Welcome to Shame Sandwich, where Megan feels equal parts shame and glee in sharing hilarious personal thought rants every Friday. Sometimes on shame, sometimes shame infused, and other times, nothing to do with shame. Enjoy responsibly.
Author’s Note: This is very different from my “usual” Shame Sandwich sweary newsletter shit. It was inspired in part by my favorite
Am I me?
Am I me? Or am I a collection of thoughts too fragile to hold?
Am I me? Or am I a collection of memories distorted by pain?
Am I me? Or am I dancing under disillusioned dreams?
Am I me? Or am I a shell of who I used to be?
Am I me? Or am I my mother’s wounds?
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Am I me?
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Am I me? Or am I the trauma baked into the center of my soul?
Am I me? Or am I the fear of rejection that I hide in my smiles?
Am I me? Or am I the broken dreams of my 12-year-old self?
Am I me? Or am I the emptiness that I shove down until it’s in my toenail?
Am I me? Or am I worshiping a god I don’t believe in?
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Am I me?
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Am I me? Or am I the endless agony of not letting myself be seen?
Am I me? Or am I frozen in time when he violated my trust?
Am I me? Or am I on my knees eternally?
Am I me? Or am I playing a part I cannot uphold?
Am I me? Or am I a coward?
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Am I me?
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Am I me? Or am I still gripping the kitchen counter when he told me I had cancer?
Am I me? Or am I led astray by the insidious voices playing tricks in my mind?
Am I me? Or am I what I think nameless faces demand of me?
Am I me? Or am I the moment my childhood ended?
Am I me? Or am I the memories I cannot remember?
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Am I me?
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Am I me? Or am I what’s left after birthing life?
Am I me? Or am I the darkest shadows of my mind?
Am I me? Or am I tortured by thoughts I do not understand?
Am I me? Or am I pinned in place by my inability to choose?
Am I me? Or am I bound eternally to the moment just before I emerge?
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Am I me?
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Am I me? Or am I only the ugly reflection I see in the mirror?
Am I me? Or am I the regret that I taste between my lips?
Am I me? Or am I the shame I carry in my breast?
Am I me? Or am I too afraid to be anything but fear itself?
Am I me? Or am I the accumulation of all my dreams that turned to ash?
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Am I me?
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Am I me? Or am I lost in who I think I should be?
Am I me? Or am I hallucinating on lies I tell myself?
Am I me? Or am I lost to the fatal knife wound of cowardice?
Am I me? Or am I tangled in a web of self-deception?
Am I me? Or am I forever in the shadow of my own isolation?
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Am I me?
I just want to know who I am.
I just want to be me.
Am I me?
-M
p.s. - Lots of feels in this poetry-inspired post today. 🖤 I’m very happy right now in life. And… I do grapple with the question: Am I me?— Or am I lost to the stories of my life, shattered too deeply to be made whole again? That’s a profound question. And yet, somehow, right now, I believe that… I am me. ❤️🔥 Even though I don’t always know what that means or how to accept that. Can you relate? 🥹
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I. Am. Reduced. To. AWE !!!!!!!!!!
Megan!!
A poet and she didn't know it?!
This piece is stunning. Deserves to be framed in the international museum of poetic works.
So much truth, so vulnerable, shedding shame, showing UP, processing... I feel you and I see ME reflected here and I think that's the entire point of writing anything AT ALL EVER.
Absolutely brilliant, thank you for the shoutout, I will save this in my pocket for all time, you are amazing and incredible. Good day!! 🌷
Jesus M. How the hell do you always do it? It's like you know my deepest, most hidden emotions and you just pull them right out and force me to face them head on. This was beautiful....❤️