We always see others as more perfect, convinced that we ourselves are lacking in some fundamental way. So we might silently compete with each other, or feel jealous, or intimidated, or insecure around each other because we perceive that they are in possession of the very things we are lacking. 

My first piece of advice, don’t do it.  But if you do it, you better buckle up because romantic relationships in tango are either heaven or hell, not much in between, and hell dominating most of the time.

It took me years to get proficient at it and having talked to hundreds of dancers over the years, I know I am not the only one. Now what do I mean by “learning it?” I consider something learned once I can explain and teach it to someone else. 

“May I offer you some feedback?” The most innocent 6 words you could ever read. But also the most triggering 6 words you might ever hear.

You dance with one person and you feel like every step you make is perfect, you are completely on your axis, everything fits, everything is connected. You think “wow I really know this, I am getting good at this.” You take your next embrace and suddenly you can’t find your balance, every step is precarious and awkward, you keep bumping into your partner and the music isn’t even in your awareness.

Social tango is competitive by nature. But it’s a strange kind of competition. There is no physical prize at the end, there is no certificate of accomplishment or a medal at the end of the milonga. We go in competing for the attention of someone we want to dance with.

Tango is not a straightforward journey with clearly marked signs and directions. We all just jump into the unknown and the unknown takes us where it will, sometimes good sometimes not so good.  But there are certain milestones that everybody hits more or less in the same order.

When was the last time you were REALLY excited about being a woman? I gotta be honest, it’s felt a little bleak in the past few years. With all of the gender inequality issues, discrimination controversy, lack of justice… Not to mention the continuous unearthing of sexual harassment cases by powerful men in every major professional field. It’s felt a little bleak.

“When I started tango I was in my 20s and fit, now I am in my 40s and fat, and I have become invisible…” she said to me when explaining why she was leaving tango. She is not the only one. I have had hundreds of conversations with other women over the years about getting less dances as they age.