(Honestly, rude of me.)

Hi. I’m Marissa. And I’ve been out here blogging like we’re already best friends, which, I mean, aspirational, but maybe it’s time I formally introduced myself before we get any deeper into my unsolicited oversharing.

I’m a mom to two amazing teenager daughters who keep me grounded, slightly feral, and permanently low on snacks and sleep. I’ve been married for almost 20 years to a man I’m still wildly obsessed with,(it’s okay, he knows…), which feels like a plot twist in this economy. He’s funny, supportive, and somehow still willing to inspect surgical scars without gagging, cringing, or running, so yes, he’s a keeper.

By day, I sit in a leadership seat in staffing – healthcare and education mostly – which is a glamorous mix of solving impossible hiring puzzles and gently explaining to people that no, you cannot ghost your account manager and still expect a deal. I like data, authenticity, and helping people figure their shit out, usually while I’m trying to figure out my own.

I’m also a photographer. Well…I was. Then COVID showed up like, weel, an unwelcome disease, and just when that disaster started to calm down, breast cancer barged in wearing a tiara and shouting, “It’s my turn!” So yeah, the camera’s been gathering more dust than memories lately, but the eye is still there. And the desire. I’ll get back behind the lens once life stops throwing punches. Or at least pulls the punch back a little.

Speaking of cancer, yes, I had it. Ductal carcinoma to be specific. Just once (one-and-done, thank you very much), but it’s apparently the overachieving type, because I’m still dealing with the endless parade of surgeries required to get back to some kind of functional. It’s like the world’s worst punch card: “Get five surgeries, your sixth one’s still bullshit but at least you’re used to the paperwork by now.”

This blog? It’s where I process all of it: the mess of my days, the healing, the hilarity that yes, this is real life, the rage, the running (slowly), the parenting, the marriage, the grief, the resilience, and the straight-up absurdity of this messy life of mine. You’ll find my own truths wrapped in sarcasm and sass, the (too common) emotional breakdowns with hopefully solid comedic timing, and the occasional reminder that strength doesn’t have to look graceful, or even look like strength at all.

If you’re here for a little (or a lot of) honesty with a generous side snackle of snark, welcome to the party. I’m so glad you’re here, and I promise, no small talk required.