Turns Out I’m Not a Founder
I'm just a girl with a newsletter and a dream
🥤Grab an ice drink, take a 5-minute break, and enjoy the read. Listen to Glitter by BENEE while you read it.
I needed a label to organize essays that are not Dear Diary and not the Secret Club Post, so I created “The meltdown”. If you read it, comment 🍦 — it’s free and will freshen my day!
If you live in Finland and try finding a job, someone will gently (or not-so-gently) suggest entrepreneurship. The job market here is a nightmare — allegedly as bad as the dating scene (my single friends can confirm that). I tried job-hunting for a bit, got a few interviews, but I’ve mostly been floating in remote-company land since 2021.
Now, let’s say you’re a bit lost career-wise, maybe burned out, maybe bored. You start thinking: “Hmm, maybe I’ll start something of my own?” And bam, you’re in an entrepreneurship program. There are many, and they’re easy to get into and genuinely great for networking. You’ll learn a lot, and people will hype you up, tell you you’re the next Facebook (I’ve actually heard that). At first, it was exciting. I felt like there was this shiny glow around, saying you’re running your own thing. Be aware.
I get the vibe! What if you become the next billionaire? Maybe you’re building the next Wolt. Or perhaps you’re creating a cafe. In both cases, unless you’re fully funded, it means you’re spending your own money, your evenings, your nervous system — all in the name of a dream that will be reshaped when reality hits and asks for a big bite.
I’m not a pessimist by any means, but ideas are perfect because they can’t fail. So, whether it’s your main hustle or a side one, it’s gutsy, at least. Mad respect.
It took me a while to consider Secret Club as a business, but by the end of my first entrepreneurship program, I was pitching the Secret Club as a community. On the second program, I started imagining it as a tech company (don’t laugh!). I envisioned a cozy digital space for us, with a charming membership that everyone would happily pay for because it delivered real value. I sketched mockups, explored monetization models, and crafted a creative business plan.
Need to say that this second program is melted in the Finnish tech startup environment. They are focused on scaling fast, innovation, funding, VCs, and massive growth. People repeat the word “startup” as it manifests money and success, but the truth is: most businesses are not startups. Some things are meant to grow slowly. Deeply. Quietly. Like roots, not rockets.
I almost had another burnout — it was obvious I wasn’t cut out for it. I was wearing a girlboss jacket that looks fabulous on the hanger, but the second you put it on, it itches like hell and ruins your vibe. I felt like a fraud pretending to catch up, but every time it seemed to be working, I would panic.
You need a lot of self-knowledge to have your own business, and it became crystal clear that I’d rather work for somebody else if I had to do something I’m not passionate about. If you’re building something you don’t love, just for the money, then you better really love (or seriously need) that money. Oh, speaking of it, it’s worth mentioning I had a session about money with a mentor that made me repeat things like “MONEY LOVES ME” — I felt cringe, but it also unfolded an avoidant relationship I had with finances. Still trying to heal it.
If you watched me as a TV show, you’d see a woman repeatedly jumping from one give-up-it-all moment to another, instead of being creative, writing, designing tote bags, and tarot cards. As a viewer, you’d cheer the character to follow her dreams and free herself, because when she’s creating, the world sparkles, she’s bright, she’s happy, and fulfilled.
After many conversations with friends and mentors, therapy sessions, and tarot spreads, of course, I finally admit I don’t want to build a startup and don’t want to be a CEO. Surprisingly, it all clicked during a one-on-one session with a software specialist. A French guy whom I’ll be forever grateful to.
I was walking him through everything we were doing with Secret Club, laying out all the moving pieces. And then he just looked at me and said, super direct, no fluff: “You don’t need to build an app. You’re already solving the business problems with your content creation and the platforms you have. ”
My head exploded.
It was like a breeze that said, “You’re safe now, child”.
Secret Club isn’t a tech product, it’s just a newsletter.
It’s a living, creative, feminist manifesto.
I exhaled so hard I nearly levitated.
I’m no CEO!!!!
I’m a rebel, a creator. A slightly chaotic writer with docs full of feelings and a soft spot for women trying to live deliciously in a world that wants them small.
Flirting with being an entrepreneur is dazzling, but the journey is not a strawberry cake. I almost flipped the table many times, when all I wanted was simple — and right in front of me: writing to inspire women to connect.
There are so many things people won’t tell you at the beginning. If you don’t have experience working on your own, it can mess up your savings badly. I’m 37, and I’ve never had so little money in my adult life (I had a six-figure job in Brazil). If it weren’t for my family’s support, I wouldn’t be doing this. I’d be job-hunting, and if I couldn’t land another remote job, I’d be a frustrated job seeker. Or maybe I’d have to leave Finland? You never know.
I’m still glad I went through the whole journey. But now, I’m going to do what I should’ve done from day one: I’m going to write.
Pretty sure the universe will owe you good karma if you help me get there. Just saying. ✨
NO ONE: SO YOU WILL ACCEPT JUST BEING POOR?
ME: Of course not! I admit I asked myself a thousand times if I am shrinking by not chasing money. My bank account is screaming: “BITCH, WE NEED MONEY”. I told her to chill, because many people are making good money as writers, and eventually we will do too.
I love disobeying the system that wants us isolated, insecure, and constantly trying to fix ourselves. So, I’ll take the risk of deluding myself and believe that other women will help me make this newsletter a sustainable, joyful revolution. Maybe I can even convince you to subscribe instead of spending money trying to patch up invented flaws. 🙃
NO ONE: TELL A BIT ABOUT YOUR PREVIOUS CAREER.
I started working in IT in 2016. When I came to Finland, I was a UX writer, which sounds great until you try finding a job abroad where the writing part makes me almost un-hireable, because of the language. I’m native only in Brazilian Portuguese, and I had no experience working in English. So I pivoted a bit. Shifted into UX/UI design. And since then, I’ve mostly freelanced with international companies (thank you, internet).
NO ONE: WHAT ELSE?
I wanna share this conversation I recently had with my therapist:
Me: I’ve decided to dedicate myself to my writing and to the people who believe in me.
My therapist: That’s great. Now you just need to find someone to host your events.
Me: …Why?
My therapist: So you can focus on your writing.
Me: But isn’t my writing enough? Do you have someone else to check on your patients between sessions? No, you just show up, say brilliant things, and that’s enough.
Oh — and you should’ve seen my therapist’s face! She was shocked (in a good way) and congratulated me for knowing where my value is.
Of course we’ll always have our gatherings in the WhatsApp group: it’s ours, it’s organic, it’s part of who we are. But that’s not what I’m selling anymore.
XOXO,
Tássia
To anyone I accidentally fooled while I was trying to convince myself into wanting a startup: I’m sorry. (Kind of.) But I’ve never felt more successful in my life.
Maybe it’d be easier if I felt like a founder. But I feel more like a feminist writer using words to make women feel happier and seen.
And to save myself and my inner child, as most writers.
Read this last night and then I could not sleep as your words caused my own meltdown🫠
Luckily tomorrow always comes and I found something else to overthink
🍦💖