The election is now just five weeks away. It’s impossible to avoid the news about the candidates (whose names in this sentence, anyway, shall go unmentioned), but in the end, we are not just voting for individuals, we are actually voting for our future. And more than that, this election is a chance for us to recognize our own power.
What kind of world do we want to live in? Do we continue to promote policies that reflect a vision of the world that used to exist, or do we start to create a world that reflects who we are, a country were now unmarried women are actually in the majority? The question is, do we wake up as a group and start to exert our influence on public policy (which then affects our possibilities–can you take time off from work to care for your sick single aunt, can you get birth control paid by your health insurance)?
Rebecca Traister, author of All The Single Ladies, wrote an important essay in New York magazine on the rise of the single American woman voter as the most potent voting bloc in the country, back when Hillary and Bernie were still slugging it out in the primary. Now, we have the opportunity to make Rebecca right but only if we actually vote.
“. . .how much of an impact single women will have on this election and on public policy in the years to come depends, in large part, on whether they begin to recognize their growing political power. Part of this is simply a matter of getting out the vote. According to Page Gardner, in 2016, “for the first time in history, a majority of women voters are projected to be unmarried,” but going into the previous presidential-election season, nearly 40 percent of them had not registered to vote. . .
The independent woman, both high earning and low earning, looks into her future and sees decades, or even a lifetime, lived outside marriage, in which she will be responsible for both earning wages and doing her own domestic labor.
This is the new social compact that she requires: stronger equal-pay protections that guarantee women’s labor will not be discounted because of leftover assumptions that they are likely to be supported by husbands; a higher federally mandated minimum wage, which would help to alleviate the burdens of poverty on America’s hardest and least-well-remunerated workers; a national health-care system that covers reproductive intervention, so that those who want to terminate pregnancies or have babies on their own or wait until they are older to do so are able to avail themselves of the best medical technologies; more affordable housing for single people, perhaps subsidized and with attendant tax breaks for single dwellers who choose to live in smaller, environmentally friendly spaces; criminal-justice reforms that address and correct the injustices of our contemporary carceral state; government-subsidized day-care programs; federally mandated paid family leave for both women and men who have new children or who need to take time off to care for ailing family members; universal paid-sick-day compensation, regardless of gender, circumstance, or profession; increases rather than continual decreases in welfare benefits; reduced college costs and quality early-education programs. Come to think of it, these policies would benefit lots of people who are not single women as well.
None of this is easy, or likely to happen quickly, especially not with a Republican-led Congress. But it is the beginning of a new kind of relationship between American women and their government. Single women are taking up space in a world that was not designed for them. They make up a new republic, a new category of citizen. If the country is to flourish, we must make room for free women, and let go of the economic and social systems built around the presumption that no woman really counts unless she is married.”
Chris Tyre over at the lovely blog Nomad + Camera interviewed me about why and how I chose to leave Silicon Valley tech stress for a more artistic life in South America. And how I got here. Plus you can read up on the tangasm. Why wouldn’t you want to read about that? Here’s the lovely Nomad + Camera interview that’s published today!
Chris Tyre interviews digital nomad types all over the world about how they have created new lives for themselves. The interviews are well worth reading.
David Foster Wallace (RIP) and his hilarious essay “A Supposedly Fun Thing I Will Never Do Again” on the “nearly-lethal comforts of cruises” shaped my opinion of cruises. In 1996, Harper’s Magazine asked Wallace to go on a cruise and write a long postcard back and the result was a hilariously snide series of paragraphs that made cruises sound like hell: floating germ factories of overconsumption. After reading the essay, I thought I would never go on a cruise. Plus, I’ve generally been an independent traveler who likes to get deep into the culture and meet people when I travel. Going on a cruise was not on my bucket list. More like my not-to-do-list.
When I got the opportunity to go on a “social impact cruise” for free this year with the newly formed wing of Carnival cruises Fathom Travel, dedicated to social impact travel, I had to wonder, do cruises and social impact go together? What does that even mean? Fathom invited me on as a blogger to spread the word to my readers and I thought, well, volunteer work on a cruise in the Carribbean. Interesting.
Fathom, a dot.org, it turns out, is a very unique newly launched line within Carnival, one of the largest cruise ship lines in the world. Founded by Tara Russell from Boise, Idaho, who has a background in startups and nonprofits, Fathom has a mission to combine personal growth, volunteerism, and travel, to bring out the greatness of human potential through travel, cultural immersion, and what they call “social impact” volunteerism.
Mother-Daughter Bonding, Meeting Up in Miami
I invited my mother to join me, since I live in Buenos Aires and she lives in Rhode Island, this would be a chance for mother-daughter bonding. We would meet in Miami. My mother said yes but she told me later she was afraid she would hate being on a cruise. I felt the same way, but I had actually looked at the website and saw the cruise was integrating yoga, meditation, storytelling and design-thinking workshops along with service projects in the Dominican Republic. I nudged her along to keep an open mind, and so we made our travel plans and we met finally in downtown Miami, the day before the cruise was set to sail.
7 Days from Miami to the Dominican Republic, and What Would Happen???
The cruise would be 7 days long, Sunday to Sunday. We would start off from the Port of Miami, sail to the Dominican Republic docked for three days to do the service projects and tour the country, then sail back for a day and a half to return on Sunday.
The Sunday to embark finally came, and it was thrilling to finally be ready to see what “cruising,” which I would learn is a verb, is all about. I felt a glee when we first boarded, as I walked through the elegant lounges, bars, and dining rooms, and then out on the soupy-air Miami decks looking at the incredible blue of the water. When I proclaimed that I felt like I was on the Titanic on Facebook and my long-time friend Sara commented that only a true Titanic lover would happily make that comparison. I wasn’t really worried about sinking, no. I was just expecting tacky. The aesthetic of the ship of dark woods, antique lamps and artwork, combined with posters with inspirational travel messages, was really appealing.
The Adonia holds 700 people, as opposed to the 4,000 or so that go on a normal Carnival cruise (the kind Wallace was writing about). The sales director later said they consider the Adonia a mix of English country and rock and roll, and that’s fair, since they also had a cover band on the ship with dancing nightly (which brought together all the generations to dance). At our first dinner we shared a table with Monica, who works for Carnival, who said a normal cruise is as big as a football field and you would have to plan your entire day when you leave the room. To me, that sounded awful. But the Adonia was manageable.
The food — and the service — was fantastic, I must say. I was nervous since I have celiac disease and double-checked to be sure they would have gluten-free options. Not only did they have gluten-free options, they had two special diet cooks who would make me almost any dessert I wanted. Every night a waiter would take my order for the next day so they could prepare special meals for me. In fact, if anything, the food was too good. Even as a celiac I ate way too much. David Foster Wallace was right about the overconsumption if not the tackiness.
The people? There were a lot of families and traditional folk, but there was also a bit of everything. We met an Ottawa woman who worked for the Canadian Army in a long-distance relationship with an economics professor from Mississippi, who met up for the cruise. We met single travelers who came just because “they needed to do something” and the trip was a deal at its launch. We met adult sisters traveling together, an aunt who took her nephew on as a graduation present. I connected with some fabulous travel agents who want to do purpose-oriented boutique trips for their new travel agency Intention Travel. They may collaborate with me on the Tango Adventure in Buenos Aires. Here’s us having drinks.
Making a clay water filter with liquid silver and sawdust with the organization Wine to Water in the DR
So what about the social-impact part of the cruise? What did that actually mean? The Fathom staff was made up of mostly young people, some Peace Corps volunteers and Teach for America alums on the staff, and they had partnered with local nonprofit organizations on the Dominican Republic to organized half-day or day-long activities where the ship’s passengers could sign up to “make an impact.”
The impact activities ranged from helping to pour a cement floor for families who had only lived on mud floors, and planting trees to helping create water filters using liquid silver in pottery to kill bacteria and provide safe drinking water, to teaching English to kids and adults in communities and schools who wanted to learn.
My mother and I took part in two “impact activities.” One one day we worked with the local chapter of a global organization called Wine to Water that’s helping to create technology for safe drinking water around the world. Fathom charged $30 for the water filter activity, which went to support the project. The technology was fascinating: we helped make clay water filters that blends clay, sawdust, and liquid silver to kill bacteria.
Another day we trucked out to a village to meet with a community of kids and adults who want to learn English. We met in their homes to practice vocabulary. Here are two of the kids we practiced English with. When you imagine they are getting to practice weekly with native speakers you realize this adds up over time and can make a real impact on a community.
So were the social impact activities genuine? Do they make a difference? I wondered if the social impact would be real, but my mother and I were both impressed in the end. At our final dinner, she said, “You go to church or read the newspaper and people are all talking about these problems with the environment, safe drinking water, poverty, and then here’s this company that’s not just talking about it, they’re doing something and it’s actually effective.” It is impressive. Some of the cement floors are going to families who have infants.
We participated in the sixth cruise to the Dominican Republic and the cumulative impact so far of the cruises have been:
• 728 English learners learning English from the participants who come to practice with them
• 8,000 seedlings for plants in a reforestation project
• 1,679 cocoa nibs sorted for 49,000 chocolate bars
• 3,850 sheets of paper create for a recycled paper project and job opportunities for the women who work on this project
• 16 homes poured with cement floors
• 316 water filters made with liquid silver, sawdust and clay helping 1500 people get safe drinking water without having to buy bottled water, reducing disease and lost time from school and work
Some fun stuff: Waterfalls! Is there anything funner?
We also did fun stuff in the Dominican Republic. My personal favorite was climbing up waterfalls and then shooting down or jumping off them. I must say my mother was quite the trooper for doing this seven-waterfall hike. We’re lucky no one hurt any joints or limbs. Many thanks to our incredible guide Leoni Vargas who took these photos and was able to navigate these wild falls with his phone in a little plastic bag to keep it safe, then he sent me the photos.
Back to a “supposedly fun thing I would never do again.” Would I go on a Fathom cruise again? Yes. It actually was really fun. I love being wrong sometimes. Life is much much more interesting when you are wrong and discover something new.
Here you can see my mother and I discuss the “Fathom Experience” over cocktails by the beach in the Dominican Republic, by the “Malecon” (boardwalk) of Puerto Plata, near where the ship was docked for three days.
I resisted that slogan at first, because I thought, isn’t she with us?
But at the deepest levels of my bones, after watching the amazingly inspirational DNC last night, I’m feeling #imwither.
Many of you might not be. Some of you don’t live in the U.S. Some of you still want Bernie. Some of you might be voting for Trump or Gary Johnson. Or not vote at all.
But I want to lay out for you the import of electing Hillary from a #quirkyalone perspective. And why I hope you will vote in this important election in November. And even get involved in local, one-on-one campaigning. That’s how campaigns are still one. One-on-one talking to get out the vote.
Quirkyalone is inherently a feminist philosophy that presupposes that women are full human beings who don’t need a man to complete us or to live a full life, even if we do want to be in close or committed relationships with men for some or all of our lives. Quirkyalone as a mass phenomenon is only possible historically since women en masse have gotten access to education and the opportunity to have economic equality.
The truth is it’s still often hard for a single woman or mother to make it on her own, or for a woman emerging from divorce to make it, in a world where women are still paid less than men (let’s change that) but we have vastly more freedom than we did before because we don’t need to be married just to survive.
Where does Hillary’s campaign for president fall in this narrative of the arc toward full choice in relationship and full female participation in life? It can’t be overstated the importance of seeing a woman take the reins as a leader in the U.S. There is nothing more delicious than this Quartz headline: “Hillary Clinton’s husband wore a fetching pantsuit to honor her nomination for president.” Last week we saw a trophy wife speak for her two-decades-older husband (sorry, but that’s absolutely what I see in Trump and Melania, with their 24-year age difference), this week we see a former president celebrating his woman’s career and looking pretty sharp to boot. We see dozens of others saluting her on the stage, saying there’s no one who has more experience or is better prepared for the presidency. Sorry Bill. Even you.
When Hillary was 15, she wanted to be an astronaut and she was told no on account of her gender. It cannot be overstated the subtle profound value of us finally seeing a woman in the driver’s seat of our country. Many other countries have or have had female presidents (Germany, Chile, Iceland, Brazil, Argentina). The US has been a powerful force for women’s equality but we also have vast amounts of sexism left in our country. The sexism gets exposed all the time with Hillary showing us how people react to a female candidacy (there are even plenty of “liberal” people calling her a “dog” and other dehumanizing terms on social media). Some of the media heralding the historic nomination of a woman president didn’t even feature a photo of Hillary, they featured Bill. That’s how uncomfortable people still are with a woman being in power.
Hillary’s presidency is a powerful show that women are equal. I don’t think we will even fully feel that until well after she is elected. How profound and sweet that is to really say and believe in a world that sort of believes it but indicates otherwise all the time.
#imwithher. Hope you’ll join us.
PPPS My younger brother Dan Cagen wrote this on Facebook today, and I thought it was spot-on, so I will add this here:
“Obama ended his speech with a ‘Yes, We Can,’ his slogan from 2008. It was a message of hope and change and that better days are ahead of us if we all work together towards our goals. I’ve been deeply troubled over the last week since watching Trump’s RNC speech—part of me wishes I hadn’t subjected myself to that—and the vision of America he sees. Trump sees an America where you will be killed and your murderer will be a non-white person. It’s hard for me to reconcile that so many people in this country are supporting someone who feels that way. Hearing Obama bring back ‘Yes, We Can,’ and seeing the response in Philadelphia, was a reminder that there are still plenty who have hope and want a better future.”
Saying goodbye to Martha, her soulful scratches and all
I was driving back from the smog check, and I felt myself fighting just the slightest tears. I felt that lump in my throat, knowing, yes, I have reached the point of no return. I’m paying $50 for a smog check and that means this is it, after much resistance, I am selling Martha, my 2007 Toyota Corolla, a solid presence in my life since 2008 when I bought her pre-owned.
Martha. Yes, she has a name. Do all owners give their cars names, like they give their pets names? Do all car owners get so attached to their cars? I don’t have a pet, or a child, but I named my car. Why would I be crying for 2,800 pounds of metal, steel, and plastic? My friend Liz told me I should write about Martha because I way I talk about her, like she is a person in my life. So I am.
First, some basic facts: who is Martha and why am I getting rid of her? Martha was my first car. I bought Martha when I was 34, relatively old to buy a first. I bought Martha during a period of big change in my life, when I went from writer to Silicon Valley product manager. I made more money and needed a car. Having a car felt like a luxury, a big step up the economic ladder. The name Martha just came to me. I wanted a sturdy, reliable car and Martha felt like a sturdy, reliable name.
Since then my life changed. I left Silicon Valley and I’ve spent three of the last eight years in South America writing, coaching/consulting, and dancing tango. I’ve held on to Martha for all these years, having friends drive her paying the insurance while I’m away, because I loved having Martha to come home to when I would be back in the Bay Area, sometimes as long as a year and a half. Recently I committed to living in Argentina to write a second draft of my memoir. Rationally it doesn’t make sense anymore to keep paying the registration and maintenance. It’s time to let go.
Even so, there is clinging to the past. To Martha! We say change is good but change is also hard. If we are honest, we are to some degree ambivalent about most things. Most things have good and bad in them. Change means giving up some things while you gain others. There’s the job you hate but the paycheck you love. The spouse you love and the spouse you can’t live with. There is a grieving process for most changes whether it’s leaving a place, a job, a person, or an object. Objects too have so many memories and emotions attached to them.
Liz told me Martha was replaceable, “She’s a white Corolla. You can get another white Corolla when you come back. It’s not an uncommon car.” I say, “No, those other cars won’t have Martha’s bumps and scratches. Those particularities.” Liz says, “We can dent the new car with golf balls and scratch it to replicate the damage.” I laugh, “OK, we can do that.”
There is soul in the history of an object, in the meanings we give our things over the years. The history is in those imperfections. I put the dent on the car in the first year when I was clumsy parking in a tight garage in San Francisco. At first I was ashamed that I had messed up my car so quickly. Then I decided the dents and scratches made my car unique. I could recognize her in a parking lot easily. That was an important revelation that made me feel better about my own dents and scratches.
I keep thinking of Liz’s implicit question, why does this car mean so much to me? She was more than a car to me. Martha and I had a long-term relationship of eight years, and a long-distance relationship for three of those years. For three of those years I was in South America. She was okay with me leaving and coming back, she never broke down when I went away. The car was an anchor. It’s the mobility, the status, but also the constancy: Perhaps Martha was one of my rocks. She gave me the freedom to roam and always welcomed me back with open arms.
When it finally came time to post the ad, and start showing Martha to buyers, I was nervous to show her. What if people felt different about her than I did? I posted realistic photos on Craigslist and got 30 emails, I showed her to four people and two out of four her wanted her. There’s nothing like having your car be wanted.
The lucky buyer was Jan, a mom buying the car for her twentysomething son Joaquin. I met Jan and Joaquin on a Friday afternoon to complete the transaction. It was time to hand over the keys.
I told Joaquin, “The car is special, so take good care of her. She is very soulful and she has a lot of care-taking qualities. Her name is Martha.” His eyes widened either impressed or freaked out but his mom Jan seemed taken with the name. “Like George and Martha Washington,” she said, as if this had some meaning to them. Yes.
We walked outside and I passed the key to Joaquin, the official handoff. I said to Jan, “I feel like I’m giving away my baby.”
She said, “We would call Family Services if you were selling your baby for $6600.”
I felt a little embarrassed and said, “I know, but it’s emotional.”
She said, “I know what you mean. When I sold my car I felt choked up too.”
So I walked home four blocks, saying goodbye to Martha, and also, hello to an unknown future. Having grieved already I felt more ready for the new chapter, come what may, whether that includes a future car or not. I felt lighter for having been courageous enough to let go. I felt free.
Goodbye to All that is a nod to Joan Didion’s landmark 1967 essay about leaving New York, “Goodbye to All That.”
I have been bringing together quirky women for TANGO ADVENTURES in Buenos AIres. Now that I have committed to being here in Buenos AIres for the next year we will be offering this 7-day immersive course more often. We may even do some co-ed adventures soon too.
The next Tango Adventure is August 13-20.
For anyone who has questions/curiosities about tango in Buenos Aires, our immersive tango-personal growth-dance retreat-quirkyalone experience, or what this has to do with being single or quirkytogether (doesn’t it take two to tango?) . . .
My assistant Colleen Fitzgerald and I will host a LIVE group #TangoAdventurechat next Thursday, May 19 at 5 pm PT/ 8 P pm ET.
There was no doubt in my mind that I would see the movie Brooklyn and in the theater as soon as it came out last fall. You know when a movie comes out and it speaks to you to your core, or to some question you have shivering in your soul, you know that you will plunk down $10 to see the movie. So it was with Brooklyn for me.
A tale of a woman torn between two countries, Brooklyn is the story of a small-town Irish girl who comes to New York City from Ireland in the ’50s and falls for a young Italian plumber. She doesn’t come to New York because of famine or oppression. She comes to escape the narrowness of her small-town upbringing and the limited opportunities she finds at home. On a trip back home she feels a strong pull back to Ireland, to her family, roots, and a new Irish love interest. The movie, based on the novel by Colm Toibn, nominated for a Best Picture Oscar, is shimmering, subtle and yet emotionally exquisite.
When I walked out of the movie theater, dazed and happy in the movie’s glow, for the movie is a story of one woman’s pursuit of happiness, I distinctly remember seeing the words “achieving home” together in one of the movie reviews about the film.
Now I Google, looking for those words “achieving home” in the movie reviews to retrace my steps to the idea of achieving home but I do not find them.
The word combination “achieving home” made an impact on me even if I imagined them—the idea that home is an achievement rang as absolutely true. If you are a wanderer, a searcher, like me or the main character of Brooklyn Eilis Lacey, home is an achievement because it takes guts and time to choose, to try different places and know that each promised future dangling based on a place has its pros and cons, its dreams and its downsides, and commitment to roots is itself an achievement. I knew that I was struggling to achieve home myself, and perhaps, always will be to some extent.
I have “achieved home” in the last few weeks. After five years of splitting my time between the Bay Area and Buenos Aires, Argentina, I have decided to make Buenos Aires my primary place for the next 12 months at least, enough time to make progress on my book and grow the Tango Adventure while continuing to offer my coaching services.
The decision came with waves: first the doubt that lived with me for years about what to do, growing finally after enough consideration and research of options to finally a solid decision that I could actually feel as true in my body (when things actually feel settled in my body I know they are true than when they are just mental). Then came euphoria at having committed, then some remorse, knowing Buenos Aires is not perfect and there are things that I miss out on by being away from the Bay Area.
And yet, the decision feels excellent to announce. I am achieving home, in a place and perhaps most of all in my ability to commit to myself, to my intuition, to my belief in my dreams.
With this achievement of home, I cannot help but point out a difference in my story. The movie’s main character chooses between places but ultimately she is choosing between men who want to marry her. It is not that I do not want to marry, or be in love, but in my choice, I am not rushing into the arms of a man who will be my husband. I may very well meet him here in the next year, but it is something else entirely to be a woman choosing destiny based holistically on what makes you happy, what makes you come alive, and not because there is a man at the other end of the airplane travel to welcome you.
This fear has been a demon all along, the fear that if I choose my most alive life this is somehow “impractical” and will negate the possibility of love and marriage. I know this sounds “crazy” coming from the author of Quirkyalone who waves the flag for everyone who chooses to be single rather than settle, but I tell you the truth. It’s gotten too boring for me to not tell the truth. For a whole year after breaking up with a boyfriend in the Bay Area the demon of practicality told me that it was statistically more likely I would find my partner there, even when I felt that being in California was not the right choice for me now.
This choice of home is an extra achievement because I do it as a woman alone. With the hope that making the best decision for me brings the best possible future. I do it knowing that it is my responsibility, my risk, that no one can guarantee anything but this was the best choice for me. So I decide happily too. And I feel the achievement of home, most of all, within myself.
Here is a brave, wonderful essay that just appeared in the Washington Post Solo-ish column about the challenges of being quirkyalone . . . looking for quirkytogether.
Melissa Banigan writes about the challenges of being an independent woman looking for a relationship with a man who welcomes this independence and would also state his own needs so they can craft quirkytogether together. Love seeing this dialogue in the press as it’s so often happening in our modern hearts.
“Again, I got accused of being scared of commitment despite having been very committed to trying to make things work. We both put a lot of time and energy into our relationship. The problem was that he had a more traditional idea of how to be in a partnership, while I’m an independent quirkyalone.
Interestingly enough, 85 percent of people who come out of failed marriages cite “lack of commitment” as the reason for their divorce. Perhaps those who’ve been through a divorce could take a lesson or two from quirkyalones and learn how to better balance the independent self with the togetherness of being in a couple. In my view, real commitment is about stating and respecting each other’s needs.
Next time I get into a relationship, I’ll need a partner who embraces my strength. “Some men might feel threatened by quirkyalone women because they are not as interested in orienting their lives entirely around a man,” Cagen says, “and other men are turned on by it because they want to be with a strong woman who brings her full self to the relationship.”
While I haven’t yet found “The One,” at least I’m not trapped with Mr. Wrong. I’d prefer to meet another independent soul, so that we can explore what it means to be quirkytogether.”
If this resonates, I want you to know this is one of the things I focus on with one-on-one coaching clients. I love working with my women clients–and a few cool men–to create your vision of what you really want, dismantle limiting beliefs and build skills for speaking your truth and negotiation so you can create the intimacy and closeness you want while also honoring needs for independence and autonomy. This is the quirkyalone/quirkytogether path and it is possible. I just got an amazing email from a former client who just married a man two years after we completed our work together, and they are maintaining their own homes. Anything is possible.
A few weeks ago I told you I was in the process of facing down my fears to tell my first live story at a Moth-like event, That Really Happened???, in Berkeley, Calif.
For your listening pleasure this weekend, here’s a podcast recording of the live 10-minute story.
This story tells the tale of a turning point during my year of solo travel in South America In 2010. I was traveling alone looking for something: a man, a passion, a hobby, I didn’t know what. Something to bring happiness to my life in a continued way back at home.
That August in Cali, Colombia, I fell for Jean-Louis, a French guy with a great music collection. After we spent a night together I thought he might be that thing I was looking for–a French boyfriend in Colombia, great!–but he wasn’t interested in a relationship so I was feeling low.
While I was nursing my disappointment, a woman I had never met before invited me out to a “tango club”–how odd, a tango club in the world capital of salsa?! I said yes, and the rest is history, leading to the first tangasm a few weeks later and a new kind of love affair with its own highs and lows. Tango was actually the thing I found along with a whole new approach to happiness, self-awareness and personal power through pleasure and sensuality (which is what I’m chronicling in my new book-in-progress Wet so you can learn about this too.)
Sasha Cagen is the author of the cult favorite Quirkyalone: A Manifesto for Uncompromising Romantics and To-Do List: From Buying Milk to Finding a Soul Mate, What Our Lists Reveal About Us. In her coaching practice, Sasha helps women get clear on what they want and go for it. A memoirist and a tanguera, she's passionate about using writing, storytelling and tango in her transformative work with women.
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