History remembers Socrates as a pillar of philosophical thought — the man who asked questions about life that cracked open truths. But standing just beyond the spotlight was Aspasia of Miletus. A foreign-born intellectual, conversationalist, and rhetorical force, she is believed to have shaped minds like Pericles and, perhaps, even Socrates himself, per Plato. Yet, her story is barely a whisper in the corridors of history.

Aspasia hosted gatherings of thinkers and leaders — spaces where ideas ignited. But because she was a woman and a metic, a Greek word for resident foreigner, not born in Athens, and treated as an outsider.  Her influence was minimized, and her legacy was shadowed. Still, Aspasia reminds us that women have always been behind even the most celebrated men — thinking, shaping, guiding, and holding space. Women like Mary Wollstonecraft, Virginia Woolf, Clarissa Pinkola Estés, and Anne Morrow Lindbergh have become guideposts for me, reminding me that being different in a world steeped in masculine energy is not only acceptable — it’s essential!

That truth fueled my desire to launch Living Legacies, a salon series born over a decade ago in Ventura County. The premise was simple: bring one woman — a local trailblazer, artist, leader, healer, or elder — into my home. Let her tell her story. Invite other women to gather, listen, and engage. What unfolded was always unexpected, always unforgettable.

One evening, we were graced with Clara Knopfler, a Holocaust survivor. Clara, at 92 years young, shared the profound story of how she and her mother endured the horrors of the camps together. But amid the bleakness, she told us about her 17th birthday — how her mother had secretly saved scraps of bread, bit by bit, over time, and used them to create a birthday cake. In a world that had stripped them of everything, her mother gave Clara that moment of celebration — a radical act of love and an eternal symbol of a mother’s devotion.

Another night, we welcomed Mary Leavens Schwabauer — a woman many in the community regarded as a pioneer, an icon, and a pillar of strength. But that evening, Mary made it clear: she had not come to be canonized. She came to be real. This Living Legacy didn’t want to play the role of Mother Superior or the flawless sage. She wanted to share honestly and allow us to glean, as she said, “tidbits or a modicum of wisdom” from her lived experiences. And we did — not through perfection, but through presence.

These stories — quiet and seismic all at once — are why S.H.E. Share Heal Empower was born. What began in my living room, now lives on – in printed books and digital collections traveling worldwide. These are collected journeys and stories of women — from Michigan to Mumbai— whose voices might never fill history books but whose truths are no less worthy.

And through the S.H.E. Foundation, we transform stories into action — supporting women’s safety, creativity, education, and possibility.

We cannot change the past but must challenge how it is remembered. We can lift the legacies of the Aspasias, the Claras, the Marys, the Khorsheds, and the Alvetinas. We can create new rooms where voices are heard — not as footnotes but as foundations.

Reflecting on the stories I’ve held — in my home, heart, and pages of S.H.E. — I see myself in every woman. I see the parts of me that have questioned, grieved, risen, and roared. What I embody as a woman — strength, softness, truth-telling, resilience — lives within all women.

Every story matters. And not just the polished or triumphant ones but also the sensitive, complicated, and quietly courageous ones.

We must honor our journeys in all forms — raw with the human complexity of a woman’s experience — my own and others. Each of us has endured unimaginable hardship, loneliness, and loss in different stages of life. Still, our quest, strength, and wisdom — like Aspasia’s — continue to resonate and transcend time, even if our names are not written in the history books.