Meet Samantha, a serial hobbyist turned chocolatier who's no stranger to diving headfirst into new passions. From pursuing wine knowledge to mastering the delicate art of tempering chocolate, Samantha's journey has been marked by determination and a thirst for excellence. However, her path took an unexpected turn when she received a diagnosis of stage 2 breast cancer. Suddenly faced with the daunting challenges of balancing her budding chocolate business, motherhood, and her health, Samantha found herself in a whirlwind of emotions. Yet, amidst the chaos, she discovered a newfound strength and resilience, refusing to let cancer define her story. In this candid interview, Samantha shares her remarkable journey of triumph over adversity, proving that even in the face of life's greatest challenges, there's always room for hope, passion, and a whole lot of chocolate.
As a serial hobbyist, you've explored various interests before settling on chocolate making. How did your previous experiences with different hobbies influence your approach to starting a chocolate business?
One of the morals of being a serial hobbyist is to take on the idea that you don’t need to be professional or classically trained to seriously pursue a skill, hobby, or interest. There are so many resources not only to help introduce yourself to a topic, but troubleshoot when you hit the sobering realization that you’re not immediately good at it.
I think many amateurs or hobbyists often fall into the trap of comparing themselves to those who are experts or professionals in the field. Going into any interest or hobby as an amateur requires a drive that is shaped only by your lifestyle and resources, in addition to a tenacity that’s unshaken by failure or imperfection when compared to those with more ideal circumstances and formal training. A formal education always felt more glamorous and legitimate than buying second-hand books and watching youtube videos, and unfortunately there were many times where I would find myself comparing my work to others and labeling it embarrassing or a failure.
I was unprepared for how much patience chocolate would require of me compared to my other hobbies which were normally often satisfied by a one-day wine class or a 10-minute youtube video about Ford Mustangs. Chocolate was different.
Years ago, I was watching a Food Network baking challenge when I saw someone start “tempering” chocolate. Chocolate always seemed like the untouchable product of machines and corporations that rhyme with Mestlé; something to be picked out with haste when checking out of a grocery store and unwrapped with similar haste on the way back to the car. Watching someone effortlessly create beautiful chocolate pieces with their hands--chocolate to be displayed and admired first then savored only second--felt virtuous, fun, and a little bit exclusive.
Actually learning the process of making chocolate kinda sucked. I realized that to make this admirable, savorable, exclusive chocolate, I was going to get very frustrated. The process of tempering is tedious, delicate, and way too easy to screw up over and over; and real chocolate is expensive which makes those screw-ups just a little bit more annoying. Fortunately I always had a very happy chocolate-covered baby who was eager to hide the evidence of my expensive mistakes. My learning process was long, expensive, and annoying but when I finally got it right it all felt worth it. The awe I had for someone else in a baking championship from 2017 was what I finally had for myself and something that I could create now with my own hands.
I learned a skill on my own: a skill that is not easy and often deferred to those who went to a fancy shmancy school for it. Don’t give up, and remember that starting on the sidelines does not delegitimize your journey no matter how much harder and longer it feels, because at the end of the day though this pursuit of an interest might not define you, it helps define what you’re made of.
Balancing entrepreneurship with motherhood is challenging enough, let alone adding a cancer diagnosis to the mix. How did you manage to stay focused and motivated during such a tumultuous time?
I think the key to staying motivated is giving yourself the time you need to grieve and adjust to this new life that now has cancer in it. Take your unadulterated time to mourn the life you once had, but at the end of the day don’t ever let go of it completely. This sorrow--as suffocating as it feels--is temporary, and once you find your footing, the ones and things you love the most are what’s going to pull you out.
Looking for the same motivation to keep fighting for what I wanted prior to my diagnosis started feeling aimless because I didn’t know how to balance who I was anymore with the same quirks, passions, and hobbies I used to be so proud of, especially in the wake of possibly leaving everything behind so soon.
I started to feel dread whenever someone would hear about my breast cancer because it was always met with an “I'm so sorry,” “you’re too young,” or “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” Though kind, It always made me feel so small; like everything I am was eclipsed by the word cancer and was met with nothing but questions about it. I didn’t want to be just another cancer victim because that’s all I was starting to feel like. So I went full force into my passion--making things--and didn’t let treatment pull the rug from underneath it like most people thought would happen. I didn’t just want to rewrite my current narrative, I wanted to shape the story my son hears when I’m gone. I wasn’t just a breast cancer victim: I was a chocolatier, I was an entrepreneur, I was creative, I was hardworking, I was persistent and I made something enduring--and I made it for him.
Your story is one of resilience and determination. Can you share a specific moment or experience that tested your resolve the most, and how did you overcome it?
A moment that tested my resolve the most was learning how high my chance of recurrence was. That despite a double mastectomy, chemotherapy, radiation, and years of hormone therapy, I would always be at risk of not only it coming back, but it coming back much worse and there was no cure for it
Being diagnosed with an invasive cancer is essentially the dawn of a very intense and emotional transition from once indifferently having the security of your health to the overwhelming likelihood that you’re not going to grow old with your husband nor see your children grow up. This transitionary period is exhausting, it feels hard to breathe and you become desperate for any reassurance that everything is gonna be okay despite never finding it no matter how hard you look. So how did I find my way out? When was I able to breathe again? When I stopped looking. I stopped looking for answers about my mortality rate and just started taking in the life and opportunities around me. Nobody is promised a long life, but no matter the status of their health, we all have the hope that we are. I was letting cancer take my hope away from me and I could feel other parts of me taken with it--so I stopped. It’s the effect of this transition that gives you the reminder that your life is what you make of it. It is a gesture to point you in the right direction: make the absolute most of your time, energy, and focus--one breath at a time.
What role did your support network play in helping you navigate the ups and downs of your journey, both in business and health?
I always thought that autonomy and independence was a badge of honor to be worn very stubbornly, both professionally and personally. I was previously a travel nurse with no real place to call home, and everything that I had fit in my car and could easily be packed up by myself in an afternoon if need be. I stopped in Salem, Massachusetts as a part of a temporary assignment but ultimately met the very awkward and good-hearted man that led me to extend my contract there--we were married a couple years later.
Up until meeting my husband, all my interests, career choices, and problems were all something I kept private. However, both cancer and chocolate required me to be more public than I was accustomed. Word of my new diagnosis spread like wildfire around the same time I was learning how to ignite a social media presence for my company despite barely knowing how to have one for myself.
Initially, I thought I was going to go into cancer and business with an exaggerated lone-wolf bravado, but I was very touched and disarmed watching the loved ones around me assert this support network I never had the opportunity to truly embrace. I watched these friends and family advocate and fortify around me, my health and all my goals, and it gave me a sense of security that I didn't know how much I needed.
My husband had to care for our toddler alone when surgery and chemotherapy left me debilitated, but it never stopped him from holding me every night while I cried nor always cheering me on with every chocolate I made. My mother-in-law, who took me to every oncologist appointment and was the most boastful about my chocolate ambitions, showed me how much higher I could hold my head with a proud mom there to hold my hand. My friends helped me follow through with my plans to put together a chocolate pop-up weeks after my double mastectomy all while making sure my fridge at home was always stocked for my family.
My support network made this intense and emotional experience so empowering as opposed to the very lonely and paralyzing trial it could have been if I had done it alone. I am thankful for them never letting me entertain the idea of giving up at a time when I doubted myself the most. Thank you.
Your story embodies the power of turning adversity into opportunity. How do you maintain a positive outlook and continue moving forward, even in the face of significant challenges?
The word “hope” gets thrown around a lot in the world of cancer. My mother is a breast cancer survivor so I have a ton of pink shirts that have the word “hope” scrawled on them that I mostly use as sleep shirts. The word “hope” never meant much to me: it felt like a filler word to help induce a sentimental touch to any thing or expression. I guess I was lucky at the time, because ultimately, you never truly grasp what hope is until it’s all you have left.
Hope is not blind positivity, it is the elusive and intricate wisdom of knowing who you want to be, the future you want and still fighting for it even when it’s not promised to you. I might be sick and I might be an amateur, but I’d rather look ahead with hope that one day I might not be anymore. So until then the only way past this challenging time is to have the grit to push through and the hope that it’s all going to be okay in the end.
As someone who has experienced the highs of entrepreneurial success and the lows of a serious illness, what advice do you have for others who may be struggling to find purpose or direction in their own lives?
The week leading up to my diagnosis, I was waiting on the results of my biopsies with an unrelenting anxiety while constantly refreshing my patient portal test results section over and over. I needed a distraction for both my mind and body, so I put my energy--as much as i could--towards my chocolate business. One day I had met with a local jeweler for the first time because she was interested in selling my chocolate after seeing it on social media. I was excited in that meeting because it felt like this passion I had grown was growing on the people around me and I was close to reaching a dream I didn't know I had been chasing. After the meeting, I reached into my pocket to call my husband, but instead my phone rang first--my biopsy results had come back.
I was heartbroken and distraught. I raced home and fell into my husband’s arms and we sobbed while my toddler looked on before he began to cry as well. I was overcome with this feeling of drowning; I felt a loss not just for myself, but the future one my son and husband would have and there was nothing I could do about it. My son wasn’t going to have a mom, my husband was gonna be alone, and I’d be nothing but a memory as their lives went on without me. Everything around me felt melted and shapeless and I didn't know how to look ahead, let alone around me. I cried every time I opened my eyes. I felt scared, helpless, and meaningless. My hands googled survival rates, recurrence rates, long-term effects of chemotherapy, etc. My hands that I had become so proud of were making things so much worse, so I decided to just keep them busy. And when my hands were busy, my mind followed.
I imagined the last things that gave my life form: my family and my little chocolate company. When people learned of my cancer, they expected everything to melt away just the way it exactly had done--”maybe next year,” “just focus on your health,” or “you won't be able to handle it.” All justifiable comments. I was still drowning but I didn't want to anymore so instead I chose to find something to grab on to: when my son asks about his mom one day, how do I want my story to go?
So my advice for those who are struggling to find purpose, remember that whatever source of fear and heartbreak you might be facing now or later, it will always just be a small piece of your larger story. So don’t let it stop you from crafting a great one.
Can you share any future goals or aspirations you have for yourself, both personally and professionally, in light of everything you've been through?
Personally, in the state I’m in right now, I’d say my biggest aspiration is to have a beautiful long life with my family. But if that turns out to be not possible, I’d love to make beautiful long memories for my family to have of me. There will be a day when my son needs solace or advice that only a mother could provide, and if I’m not there, I want his memory of me to be strong enough to provide it in my stead.
Professionally, when I imagine this chocolate business I’d like to imagine it ending up as a little chocolate shop. I love the idea of creating a space that people can enjoy that is essentially an extension of myself, my ideas, and my little kitchen where it all started.
How do you define success now, and has your definition evolved throughout your journey?
Success is kind of a controversial word to me because it means something different to so many people and that alone can lead to confusion and unhappiness.
As a nurse, I thought it was a success when I became a charge nurse, got certifications, and got accepted to a doctorate program. However during my first semester of graduate school, I had this underwhelming feeling that I was going through the motions of what I needed to do to be “successful” but I wasn’t actually happy with what I was doing or pursuing.
Instead I went through a few years of entertaining more interests outside of my nursing career, and instead of reading nursing journals I found myself drawn to reading about food, baking, and chocolate. I was often caught in a daydream about what recipe I would make next, how I would do it differently, and how I could make it even better. Working with chocolate started like any other day-dream but grew from there into a passion I loved and deepened into a purpose and business aspiration.
So I define success as finding something I authentically love to do and growing a little company for the sake of enabling the same ambitious day-dreams that brought me to this craft in the first place.
Finally, what message do you hope readers will take away from your story, and what legacy do you aspire to leave behind?
Growing a small business as a mom with stage II breast cancer I think requires a level of fortitude and confidence and honestly I don’t think I really have much of either. During this whole journey, I often felt small and insecure, but I think what got me through it was that I was determined not to act small or insecure--and that’s the best I could do. The path I found myself on is sown with tears, frustration, and wasted materials but honestly so is everyone’s road to accomplish something big. As shaken as I was, I took solace in the women who have done it before me. Your fight and your accomplishments matter; you are an inspiration to those who need it most.
The message I want my readers to take away is that as overwhelming and uncharted as your goals are, try to be brave. As isolating as it feels to be different or do something different, there are resources and support that will rally behind you when you’re ready. You got this.
Instagram is @Moonstruck_Sugar_Co
Website is MoonstruckSugar.Com
This is so beautiful and heartfelt, Sam. Thank you so much for sharing your most intimate struggles, successes and your life. We are all rooting for you.