The 4 things I'm leaving behind in 2025 (& the 3 things I'm taking instead).

OR: The newsletter that starts off ridiculously 😂 and ends rather beautifully. 🥹

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.

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Christ’s crotch it’s 8:02pm on Thursday and I’ve only got the faintest idea of what my first newsletter of the year will be, and I’m supposed to be sending this out tomorrow morning!!!!!!!!!

As you can see, I’m clearly walking sashaying into 2025 very prepared.

Jesus.

In other useless news, I have 56 browser tabs open across Chrome and Safari.

Interesting.

Now that we’ve had the most bizarre and abrupt newsletter intro I’ve had in a while, let’s get into my fresh-off-the-2025-press thoughts, shall we? As I largely have no idea what I’m about to write, I can’t wait to be surprised right along with you. 😅

The 4 things I’m leaving behind in 2024:

👎 SCARFING DOWN MY FOOD LIKE I’M TRYING TO SET A GUINNESS WORLD RECORD

Yo. Ok. Well. Erm.

how long can i stall this before i have to tell the people’s this shameful truth because satan’s sack this is shameful but goddamnit i might as well just get it on the paper, eh? ← me to me

So. I’ve realized and by realized I mean I know this has been a problem for a loooooooooooong time (read: my life for the past 10 years) problem butttttt, I’m finally determined to let this be a thing of the past, baby.

2025?

Nuuuuh, uhhhhh.

So, what the frick frack am I talking about?

Oh, only the fact that I literally INHALE my food during meal times.

I don’t think I chew more than 2 bites usually, 3 bites MAX for most bites before down the hatch it goes.

oh, and you have maaaaaaaaaasive chronic bloating issues, you don’t say, biotch

The biggest reason why I inhale my food is because I think my nervous system is basically in chronic fight-or-flight mode, and it’s just this subconscious message of: there is no time to relax, hurry, hurry, hurry.

And so, I do just that. I whip down my first meal of the day: 2 eggs, a hamburger patty, and an avocado (I do intermittent fasting, jeez) in 2 minutes. I think. Something like that. It’s helllllllla fast.

And that’s how I eat EVERYTHING.

Fast, fast, fast.

Now, to be fair, my personality is just generally more of a go, go, go type of personality. I’m definitely not a slow, slow, slow kind of person and my road rage driving habits can attest to that. 😅

But it’s the constant feeling of my body never being able to relax that is fucking me up, yo. 😭 And so, I have been inhaling my food when I’m at home. I have slightly better habits when I’m around other people because SHAME. Obvs.

And I’m not sure what flipped in me, but for the last week or so I have finally, for the first time EVER— been consciously chewing my food, savoring the bites, and slooooooowing the fuck down. 🥹🙏

And so I am leaving my probably-could-set-a-Guinness-World-Record-for-fast-eating in the past. I know I have a lot of work to do to reset my nervous system, and I’m soooo grateful that I feel a real shift in this area. Baby steps. 🥹

👎 WASHING MY FACE 2X DAILY

Welp. Now I’ve done it.

I shall officially be known henceforth as: DISGUSTING SHAME SANDWICH. 😭

What, you’re 31 years old and only wash your face 1x daily?!?!?! Jeeeeesus you lazy bitch.

^ what I can only presume everyone is thinking about me now.

And you know what, 48% of me DOESN’T GIVE A FLYING FELINE 🐈 WHAT YOU THINK OF ME.

But the other 52% definitely worries the skin care hoes will come at me with their claws out.

I despise and I mean DESPIIIIIIIIIISED ← yep already in the past tense motherfuckers washing my face at night.

Literally every single night I would turn into the cuntiest cunt at the prospect of lowering myself to my faucet and assaulting my face with cleansers and serums and shit.

ABSOLUTELY LOATHED IT!!!!!!!!!!!

And then one day a couple of weeks ago I had an epiphany.

Wait for it.

I’M A 31-YEAR-OLD WOMAN WHO DOESN’T HAVE TO WASH HER FACE AT NIGHT IF SHE DOESN’T WANT TO!!!!!!!!!!

The amount of JOY I get from not washing my face anymore at night is INSANE. 😂 I’m literally giddy with glee RIGHT NOW because I know I don’t have to wash my face tonight. HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!

Actually, I have my new snail jiz routine to thank for this epiphany. My skin game has improved, which allowed me to dare to fantasize about skipping the PM routine in the first place. And honestly, my skin looks even better then it did when I was washing 2x daily.

Shameful obligatory statement: I’M MAD AS HELL I DON’T HAVE FLAWLESS FACIAL GENES. IF I GOT FLAWLESS SKIN FROM HAVING A 2X DAILY FACIAL ROUTINE, I’D RECONSIDER. UNTIL THEN, 1X DAILY FOR MEEEEEEE.

👎 DOING SHIT THAT MURDERS MY SOUL

Great Jehoshaphat I cannot stress this one enough: I SOLEMNLY SWEAR I AM DONEEEEEEEEE DOING THE SHIT THAT I HATE.

DONE.

DONE.

DONE.

I have this fear that my natural talents and abilities are like cyanide to this world and unless I lower my expectations or try and make myself fit into the natural order of things I will never get anywhere.

And so, that’s what I’ve largely done in my career EVEN UP UNTIL NOW.

Even up until now. 😭

And it’s gotten me NOWHERE.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I have climbed the ladder a liiiiiitle bit. A micro dick amount. But good god has it taken chunks of my soul with me.

And I don’t know why it’s taken me so bloody long to realize but HELLLLLLLLLO… I will ***never*** be happy or satisfied trying to fit myself into bland boxes or spaces that aren’t right for me.

And so, I’m leaving the forced, I-fucking-hate-this-but-think-it’s-my-only-option, playing it safe in the motherfucking past.

With that being said, I KNOW this is a massive struggle of mine, and it will likely be a daily practice (forever?) to tune into myself and tune out the noise, so… pray for me? 🙏

If I’m still at the same job by year-end somebody slit my knuckles please

👎 AVOIDING THE SUNSHINE + OUTDOORS LIKE IT’S THE AIDS

I haaaaaaaate that this is true, but… during the colder/winter months especially, during a week, I get approximately 50 minutes of time outside ON A GOOD WEEK between walking my daughter to the bus stop and running errands.

50 minutes per WEEK 😱

THAT IS ABSOLUTELY ATROCIOUS!!!!!!!!!

Our human species are NOT designed to sit inside all day and work on a screen.

And yet, that’s how I spend most of my working hours.

Inside, on a screen.

And for some fucked up reason, I haaaaaaaaate getting up and going for a walk during the day while I’m working.

Working out I have no problem with lol, I do it every morning! 💪 It’s just the lack of frequent movement during the day that I take issue with.

First off. Clothes. You have to wear clothes for walks. 🙄

Second off. Hair. You can’t scare the neighbors with crazy hair. Annoying.

Third off. Shoes. My arch nemesis. I seriously haaaaaaaate putting on tennis shoes. It’s right up there with washing my face at night. Fucking hate it!!!!!! 😂

Fourth off. Work. What if I, god forbid, got caught walking while I’m on the clock! It gives me the scares!

So, as you can see my list of excuses are utterly REDICULOUS and yet, I’ve let them rule the roost. 🐓

BUT NO MORE, MOTHERFUCKERS, NO MORE.

Megan means business, this time.

I’m leaving these bullshit excuses in the past and am committed to going on daily walks in this new year and beyond. 💪💪💪

(((Pls, ask me how I’m doing in the weeks to come to make sure I’m sticking with this!!!)))

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The 3 things I’m taking with me into 2025:

👍 CARING WHAT PEOPLE THINK OF ME

Yep. You read that right. Unfortunately, I will still be taking this with me into the new year. FUCK A JUICY DUCK!!!!!

On a positive note, I know I have made SOME progress in this department this year. Otherwise, I would never have had the courage to start this newsletter. 🥹

So, good job, Megan!!! 🙏

However, I still care what people think of me. A lot.

And I could either pretend that’s not the case or shamefully acknowledge that’s the case and go on a quest to find a miracle cure to stop this behavior!!!!!!

JK. I know what the cure is:

just fucking do the shit i want to do and to hell with what anyone thinks! bam, simple as that

🙄 ← me, right now.

Sigh. I know it’s simple.

And, I also know that my body has ingrained years of stress and trauma and my nervous system is in shambles and I have patterns and ways of thinking that are in big hairy tangles.

Big breath.

I also know it’s possible for me to really, truly, not give a flying middle finger about what other people think of me. ← well, at least, I desperately hope that’s possible!!!!!

At the very least, I know I can live a life that delights me up from the inside out, and I don’t have to apologize or shy away from it.

And that’s what I shall practice towards. 🖤

👍 ATROCIOUS SPELLING HABITS

Yeah. This shit ain’t going anywhere. All I can say is THANK GOODNESS FOR GRAMMARLY. ← lmaooooooo y’all I spelled Grammarly wrong on the first try, only used one m and I’m dying hahahahah

On a more positive note, my daughter is actually a pretty damn good speller! Hallelujah! ← once again, Grammarly saved my decrepit ← also on that one smdh ass.

👍 MY LOVE OF WRITING + SUBSTACK + SHAME SANDWICH

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^me, at a loss for words, ironically, over how much I love Writing + Substack + my lil Shame Sandwich newsletter.

If I could make writing this newsletter my full-time job I would be the happiest bitch on the planet UNIVERSE!!!!!!!!! ← times infinite exclamation points. Seriously.

I thought I had to find something all “serious” and “worthy” and “prestigious” and “difficult” and “busines-sy” and “serious” as my dream career that would a) make me a human worthy of respect and b) pay the bills + money left over for a lot of travel and shit.

SPOILER ALERT: I’m soooooo far away from even thinking about Shame Sandwich being something that was a career generator dream job. I’m a tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiny fish in a massive ocean.

But… this lil newsletter, and this community on Substack, and you, have shown me what it feels like to belong. 😭

For the first time in my ENTIRE life, I’m not forcing a goddamn thing.

And I’m getting paid to do it.

I’ve got 18— EIGHTEEN paying subscribers.

🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

WHAT IN THE ACTUAL COCK-FUCK WIZARDRY MAGIC IS THIS?!?!?!?!?!

It truly feels like magic. To do what I love and get paid for it?????

(((I know I’m a gazillion miles away from being at a place where my paying subscriptions could support me financially, but I am still blown away and so so so honored and proud that I have paying subscribers… and it makes me wonder, could my following and paying subscribers keep rippling outwards and upwards? Could this turn into my full-time dream job? Christ, I can scarcely utter type those words. Who am I to even dream such a thing?)))

My trauma-ridden, fight-or-flight self truly struggles to accept the fact I can actually pursue shit that I truly, deeply, love… and it doesn’t have to be a daily fight to engage or stick with it. 😭🖤

My default mode has been struggle and hardship.

And… I’m currently having a nasty flare-up of WHAT-THE-FUCK-YOU-CAN’T-POSSIBLY-MAKE-YOUR-NEWSLETTER-YOUR-CAREER-IONITIS and it’s quite debilitating.

However… I don’t care.

I know it’s just my lower self freaking the fuck out.

And my higher self is taking allllllll of my love for writing + this community + my Shame Sandwich newsletter into 2025 and beyond:

I’M IN LOVE WITH MY WRITING AND NEWSLETTER + I DON’T CARE WHO KNOWS IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Just don’t tell my parents. Or my co-workers. Or future Hinge dates. Pls. Thank you. 😅

I don’t yet know how to make my dream writer (+ some funnnn other ideas) become a reality. But I’d rather live trying than die pretending to be something I’m not.

Here’s to being exactly who we really are.

🖤🖤🖤

-M

p.s - Can we just take a moment to pause and appreciate that my first newsletter words of the year were “Christ’s crotch”? I am very, shamefully very proud of that one. 😂

p.p.s - HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!! 2025, here we come. I feel good energy swirling, I really do. May you have your best year yet. I’m cheering you on, big time. 🥹🙏🖤✨

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