Potential can go cheese grate itself.

Truly.

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. Warning: Usually very sweary. Enjoy responsibly.

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Picture this.

It’s 6:34am and I’ve been laying in bed for the last 47? minutes pretending that I’m going to fall back asleep and sleep into the juicy 7am alarm time I have this frigid Friday morning.

Alas, my internal alarm clock is a cunt.

Whilst I’m clinging to the illusion I will fall back asleep, I start thinking about what I’m going to write about for today’s newsletter.

The word “potential” had been swirling around my mind for the last couple of days, and I couldn’t help but feel the nudge to write about it.

And as I lay burrowed under the comforter, this sentence came to me: “potential can go cheese grate itself”.

It was at that moment that I knew I was fully awake and might as well embrace the earlier morning start than I intended.

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Megan dearest, everything is going to be fine. You’re doing so well, baby girl. Follow the fun and your life will be magical. 🫶 ← woah, that just came to me mid-newsletter-writing and I fucking love it. And whatever is happening in my life right now. 🥹🥹

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And now, it is 1:01pm as I sit down to officially write today’s newsletter.

Part of me is tantruming because I was supposed to have this written last night and sent out hours ago!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and the other part of me is chiller than the duck I see swimming in Lake Michigan out my coffee shop window view in -12 degree temps because hello?! why would I work myself into a tizzy?! I’m my own newsletter boss and I’m having fuuuuuun. This timing is perfect.

JESUS CUNTS WHAT HAPPENED TO AGGRESSIVELY SWEARY MEGAN?! ← there she is lol.

Anywho.

Potentinal.

I found myself typing out that word as I was responding to a Substack Note earlier this week.

I don’t even remember what the note was, or what exactly why I was going to use the word potentional because my brain has the short-term memory prowess of a sumo wrestler playing ballerina but I remember typing out a heartfelt reply and then pausing.

As soon as I typed out the word potential — or I think full potential — it immediately felt wrong.

And I’ve been trying to figure it out ever since.

Which means I’m going to write about it.

It’s simply the best method for me to figure out my thoughts.

Btw, I re-wrote my above-mentioned Substack note reply to convey something different, something that felt more in alignment with the way I want to live my life.

It was something along the lines of… “YASSSS to living the life that lights your soul up” vs. “here’s to living to our full potential.” Again, something like that. I truly wish my memory wasn’t meth-lab adjacent.

And now I’m going to hack apart my triggered feelings towards the word “potential”.

READY?!

Let’s fucking goooooo. 🥳

DISCLAIMER:

I’m probably going to be switching between 1st and 3rd person as I literally “write it out to/with myself”. 😅

I’m “weird”, I know… and I fucking love it. 😈😇

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So, why DID that word set off such strong emotions that haven’t stopped swirling between my meth-lab-adacent memories???

Is it something to do with feeling pressured to reach your “full potential” and then feeling heap loads of shame when you “don’t” reach it??

Or something about the absurdity of the notion of reaching your full potential in the first place?

Like, Jesus Fucking Christ, how does one measure full potential anyways????

That’s hilariously ABSURD.

But even deeper than that, the notion that it can be weighed and measured and poked and prodded is even more absurd.

It’s insane.

Except.

Is that really it bitch???

Or are you just squirming because you HATE the notion of OTHER people measuring your full potential???

Is there anything more shame-sandwich-ey than choking on the fact that you’ll never, ever measure up to the notion of other people measuring your full potential???????

TINGLY TITTIES I THINK I FOUND THE G-SPOT 😂😂😂😂

It’s true.

I get so, sooooooooo fixated on what other motherfuckers people think of me.

And I know it’s disgusting.

Trust me. 😭

I know I shouldn’t care what people think of me.

But I do.

And that’s why I’m so triggered by the two little words: full potential.

I jump off steep cliffs of conclusion and assume that everyone is looking at me and thinking:

→ “Disgust — what wasted potential. If only she was more disaplined she would be so much more successful.”

→ “Such talent she is wasting by living small. If only she grew some balls.”

→ “Her life/career could be so much further ahead if only she were only to focus and apply herself.”

God. Those assumptions feel like sharp metal piercing my skin, digging deeper into my flesh until my screams are mixed into my spilling blood.

How dare you judge me? How fucking dare you. You evil pompous motherfucking cunt. If you had any idea how chained I feel inside at times, you would be astonished I’ve been able to accomplish anything. Shove your fucking measuring stick up your ass and go roast in your scale. Fuck you.

^that’s how I feel when I feel I’m being judged.

And of course, the irony is that I’m the one who's assuming that everyone else is measuring me to my “full potential.”

Which again — I know that’s fucking insane.

How can anyone else measure me to my “full potential”???????

😂😂😂😂😂

I’m not something that can be measured, period.

Because, guess what motherfuckers?

I’m pure fucking energy.

Good luck measuring and weighing that.

I don’t care what my success looks like on paper.

I care what I feel like on the inside.

→ Am I living in alignment with myself?

→ Am I loving myself?

→ Am I having fun?

If I’m going to “measure” anything, those are the questions I will ponder.

Potential can go cheese grate itself.

AND FUCK ANYONE WHO MAKES YOU FEEL LIKE YOU’RE NOT “MEASURING UP” TO YOUR “FULL POTENTIAL”.

Baby boo… your full potential isn’t measurable.

It can’t be.

Your energy is immeasurable.

Remember that.

Hold that close to your heart when you start to feel your inner critic whispering lies of comparison and falling short into your ears.

You’re exactly perfect as you are.

Right now.

And that will never not be true.

— Signed, my higher self to me. 🥹

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OK THAT WAS A BIT THOUGHT RUSHED AS I HAVE TO GO PICK UP MY DAUGHTER SHORTLY AND AM UNDER A DELICIOUS DEADLINE BUT I THINK I CAME TO A BEAUTIFUL CONCLION DON’T YOU?????

Here’s to remembering that your soul self can NEVER ever be measured against “full potential”.

It’s not even possible.

🥹

HAVE THE BESTEST WEEKEND!!!!!!!!!!

-M

p.s. - god I fucking love writing so much!!!!!!! Thank you so much for reading. 🥰

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From the bottom of my tiny tits, thank you for being here. If these words made you feel, it would mean the world if you could tap the lil ‘heart’, leave a comment or share this. 🖤