Substack Shame.

Anyone else?

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.

I just stuffed the newsletter I had intended to write into a closet.

Light off.

Door slammed shut.

Key locked.

Do I have shame over that?

Does a cat lick its ass on a Tuesday morning at 9:17 for the thrill of it?

Does a squirrel turn into its parents and hoard nuts like a proper prepper?

Does a toilet get sick of all the shit it constantly deals with?

Yes.

The answer is yes.

And? It wasn’t the right time to release it.

Or rather, the honest-est answer is:

I’m too chicken shit to write it and release it.

FUCK A BULL!!! am-I-right? ← literally such a pompous phrase hahaha

So that is leaving me feeling despondent ← look at me using big words like a literary slut.

Which brings us to a very interesting crossroads…

WHAT SHOULD MEGAN LEE WRITE ABOUT TODAY INSTEAD????

It’s funny, because the nano-second that I have that thought?

The answer bursts forth like a geyser with blue balls that just got laid.

So, what should I write about instead?

Ugh.

This topic is also uncomfortable.

*hunts for another closet*

WHIP LASH ALERT!!!!!

I have a dad.

My mom was not the Virgin Mary.

Not that she doesn’t not give off Virgin Mary vibes but Jesus was not her baby daddy.

WTF Megan where are you going with this????? 😂😂😂😂

ANYWHO.

Yes, I have a dad.

And he recommended a book a couple of years ago called Fierce Conversations by Susan Scott.

It was quite good.

My two biggest ← and let’s be fucking real it’s a miracle I even remember this shit because that shit normally gets sucked into a black hole closet or something good god takeaways were:

1. Mostly stop saying the word but— it completely illegitimizes what came before it and 97% ← my own made up stat lol of the time that is the equivalent of gas lighting people.

2. The conversation prompt: “What’s the one thing you are desperately hoping I won’t ask you, but we really need to talk about?” ← OOOOOF this one rattles me down to my slip cushions ← that was sexual. How terrifyingly good is that question??? Like the people pleasing “I would do anything to avoid uncomfortable situations” side of me is squiiiiiiiirming right now. And yet… having those “hard conversations” can be where the magic of the relationship transforms and blossoms. Truly.

WHICH IS EXAAAAAAACTLY WHAT JUST HAPPENED NOW.

I was like “hmm, what should I now write about tonight?”

And without even a nano-second to process my bitch brain was instantly like “WRITE *THE THING* YOU DON’T WANT TO WRITE ABOUT, BITCH!!!!!!! YOU KNOW, *THE THING*!!!!!!!”

Le sigh.

I do know The Thing.

.

.

.

Are you ready for it?

The Thing I don’t want to write about is that I’ve been a TERRIBLE Substacker these last couple of weeks.

😭😭😭😭😭

And I feel shame over that fact.

Notifications are piling up that I haven’t responded to.

DM’s I’ve ghosted.

Newsletters I love that I’m behind reading and supporting.

SO.

MUCH.

SHAME.

And perhaps the most insidious part about shame?

The MOMENT it arrives and is left unchecked?

That bitch starts a no-condom-allowed orgy party and fucks a whole bunch of shame babies into existence and those things mature fast and start fucking too!!!

And once you’ve fully inhaled that shame sandwich, let’s just say it’s not so easy to do the Heimlich maneuver on yourself. 😭

Which is where I currently find myself.

Choking on my shameful ghosting Substack patterns these last couple of weeks.

UGH!!!!!

There’s no “logical” reason why I am “procrastinating” on keeping up with Substack comments.

Unless, maybe there is?

Please bear with me.

I’m about to process shit in real time.

Warning: Not sure what’s about to flow forth. Proceed at your own risk. 😅

HERE’S THE MOTHERFUCKING DEALIO, YO.

YOU HAVE A FUUUUUUUCK TON OF SHIT GOING ON AT THE MOMENT.

MASSIVELY MASSIVE.

YOU GOT A PROMOTION AT WORK, RIGHT??? OBVS THAT’S A LOT MORE PRESSURE AND RESPONSIBILITY.

YOUR DAUGHTER IS HOME FROM SCHOOL FOR THE SUMMER AND YOU’RE BOTH TRYING TO MAKE IT WORK IN A CONFINED SPACE TOGETHER FOR 24 HOURS A DAY. LITERALLY NUF SAID. THAT IS ENOUGH TO MAKE A DEAD NUN DRINK HERSELF TO LIFE. ← KIDDING BUT ONLY SLIGHTLY. IT’S BEEN A ROUGH WEEK, CLEARLY.

NOT ONLY ARE YOU IN A NEW RELATIONSHIP, YOU HAVE HAD FUN SUMMER PLANS WITH YOUR MAN EVERY SINGLE WEEKEND THIS SUMMER!!!!!!!!! EVERY HEART EYE EMOJI. AND ALSO LET’S BE HONEST, COME MONDAY YOU ARE VARYING DEGREES OF SLEEP DEPRIVED. WHICH DOES NOT, TO YOUR GREAT SHAME, LEAVE NEARLY AS MUCH TIME FOR SUBSTACKING AS BEFORE!!!

SO CUT YOUR TITTIES SOME SLACK, ON SUBSTACK ← LOL BECAUSE YOU’VE BEEN BUSY *LIVING*, QUEEN. AND ADJUSTING TO NEW CIRCOMSTANCES AND SO YES— SOMETHING IS GOING TO HAVE TO GIVE. WHEN YOU GET OVERWHELMED, YOU NORMALLY GO OFF THE DEEP END AND END UP IN A VERY DEEP HOLE. AND THEN ARE HELLA HARSH ON YOURSELF.

IT’S… *OK*!!! YOU’RE NOT A HORRIBLE PERSON BECAUSE YOU’RE BEHIND ON RESPONDING TO NEWSLETTER COMMENTS. AND VARYING DEGREES OF LIFE. YOU ARE *HUMAN*. AND FIGURING IT OUT AS YOU GO. AND YOU KNOW WHAT? EVEN IF YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE CAME TRUE AND ALL OF YOUR SUBSCRIBERS THOUGHT YOU WERE A HORRIBLE PERSON AND ALL STOPPED COMMENTING AND UNSUBSCRIBED ← SHIT THAT IS ROUGHER THAN SANDPAPER SEX YOU ARE *STILL* NOT A FAILURE BECAUSE YOU’RE OUT HERE LIVING, TRYING, DOING, BEING, WHILE SOME PEOPLE LIVE THEIR WHOLE LIVES TOO AFRAID TO GET MESSY.

SO HERE’S TO MESSY. HERE’S TO COMPASSION. HERE’S TO SELF-LOVE. HERE’S TO NOT BEING SO FUCKING HARD ON YOURSELF. HERE’S TO AUTHENTICITY OVER PERFECTION. OK?????? OH-FUCKING-KAY. ← my higher self to me.

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

OK.

Wow, I really needed that. 😭

I’ve got a lot going on at the moment, duh.

I just feel so bad about letting my community down.

If someone took time out of their busy day to read my newsletter and leave a comment and I effectively ghost them for a week?

I feel AWFUL!!!!!!

I am so so so so so soooooo grateful to everyone who reads, hearts and comments.

Y’all bring me so much joy!!!!!!

And it causes me massive pain to think people think I don’t care.

I do. 🙏

I’m just… in a replying-to-notifications-rut at the moment, which snowballs the shame, etc. etc. etc.

So… yeah.

I needed to get that off my shameful chest.

The urge to NOT post this newsletter is strong because helloooo there are so many worse things in the world than whining over the fact I feel bad that *I* have not done something that is *my* responsibility to do. I want to fully acknowledge that.

And, I’m also human. And am feeling this way. And I’d rather be authentically messily vulnerable than pretend otherwise.

So, to those I’ve ghosted, I’m sorry. 😭

I’m annoyingly human. 😂

I love you all!!!!!

Please have the bestest bestest weekend.

❤️‍🔥

-M

p.s. - Anyone else battle this particular Substack shame?????? ← asking for my shame.

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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. 🖤

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