I just finished reading Ever Upward, a non-fiction book written by Justine Brooks Froelker on how she overcame infertility losses to own a child-free life. In full disclosure, Justine and I are friends, and I am mentioned in the book. I purchased Ever Upward to support a friend, but what I got out of it was a whole lot more. Through her writing, Justine made me face my own struggles with infertility, and the accompanying shame, that I had tamped down inside myself.
Justine and I met at Emerging Women Live 2013, waiting for Brene Brown to sign our books. We realized that we were assigned to the same small group dinner led by Erin Weed and made plans to go together. During that dinner, Justine told us her story but in a clinical, matter of fact way. Yet, Erin pushed Justine to be vulnerable, demanding that she tell her story in her own words. With raw emotion, Justine said, "I will own and not just prove." And she has done just that with Ever Upward!
Justine's Story: Due to two major back surgeries in high school, it was not safe for Justine to carry a child. She told herself that she didn't want to be a parent, but with surrogacy, she and her husband Chad were given just that chance. Ever Upward takes us through through their search for a surrogate, Justine's infertility treatments resulting in the retrieval of 3 eggs, and their devastating loss when pregnancy did not result. Justine and Chad also know that adoption is not right for them. Justine speaks openly of the shame and depression she felt and how she emerged into being her own self again and embraced a child-free but child-full life. She tells her story as part of her healing, but also so that other women facing a similar situation will know that they are not alone.
My Story: I have always wanted to be a parent. Yet, I am not. As I waited on the father of my children to arrive in my life, I focused on my career. Year after year slipped away, but I didn't act on my desire because I felt like I still had time and didn't want to be a single parent. And then I met someone special and was ready to begin trying to conceive when I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. Undergoing radioactive iodine treatment required a 1-year pregnancy ban as it could cause serious birth defects. As the ban ended so did my relationship, but the desire to be a mom strengthened. Speaking with my doctor, I remember her words, "I'm sorry Tanya, but it would be unwise to get pregnant. Your health is too delicate." I reached out to an infertility specialist who gave me hope and even lined up a sperm donor. Yet, I didn't go through with it. Having thyroid cancer puts me at greater risk for other endocrine cancers, and as I researched the infertility treatments, I could not be guaranteed that they wouldn't increase that risk further. And then I met Ben. He wants children as much as I do, but he is adamant that my health is more important. I am that dear to him.
Justine's story in Ever Upward resonated with me. I know the longing in my heart to be a mom. I know the shame of being childless in a world full of children. I experience pain when someone asks how many children I have or even worse, being a full-figured woman, when I'm due. Yet, like Justine, I have to own my story and continue to emerge into my own. Thanks for the reminder Justine!
If you are experiencing infertility or know someone who is, please consider reading Ever Upward.
Sunday, November 2, 2014
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Kundalini Yoga & Me
As part of my life shift (aka my healthy mid-life crisis), I decided to first focus on reducing my stress. It wasn't a hard decision since my doctor has been telling me to do this for the past year! She even suggested how to do it - take up Kundalini yoga. And after experiencing a meditation led by Gabrielle Bernstein at Emerging Women Live 2014, I was hooked!
I found a local yoga center that offers Kundalini yoga for beginners and quickly signed up for a class before I could lose my nerve. I know myself -- once I'm enrolled in an activity, I feel obligated to try it! Browsing the website, I noticed the suggestion to wear white clothing for energetic purposes. Huh? I favor black yoga pants and bright shirts. I don't own an all white outfit. I began to worry that I would not fit in! And what if I couldn't do the movements? Would people stare?
Yet, on Sunday night, I rolled out early for the yoga center. As I drove into the parking lot, I could not miss the entrance -- everyone was wearing white Indian garb, complete with turbans. I felt like I was playing the childhood game of "which one of these things isn't like the others?" and the answer was me in my black yoga pants, white top and hot pink shoes! My nervousness being in overdrive, I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and transformed into my alter ego -- brave Tanya who will try anything even if she might fail. I exited the vehicle and entered the yoga studio.
I was met by the instructor, a lanky elderly white gentleman with a long white beard. He looked like a wizard except with a turban, instead of a magician's hat. I introduced myself and signed up for the 30 days for $30 special for new students. Then, I picked out a bright purple yoga mat and entered the classroom with my newfound bravery, only to stop short seeing the dais with pillows for the instructor to sit on and pictures of a yogi surrounded by flowers. I began to wonder if my mother was correct when she told me at age 10 that she worried that I was her child who was most likely to join a cult.
As the other beginners trekked in, I was relieved to see that I was not the only one with a unique sense of style. My wizardly yoga instructor sat crosslegged on his pillows and encouraged us to do the same. My glutes rebelled, but I persevered. Mind over matter, right? As the wizard led us through breathing exercises and chants, I began to feel calmer, more centered, and relaxed. Given my paralyzed vocal cord, I saw that yoga could also help me with increasing my lung capacity.
We gently stretched our arms and legs in different poses, and then the wizard (his nickname in my mind) told us to push ourselves off the ground while sitting crosslegged, only using our hands for leverage. Needless to say, I tried but failed...my butt never achieved lift off!
At one point, we were laying on our backs, breathing deeply in and out, the wizard began to play gong music. My body totally relaxed, and my mind quieted. And then I felt an inexplicable pressure, like that of a hand, pushing down on my right hip. I knew it wasn't anyone in the room causing the sensation, but I also wasn't scared. I'd like to think that I was being given spiritual comfort while I was in a deepened state of awareness. When the gong stopped, the pressure disappeared.
I surpassed my expectations of my first Kundalini yoga class. I showed up and was seen and wasn't afraid to fail. I will be going back, not only because I want to get my money's worth, but because I felt a calmness that I have been lacking in my life recently. I can understand why Elizabeth Gilbert went on her epic journey to an ashram in India. Not that I would do that...or maybe I would. A life shift is occurring after all. But, would I have to wear all white?
I found a local yoga center that offers Kundalini yoga for beginners and quickly signed up for a class before I could lose my nerve. I know myself -- once I'm enrolled in an activity, I feel obligated to try it! Browsing the website, I noticed the suggestion to wear white clothing for energetic purposes. Huh? I favor black yoga pants and bright shirts. I don't own an all white outfit. I began to worry that I would not fit in! And what if I couldn't do the movements? Would people stare?
Yet, on Sunday night, I rolled out early for the yoga center. As I drove into the parking lot, I could not miss the entrance -- everyone was wearing white Indian garb, complete with turbans. I felt like I was playing the childhood game of "which one of these things isn't like the others?" and the answer was me in my black yoga pants, white top and hot pink shoes! My nervousness being in overdrive, I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and transformed into my alter ego -- brave Tanya who will try anything even if she might fail. I exited the vehicle and entered the yoga studio.
I was met by the instructor, a lanky elderly white gentleman with a long white beard. He looked like a wizard except with a turban, instead of a magician's hat. I introduced myself and signed up for the 30 days for $30 special for new students. Then, I picked out a bright purple yoga mat and entered the classroom with my newfound bravery, only to stop short seeing the dais with pillows for the instructor to sit on and pictures of a yogi surrounded by flowers. I began to wonder if my mother was correct when she told me at age 10 that she worried that I was her child who was most likely to join a cult.
As the other beginners trekked in, I was relieved to see that I was not the only one with a unique sense of style. My wizardly yoga instructor sat crosslegged on his pillows and encouraged us to do the same. My glutes rebelled, but I persevered. Mind over matter, right? As the wizard led us through breathing exercises and chants, I began to feel calmer, more centered, and relaxed. Given my paralyzed vocal cord, I saw that yoga could also help me with increasing my lung capacity.
We gently stretched our arms and legs in different poses, and then the wizard (his nickname in my mind) told us to push ourselves off the ground while sitting crosslegged, only using our hands for leverage. Needless to say, I tried but failed...my butt never achieved lift off!
At one point, we were laying on our backs, breathing deeply in and out, the wizard began to play gong music. My body totally relaxed, and my mind quieted. And then I felt an inexplicable pressure, like that of a hand, pushing down on my right hip. I knew it wasn't anyone in the room causing the sensation, but I also wasn't scared. I'd like to think that I was being given spiritual comfort while I was in a deepened state of awareness. When the gong stopped, the pressure disappeared.
I surpassed my expectations of my first Kundalini yoga class. I showed up and was seen and wasn't afraid to fail. I will be going back, not only because I want to get my money's worth, but because I felt a calmness that I have been lacking in my life recently. I can understand why Elizabeth Gilbert went on her epic journey to an ashram in India. Not that I would do that...or maybe I would. A life shift is occurring after all. But, would I have to wear all white?
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Life Shift
I had the pleasure of attending Emerging Women Live 2014 in New York City on October 9-12. It has taken this long for me to process my thoughts because EW is that powerful! According to Wokie Nwabueze, a speaker at EW, communication is the pathway between your soul and the world. For the past 3 months, I've let my communication channel -- this blog -- atrophy. My motherboard got fried in a storm...I went on vacation...work got busy...I experienced a health challenge. I had plenty of excuses, but if I'm being real with myself, I needed time to focus on the inner me because putting my life in a blog is being extremely vulnerable. It left me raw with emotion, and I needed to give myself TLC. Yet, all the while, I still had a deep need to share my story.
EW rejuvenated me. The positive vibes coming from the speakers and participants were crackling in the air! Most powerful to me was when Gabrielle Bernstein led us in a Kundalini yoga meditation. As the chant began, I was bathed in the love and positive energy in the room, and when we finished, everyone was crying. Yes, it was that powerful, and that's why I'm attending my first Kundalini yoga class this evening. And, Arianna Huffington packed a big punch with a simple statement: "However, great your job is, who you are as a person is more magnificent."
After EW ended that Sunday, I walked around Times Square and processed. I sat on the train back to Washington, DC and processed. In the weeks following, I went about my days, all the while still processing. It was like my brain was a giant computer which had important information input into it at EW, and it was going through a logarithm to spit out exactly what I would take away from the conference. And then on Tuesday evening as I was headed home, it hit me -- I need a life shift!
I've spent the past few days thinking how this life shift will occur and what exactly I will do. Simply put, I need to live the vision that I saw during my yoga meditation, pursuing both happiness and spirituality. I need to embrace love and not be afraid of fear. I need to strive for a healthy living. I need to help others. I need to have fun! And last but not least, I need to continue to tell my story in my authentic voice on this blog!
I can guarantee you that my life shift will be messy and funny. It will also be beautiful and life-changing. It is my life!
EW rejuvenated me. The positive vibes coming from the speakers and participants were crackling in the air! Most powerful to me was when Gabrielle Bernstein led us in a Kundalini yoga meditation. As the chant began, I was bathed in the love and positive energy in the room, and when we finished, everyone was crying. Yes, it was that powerful, and that's why I'm attending my first Kundalini yoga class this evening. And, Arianna Huffington packed a big punch with a simple statement: "However, great your job is, who you are as a person is more magnificent."
After EW ended that Sunday, I walked around Times Square and processed. I sat on the train back to Washington, DC and processed. In the weeks following, I went about my days, all the while still processing. It was like my brain was a giant computer which had important information input into it at EW, and it was going through a logarithm to spit out exactly what I would take away from the conference. And then on Tuesday evening as I was headed home, it hit me -- I need a life shift!
I've spent the past few days thinking how this life shift will occur and what exactly I will do. Simply put, I need to live the vision that I saw during my yoga meditation, pursuing both happiness and spirituality. I need to embrace love and not be afraid of fear. I need to strive for a healthy living. I need to help others. I need to have fun! And last but not least, I need to continue to tell my story in my authentic voice on this blog!
I can guarantee you that my life shift will be messy and funny. It will also be beautiful and life-changing. It is my life!
Thursday, July 17, 2014
43 and Fabulous!
Happy Birthday to me! I am 43 and fabulous! I realized this week that I am officially entering the mid-point of my life since I plan to live to between 86-90. So today, I am making a declaration that I’m going to live my life with meaning and enjoy this life that I’ve been given healthily and happily and with the financial means to do so! I am filling myself with love, joy, peace and gratitude! Therefore, in celebration of my birthday, I want to share with you 43 things that I love:
1. Being told that I am in remission at every checkup;
2. The feeling of love overflowing my heart when I look at Ben;
3. Our nightly cuddling ritual where I get 10 minutes of hugging and Ben gets to pretend he doesn’t like it;
4. Ben’s contagious laughter that has me laughing with him;
5. Childhood memories of my parents;
6. Getting advice from my grandmother;
7. Talking to my best friends and knowing that we are always there for each other;
8. Sexual intimacy and the big O, all wrapped in a huge bow;
9. Getting into my writing zone and emerging hours later with no sense of time but with beautiful prose;
10. Watching my nephews grow into men;
11. Going on a travel adventure to a place that I haven’t been before;
12. The serenity that I feel when I swim, listening only to the sounds that the water makes as I glide through it;
13. Becoming so enthralled with a novel that I feel that I’m a part of the story;
14. Kissing, for no two kisses are ever alike;
15. Sitting quietly quilting;
16. Squash pie made by my grandmother;
17. Performing acts of kindness;
18. Being tickled by Ben;
19. The smell of fresh cut grass;
20. Sitting on the beach watching the waves roll in;
21. A cool breeze on a summer day;
22. Sitting outside on a summer night and listening to the sounds of crickets;
23. Getting letters from friends in the mail;
24. Relaxing in a hot bubble bath after a long day;
25. Reading The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton for the millionth time;
26. Listening to Sweet Home Alabama by Lynyrd Skynyrd as it brings back memories of growing up in Alabama;
27. Watching I Love Lucy;
28. Holding a baby and breathing in that new baby smell;
29. Getting a massage;
30. Seeing the sun rise and set;
31. Endorphin rush;
32. Watermelon;
33. The magic of Christmas;
34. Watching snow fall while sitting before a warm fire;
35. The sounds of the neighborhood children’s laughter as they play outside;
36. Developing new friendships and nurturing old ones;
37. Making my dad’s famous oatmeal raisin cookies;
38. The unconditional love of a family pet;
39. Trusting others and being trusted;
40. The soreness I feel after working out, as all my cells seem to be shouting “I’m alive!”;
41. Joy on the face of a child;
42. Being able to give voice to my hopes and dreams; and
43. Simply being myself -- nothing more, nothing less.
1. Being told that I am in remission at every checkup;
2. The feeling of love overflowing my heart when I look at Ben;
3. Our nightly cuddling ritual where I get 10 minutes of hugging and Ben gets to pretend he doesn’t like it;
4. Ben’s contagious laughter that has me laughing with him;
5. Childhood memories of my parents;
6. Getting advice from my grandmother;
7. Talking to my best friends and knowing that we are always there for each other;
8. Sexual intimacy and the big O, all wrapped in a huge bow;
9. Getting into my writing zone and emerging hours later with no sense of time but with beautiful prose;
10. Watching my nephews grow into men;
11. Going on a travel adventure to a place that I haven’t been before;
12. The serenity that I feel when I swim, listening only to the sounds that the water makes as I glide through it;
13. Becoming so enthralled with a novel that I feel that I’m a part of the story;
14. Kissing, for no two kisses are ever alike;
15. Sitting quietly quilting;
16. Squash pie made by my grandmother;
17. Performing acts of kindness;
18. Being tickled by Ben;
19. The smell of fresh cut grass;
20. Sitting on the beach watching the waves roll in;
21. A cool breeze on a summer day;
22. Sitting outside on a summer night and listening to the sounds of crickets;
23. Getting letters from friends in the mail;
24. Relaxing in a hot bubble bath after a long day;
25. Reading The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton for the millionth time;
26. Listening to Sweet Home Alabama by Lynyrd Skynyrd as it brings back memories of growing up in Alabama;
27. Watching I Love Lucy;
28. Holding a baby and breathing in that new baby smell;
29. Getting a massage;
30. Seeing the sun rise and set;
31. Endorphin rush;
32. Watermelon;
33. The magic of Christmas;
34. Watching snow fall while sitting before a warm fire;
35. The sounds of the neighborhood children’s laughter as they play outside;
36. Developing new friendships and nurturing old ones;
37. Making my dad’s famous oatmeal raisin cookies;
38. The unconditional love of a family pet;
39. Trusting others and being trusted;
40. The soreness I feel after working out, as all my cells seem to be shouting “I’m alive!”;
41. Joy on the face of a child;
42. Being able to give voice to my hopes and dreams; and
43. Simply being myself -- nothing more, nothing less.
Sunday, June 29, 2014
BCHS Class of 1989
Last weekend was my 25th high school class reunion – Baldwin County High School Class of
'89. While I wasn't there in person, I was there in spirit with my
former classmates. Looking through all the photos of the reunion
that were posted on Facebook by my classmates this week, I was taken
back to my very first day on the BCHS campus.
I entered BCHS as a freshman the fall
of 1985. I went from a class of around 40 students at my junior high
school to about 400 in my freshman class. My
plan for the first day was to keep a low profile until I got my bearings, but that
didn't happen. I arrived at school with my brother, who was
handsome, an upperclassman, a football player, and one of the most
popular kids on campus. All morning, I had girls introducing
themselves to me and asking if I was Tony's sister. Then, they would
giggle, tell me how cute he was, and ask if he was dating anyone. Seriously!
Surviving my brother's fan club was
easy compared to the reception that I received from some of the
teachers. Yes, on the first day, my high school biology teacher
singled me out in front of the class to let me know that, while I was
the brightest at my junior high school, at best I would fade into mediocrity
in high school. I also got called to the office that day for a
conference between my dad and the Principal over my math class. I had
registered for algebra but was instead placed in basic math. It
resulted in a standoff where the Principal refused to move me, I
refused to do any of the assignments in the class, and my
parents went to the School Board. Two weeks later it was decided
that if I made at least a C on the first algebra test that I could
enter the class. The pressure was on me as the test was the next day
and I didn't have the text book to study. Despite this, I made a B on the
test and was finally placed in the correct class.
Luckily, the groupies soon dissipated.
While I floated among the different social groups, I made a few
strong friendships that lasted through the end of high school. We
would mainly hang out at school and occasionally on the weekends. We
laughed. We argued. We talked about boys. However, my dating life
was practically non-existent – with the exception of my boyfriend
freshman year and a dear male friend who took me to the big school
dances. I was shy and extremely focused on my studies, and I think
that guys were intimidated by me. I also think that they were scared
of my brother. It would be interesting to hear my male classmates
perspective 25 years later; so, speak up please!
Despite my biology teacher's warning, I
excelled academically. I made straight A's, was named Most Likely to
Succeed by my senior classmates, and graduated valedictorian. I was
the first to walk out on the field to proudly receive my diploma, and
despite all the tears, hugs, and promises made that night to friends
that we would keep in touch, our lives took different paths and our
friendships faded. Besides my cousin, I lost touch with everyone in
my graduating class.
And then Facebook came along, and we
began to reconnect. And I love it! I love to read the snippets of
their lives, see pictures of their families, celebrate their
successes, give comfort when needed, and of course, argue about
college football (WAR EAGLE). So, here's to the next reunion and hoping
that I'll be there to hug each and every one of y'all!
Saturday, June 14, 2014
Division of Household Duties
Recently at lunch with some girl
friends, we began to discuss our roles and responsibilities in our
relationships with our partners. They both felt that they had
relationships based on equality, talking about how they divide up the
chores around the house. And then I announced, “Ben and I have an
agreement. I take care of the inside of the house, and he's
responsible for the outside.” There was silence, and then I
strained to fill the void. “I'm from the South. My parents had the
same agreement, and it worked for them.”
I grew up in rural Alabama in the 1970s
and 1980s. My mom was a homemaker. She cooked all our meals, except
one Sunday a month when my dad made breakfast or when he grilled
during the summer. My mom would always rise before my brother and me
to ensure that our breakfast was ready before she woke us up. Until
we were old enough for chores, my mom did it all. She made beds,
swept, mopped, vacuumed, dusted, cleaned bathrooms, washed dishes,
did the laundry, and ironed. She made our house a home. She was my
role model.
As I said, my parents assigned chores
to my brother and me when we were old enough. Kitchen duties were
equally assigned – setting and clearing the table, washing dishes,
and taking out the trash. Then, while my brother helped my dad
outside, I made my brother's bed, cleaned his room, and did his
laundry. And I thought nothing of it – until my freshman year in
college when one of my friends was outraged by my admission. Didn't I
know that we were in the age of equality? Why would I allow myself
to be oppressed? One of the key functions that I identified with
womanhood was devalued in that conversation. I personally did not
feel oppressed but felt guilty that I didn't. Then, I worried that I
was in denial of being oppressed.
Fast forward to today. I am in a
loving relationship with Ben, and we live together as partners. Our
relationship is perfectly imperfect. It is unconventionally
traditional. And it right for us – for him and for me. I know
because we discussed our roles and responsibilities before we moved
in together, and we check in with one another and adjust if
necessary.
What is my role in our relationship? My
role is to be true to who I am. With Ben, the woman that I am is
predominantly a lover, a nurturer, and a jokester. I love to make him
laugh. I derive pleasure from his happiness. It is fulfilling to me
to take care of him in a way that I know he appreciates.
After reading the Five Love
Languages by Dr. Gary Chapman, we realized that Ben's love
language is acts of service. That is, he identifies my love for him
through the things that I do for him. He especially loves it when I
take time to cook a meal from scratch. Honestly, it is one of my
least favorite household tasks, but then I saw it through his eyes.
That is why, last Tuesday evening, I found myself in a basic cooking
class, learning how to julienne vegetables and to properly cut
chicken (at an angle) for a stir fry. And I totally enjoyed myself!
Let me be clear that I am not oppressed, and neither am I in denial. My self-worth is
not determined by what Ben thinks of me and my housecleaning skills.
It is internally derived knowing that I am satisfying an intrinsic
part of my nature – that of a nurturer.
LIFE LESSON: Be true to who you are
when determining your role in a relationship.
Saturday, June 7, 2014
Emerging Woman
Lately, I've been thinking about my
role as a woman – in my relationship with Ben, in the larger
community, and in the world. One thing that I know for sure is that I am an emerging woman! Over the next month, I'll be devoting
blog space to write about my internal discussions on this topic and
what I realized is my truth. But first, I want to discuss the
defining moment that got me to the point of being able to have that
honest discussion with myself.
Last October in Boulder, Colorado, I
experienced a life-changing event – Emerging Women Live! It was
the vision of Chantal Pierrat, a former Peace Corps volunteer, to
bring together women around the globe who want to change the world by
living their own personal truths. I was initially drawn to Emerging
Women because Brene Brown and Elizabeth Gilbert were listed as
keynote speakers. And their talks were fucking amazing! Brene
encouraged us not to engineer our lives to be small but instead to
dare greatly and live our own personal truths. Liz taught us that
ideas find people and that inspiration is always happening. You only
have to clear yourself and be welcoming.
Every session at Emerging Women had me
enthralled, and I learned something new from each one. Tara Mohr taught us how to
recognize a calling and encouraged us to PLAY BIG and be more loyal
to your dreams than your fears. Kristin Wheeler taught us how to
find and live our native genius, while Kristin Neff taught us the
importance of choosing self-compassion over self-esteem. And Sera
Beak fired up our souls!
Emerging Women was way more than just
speeches. It was an atmosphere like none other! Emerging Women was
open...inviting...a safe space to speak our dreams. Emerging Women
was women supporting women, providing encouragement and being caring
and kind. I have never experienced anything like it before in my
life, but I want to emulate it every day!
It was in this safe space that I began
to speak my dream. It began to surface during the Workshop on The
Art & Business of Thought Leadership, led by Erin Weed. Erin helps prepare TED TALK presenters to deliver their message. She led
us through an exercise of delivering our gift to the world by each of
us telling our story, delivering our personal truth, identifying the
universal truth, and summing it all up in one word. My word:
BELIEVE. I met Erin again that night as I was assigned to her
small-group dinner, and we discussed my cancer journey and vocal cord
paralysis, my personal truth and how to get my message out. Spoken
out loud twice in one day, my dream seemed real and tangible. I saw
Erin again the next day, and her words still resonate with me – “Go
out and tell your truth! It's fucking awesome! I would definitely
follow your blog or newsletter!” Her motivation worked because
here I am!
Emerging Women was also about
developing relationships with other attendees. It was bonding with
Justine of http://everupward.org/ while waiting in line to meet
Brene Brown and then hearing her personal truth of life after failed
IVF at the small-group dinner with Erin. It was Sarah's
welcoming smile and instant friendship and how jazzed she was to
speak with her inspiration, Sera Beak. It was opening up, being who
I am, and living my personal truth with all the fabulous women at the conference, and then being honored to share their personal truths as well! It
was awesome!
I can't wait to do it again this
October in New York City! And I hope you join me! If you want to
learn more, go to http://www.emergingwomen.com/.
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