Welcome to The Em Dash!

A commitment to stumbling and bumbling. Join me?

Hello everyone! Welcome to The Em Dash.

I’m Marissa, a former full-time solopreneur and a recent breast cancer survivor transitioning out of a life that no longer fits quite right and figuring out where to go from here.

I claimed this space back in 2020, but nearly four years later, with that tingly, nervous-excited energy that comes with doing something new, I’m finally hitting publish on my first post.

Back in the spring, when “Notes” became a feature on Substack, I shared my desire to eventually commit to publishing in this space, inspired by a post by

Cait Flanders

(that has since been archived):

“As I slowly begin to see the light at the end of my breast cancer journey on the horizon (well, the most active part of treatment, anyway), I have been reflecting on just how I will begin again: writing, publishing, and creating.

I’ve had remnants of thoughts around starting a Substack or a blog or coming back to my novel idea (and maybe, someday, reactivating my business?) when I have some semblance of consistent energy again and reading @Cait Flanders words today illuminated a path forward.

Maybe I will find my way forward and rediscover my voice, my dear creativity, through this simple (yet, sometimes not so easy) act of devotion—of choosing to show up in the mess, in the clunkiness, in the awkwardness and hitting publish.

Maybe Substack will be that safe but-not-hidden-away place to step out into the world again. Maybe the place doesn’t matter so much as seeing the value in finding your sea legs again and committing to the stumbling and bumbling.”

And though many months have passed and the journey to get here was a lot windier than I initially imagined, I find myself finally here, at Substack’s doorstep, choosing to cross the threshold into the clunkiness–the stumbling and bumbling.

The fascinating thing is that the stumble and bumble is nothing new for me–or for any of us, really. But there’s something about choosing to do so in a more public fashion and especially after a huge life-altering situation, that feels more significant and exposed. It calls forth all of the insecurities and doubts and questions without the promise of any answers—except that there’s a greater chance you’ll find them if you show up and do it anyway.

I don’t know what I’ll write about, exactly, or if I intend to re-open my business (or start a new one), or how often I’ll post, or any of the things that my recovering perfectionist brain wishes I knew before hitting publish.

But I do know that I won’t regret writing. Or sharing. Or showing up. And I can guarantee that I’ll have a lot more clarity and momentum in a few posts’ time than I would otherwise.

So, here I am, hitting publish on a post that feels incomplete, awkward, and true.

Consider this your invitation to join me as we navigate the changes in our lives and in ourselves with curiosity, creativity, and compassion.

In this space, we will:

• Process, reflect, and heal

• Spark ideas, make connections, collaborate, and play

• Engage, be challenged, learn, and grow

• Honor our self-exploration and self-commitments

• Feel seen and understood in our authentic humanity

I can’t wait to see where this journey takes us, together.

For now, this is a free publication, but you can also support my work by becoming a subscriber for $5/month or $35/year.

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Onward, my friends,

Marissa