In Santiago del Estero, under this title, a unique type of event took its first steps, starting with just a couple of tables and a very tempting invitation, at least for the dozens and subsequently hundreds of women who joined in each night as the word spread.
Although initially these were small parties that were not exclusively for women, it was women who took up the gauntlet. In less than six months, attendance at Terapia de Despecho in the city was booming. Today you need to book well in advance to get a place, and it has begun to spread to other provinces in Argentina. Women of all ages and walks of life invite others to go along, or they go themselves and hilariously recount their experiences. What is it all about, and what is the secret to its success?
The reservation includes a place at a table with friends where there is a microphone, almost like a toy, that anyone can pick up. In the roomy hall, the music of yesterday and today, dedicated to love and, above all, heartbreak and spite, plays loudly from a playlist of songs that have become or will become classics in this genre. Just look at their IG account to recognize the songs that are always relevant and urgent, the ones that make some women scream or stand on their chairs.¹
This therapy consists of singing songs with your whole body, with emotion, even with desperation, accompanied by others who dance and sing along from one table to another.
The atmosphere is somewhat dramatic and comical, undoubtedly entertaining: a setting in which nothing seems more urgent than being there, while at the same time provoking laughter among the participants.
On a night dedicated to what else but Valentine's Day, a girl sings her reproach to the embodiment of Cupid himself at the party. Many laugh, but for her it seems like the most serious thing in the world. Once out of character, she will laugh at her own performance, cheered on by her friends at her table and around her. It will be another girl's turn. She will perform a duet that begins with a contrite voice saying, "Friend, my heart is broken," and after a sung conversation, both conclude, "these are the things of love." The whole room joins in on this last verse. They seem like they are going to cry, but the song ends and they laugh out loud, hugging each other. Another song begins. On IG, someone comments, "I didn't want to go to the bathroom so I wouldn't miss a minute of what was happening."
This isn't therapy for spite, but about spite. It's a treatment for what's not working in love, for spite, put into song. It's a possible plan, and for many, it's not to be missed.

^[1] Instagram page Terapia de Despecho, available online: https://www.instagram.com/p/DIpc_kDNT-D/