nipple in German: “Brustwarze,” which literally translates to “breast wart,” which is fucking horrendous.
If it weren’t for the fact that I remember that every time I encounter the word “Brustwarze,” I think I’d have blocked it out.
And it’s little things like that which cause German to be known as the language of love.
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