I've been on Substack for 4 weeks, here are my 4 observations since joining...

+ 1 Very Shameful Announcement 💅

ahem ahem ahem

no I am not sick, just clearing the jitters! ← so lame lmao

instead of a throat clear, it’s a brain clear!

ANNOUNCEMENT TIME!!!

Oh damn, my little chesticle got all tight and agitated when I typed those words. fack. Here goes 3 hours of unwanted anxiety. I wish I could delete those words and erase the anxiety too. 😭😂

So, now that I’m officially an old substack hag (shoutout to

Adam Lutzi Rockwell

’s recent post “My Nemesis & Walking My Cat” where he mentions the word “hag” and now I cannot get it out of my brain and will probably have to use it 17 more times because it’s so fun to use so bear with me ok 😂) and clearly have no idea what I’m doing, I thought I would share my best substack observations with you anyway. There are 4. (DAMNIT I GET SIDETRACKED EASIER THAN A SQUIRREL GOING TO CHURCH WHO’S EYE GOT DRAWN TO A NUT OFF THE BEATON PATH AND ENDS UP IN A NUT JOINT WITH BOTTOMLESS MIMOSAS AND SQUIRREL-GOD IS JUST LIKE, WTF, MAN— ANYWAYS, I will get to the “Annoucment Time!!!” after these damn observations hahahah)

OBSERVATION #1

You will catch 0% percent of your sneaky typos in draft mode. You will catch 11% in preview mode, 32% in test email mode, and 57% after you’ve already sent that bitch out. This will make you feel squirmy and stupid but ultimately will strengthen your sphincter emotional resilience muscle. Which, we call a win. This is proven true with the last newsletter I sent out. If you’re wondering whether or not I went in and edited those typos out, no, no I did not. I feel that reflects poorly on me. Damn.

OBSERVATION #2

You will vacillate widely between “WOAH THIS IS THE COOLEST COMMUNITY EVER!!!!” to “FACKING FACK I AM A HACK (😂) AND UTTERLY TALENTLESS COMPARED TO THE WRITERS WITH REAL TALANT ON HERE!!!!!”. Tbh I’m still not sure what to do about this. Actually, that’s a lie. I do know what to do about it. Tune out the haters(→ read: inner bitch critics) and MAKE SWEET LOVE TO YOUR SUBSTACK EDITOR BECAUSE FUCK THE INNER BITCH CRITICS. Hm. Not sure if that came across correctly.

Basically?

Write what you love.

Love what you write.

And keep putting yourself out there. You would hate yourself if you tried to write something you’re not, in a style that’s not you, just to be “likable”.

You will quickly learn that writing for the joy of writing is better than heroin because you asked heroin Joe and he told you so. JK sorry if that offends.

OBSERVATION #3

You will wonder if you will ever go viral on Notes. WHAT DOES IT FEEL LIKE TO GO VIRAL ON NOTES? I imagine it feels like the WHOOOOSH of a roller coaster. Right when you’re descending like a speed demon, your eyes are wide, the thrill is exhilarating, the speed is dizzying, your mouth is gaping open in strangely contorted ways and then BAM it’s over and you must descend the ride with shaky legs, a still whirling mind and warranted trepidation at seeing the roller-coster photo they snap of you at the worst possible time.

Anywho.

OBSERVATION #4

YOU WILL LEARN THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS FAILURE. I have been a chronically scared cunt woman for many years and terrified of that F word. But you know what? It’s all a big misunderstanding. Truly!

“Failure” means you’re taking action. And taking action is in turn teaching you new things. And knowledge is infinitely powerful. Isn’t that stupendously amazing?!?! Fuck, I love a good re-frame.

…

So, there I was, on the precipice of joining Substack.

AND….

I was scared shitless. (← scared constipated? Never really thought of it that way before. huh.)

I knew that I wanted to write But oh… what to write about? What if everyone hates it? What if everyone is indifferent? How to position myself? ← Not going to lie this one royally bent me over. My brain can QUICKLY get overwhelmed and be like “OH MY GOD DO I WRITE ABOUT THIS?, OR THAT?, OR DO A DEAR DIARY RANT STYLE?, OR JUST LET THE WORDS TUMBLE OUT?, OR DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO HAVE A ‘REASON’ OR ‘LESSON’ OR WHAT IF I WANT TO BE SERIOUS FOR ONCE?, WILL PEOPLE ACCUSE ME OF BEING BI-POLAR?? IDK!” — and then I just wallow in overwhelmed land. Staying stuck in fear. Fearing the “FAILURE” of any of the above imploding on me.

I’m happy to say I was courageous enough to go 9 rounds with “failure” and after coming out with a black eye and two bruised ribs… I joined substack, pushed past the fear of “having it all figured out”, and challenged myself to write 3x weekly for the entire month of June as an experiment to normalize failure to myself.

And you know what? I’m so, so proud of myself for doing so. I learned a shit ton from posting 3x weekly, and it’s led me to my (forthcoming) announcement.

FUCK YEAH FAILURE!!! (← I want the t-shirt)

So. The only way you can actually “fail-fail” is to be a frozen ice-cube who never actually does anything at all because of fear.

So, FAIL AWAY, MY FRIENDS. And soak up that knowledge. 💧

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Now that we’ve got those hag-ish observations out of the way… it’s ANNOUNCEMENT TIME!!! (for real this time 😂)

Welp (jesus I’m nervous, why am I nervous?) I have decided I am changing my Substack name from Oops, I Started a Newsletter to…

SHAME SANDWICH

Lie to me and tell me you’re happy for me.

And now I feel like I have to explain myself with a bloody dissertation even though you probably do not require a bloody dissertation. WELL YOU’RE GETTING ONE ANYWAY.

So, first off, I despise feeling boxed in. Makes me feel anxious. If homegirl wants to bolt, she’s gotta be able to do that freely, you feel me? And now that you have precisely zero idea where I’m going with this, I shall explain.

Oops, I Started a Newsletter was the perfect “open-ended” newsletter name, zero boxed-in-ness at all. I could write about literally ANY TOPIC and not feel like the name of my newsletter precluded me from it.

HOWEVER— don’t you just love a good however—

The name Oops, I Started a Newsletter just wasn’t SNAPPY enough for me. It was a bit too vague.

Open-ended? Yes. Memorable? Sorta. But punchy? Nope.

AND THEN ONE DAY, SHAME SANDWICH DESCENDED ON MY BRAIN FLAB AND WAS LIKE… WHAT ABOUT US?

And I was like.. HUH. What about Shame Sandwich.

But THEN I thought about how that would box me into a very tiny box. About the size grown men produce when they wobble on one knee (←DOES THAT MAKE ME SOUND JADED?) and so I was hemming and hawing.

HEM-HAW, HEM, HAW. (← say that more than 3 times fast in a row and I guarantee you’ll think you’ve lost your mind, I know I did)

But ultimately? It just feels right. It’s punchy. It’s funny (at least I think so). It’s memorable. And?

And.

And.

And.

For most of my 31 years, I’ve not felt safe truly being myself. I have layers of shame, baked into me through my very religious upbringing and at times tumultuous childhood into adulthood, and well… it feels really good to write about it. Write my way out of shame.

AND YES, I FEEL SHAME WRITING THE WORDS: “it feels really good to write about it. Write my way out of shame”.

Thoughts like: “you should do this in therapy, NOT on substack, dumb bitch” run rampant.

Or: “it’s embarrassing that you would feel shame over that, omg #awk” crowd my mind.

But then remember.

THERE IS NO ONE WAY TO LIFE.

And right now, for me, sharing my shame, thoughts, laughs and lessons that have been bottled up inside of me, brings me incredible insight and clarity and yes, just maybe, a sense of feeling lighter, stronger, more resilient and more free to be me.

So I will write. I will shame sandwich my little heart out because I know it’s what I want to do.

And it feels good. Scary, sometimes, hella scary. But also, so fucking delicious. 😋

Back to the name. I WAS worried about being boxed in by the name, and people thinking I’m ONLY going to write about shame. Welp. Guess what?

Fuck it. I’m coloring outside the lines, peeps. 😈

Yes, lots of my shit will probably be infused with me trying to purge myself of shame by talking about shame in one capacity or another (sometimes messy, other times not). But also? I’m giving myself one giant ass permission slip to right about whatever the fuck I want. when I grow up I want to be my own boss 🥹

TL;DR

I’m changing my newsletter name to SHAME SANDWICH.

You’ll probably not even notice, tbh, cuz my writing style isn’t going anywhere. 😂

It’s still going to be a mix of personal essays, thoughts, rants, etc. Sometimes on shame, sometimes shame infused, and other times, nothing to do with shame. Hopefully my words will make you laugh, and think. And also… inspire you to be your own version of the most authentic version of yourself. <3

ALSO!

Just as a little heads up, I think I’m going to do 2 newsletters a week, henceforth.

Tuesday: Light & easy. A quick curation of what I’m reading, loving, etc.

Friday: Full Shame Sammie newsletter.

And we’ll see how that goes!!! 🤞I’m re-framing from “OH MY GOD THIS CANNOT FAIL” to… “hey, we’ll see how this goes! I’m experimenting! If it feels right and is fun, fuck yeah. If not, I’m allowed to pivot”. 💛

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So there you have it! That’s my special announcement. Pretty excited over here.

AND DON’T FORGET NEXT TIME I LAND IN YO INBOX IMMA BE SHAME SANDWICH OK? 😄🥪

-M

p.s. Because it’s the 4th of July holiday in the U.S. this week, I will start my new weekly schedule next week. It feels shameful to be so excited. 😂😂

p.p.s - oh my god i just felt emotional at the thought of this being my last ever “Oops I Started a Newsletter, newsletter!!! 😥 (← tell me you have attachment issues without telling me you have attachment issues)'

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Hi, hello! You just read Oops, I Started a Newsletter* where I, Megan, share some shit with you in the only way I know how: blasphemously.

*Soon to be Shame Sandwich 🥪

If you hate my writing please leave me a middle finger review and let me know. Exclamations are greatly appreciated. Emoji’s as well.

Or, if you didn’t hate my writing, a lil heart, comment or share would really make my tits tingle.

Alternatively, if you love my writing and want to show your support, you can buy me some coffee popcorn. I love popcorn. But please know, I will still love you just the same even if you never buy me some popcorn, okay? 🫶