Entry #1 • August 12th, 2025

Disclosure: First ever Just Me entry, so...buckle up. It's raw, faith-heavy, and has pieces straight from my journal (aka my feelings on paper). This series is my place to spill stories, lessons, and maybe a few awkward laughs. It's not a book (calm down), but it's something for both of us to enjoy. And yes, I'm already cooking up the next one.

Aim, Fire, Ready!

I was originally about to dump all of this into the main store newsletter, and luckily had the wherewithal to yank the cord on that plan before hitting send.

Here’s the (sometimes frustrating) part of my personality. Some people are “Ready, Aim, Fire” types. Some, bless them, are “Ready…ready…ready…ready…aim…aimmmmmm…FIRE!” (I’ve employed several of these, and I love them — I get to push them way out of their comfort zone, bahahaha).

Me? I’m “Aim, Fire, Ready!” Literally. That’s what I do to my poor team. And family, hahaha. I aim, bulldoze forward with my fire, and then go, “Hey guys, so we’re doing this thing…I already put it in motion, let’s go!”

It’s a bit of a thrill. But it also puts me in tough spots that are…let’s just say, tricky to mop up. Sending the message below to 7,000+ people on the internet would have been a really big Aim, Fire, Ready…regret moment. 😅

So yeah…let’s dive in, just with those of you who chose to be here.

One more thing before we start: this is literally…Just Me. Curtain pulled all the way back. I’m grateful you’ve chosen to step into this space with me.

If something I share ever resonates, makes you think, or even just makes you laugh, I’d love to hear from you — it’s one of my favorite parts of writing.

Why Is It So Scary to Be Real?

Because the moment you’re real, you risk being misunderstood. Or judged. Or having someone quietly step back from you because your reality is showing.

And yet…here we are. Me, pushing through the yuck and saying it anyway.

The last few months — really, the last 8 weeks — have been HARD. Like…really hard. The kind of hard where you’re steering the ship through a storm and pretending you’re not seasick.

The phrase I keep whispering to myself when I feel completely pressed on all sides is:

This. Is. Life.

Not in a “Well, that’s life, suckas!” kind of way. More in a grounding, anchoring way.

This is life. This moment.

Like — I’m doing it. We’re all doing it.

And when I pause long enough to let that sink in, I actually feel…encouraged.

Pressed Beyond What I Thought I Could Handle

We’ve all gone through hard things. What else is new, right?

But these last 8 weeks? They’ve been different. I’ve been pressed to the very edge of myself in ways I didn’t even know existed.

Although, as I type that, I can hear myself laughing because I’ve given birth eight times. And buddy, if you want to see the deepest reserves of strength you didn’t know you had, that’ll do it. Not just because birth is hard (it is), but because when you think you can’t possibly go one step further…you find out you can. You discover depths you didn’t even know were there.

The point is:

I feel pressed beyond measure.

​​Like I’m being held under water and also treading water​*—at the same time—with some unseen support (hi God). I cannot describe how this whole song makes me feel when it hits this part at 4:49.

It’s this weird mix of drowning but sustaining.

Like walking through deep snow…but also skiing over it.

(Definitely downhill skiing, by the way. I do NOT do cross-country. Too much work. Not enough speed.)

*Fun fact: I’ve edited and updated this newsletter several times — like when I yanked it out of the main newsletter and made it its own thing — and at least two or three times when I’ve gotten to THIS exact section, that song has randomly popped up on my playlist. Out of 148 tracks. What is even happening?!

The Regular Stuff? That's Just Background Noise

And here’s the kicker — that’s just the big stuff.

In the last eight weeks, I’ve collected (hold please…counting on my fingers…) eight separate stories of heaviness — each one big enough to take over its own chapter.

And that’s not even counting the constant mental soundtrack:

Am I doing a good enough job as a mom? As a boss (yuck word)? As a friend? Are we making enough sales to cover bills? What’s going on with tariffs? How do I replace the core brands that are shuttering their doors? Should I order Bobux shoes again (duh, yes)? Am I supporting my staff well enough? Am I killing whales by using AI?

You know. The regular list. Child’s play, right?

I shared the bare-bones summary of these eight things over in the main newsletter, now called The Mom Behind the Counter ​(read the archive here if you missed it)​.

Here in Just Me, I’ll probably unpack some of them eventually — just not today. Gotta pace myself. If I turn this into 10,000 words, we both know you’ll never open another one again.

The Eight-Week Greatest Hits

(And by “hits,” I mean gut punches.)

• The diagnosis that changed everything
• A year-long court case finally ending
• That time I trauma-dumped…in a staff meeting and then cried myself to sleep
• Fire. As in, actual flames
• Standing beside a friend in a brutal custody battle
• Tire explosion — courtesy of I-70
• Sitting with others in the thick of their pain
• A sudden work shake-up that knocked the wind out of me

So yeah…the backdrop has been a lot. And while all of that was swirling, my brain did all it could when words weren't enough — it shifted to pictures.

Now, on to the Pictures...AI Pictures

With everything brewing in the background, it’s probably no surprise that a few weeks ago, everything felt SO heavy. Like, pile-on-after-pile-on kind of heavy. My brain stopped reaching for words and started thinking in pictures. So I decided to make some.

And because I haven’t exactly developed my own artistic skillz (surely there’s a Mozart in me…wait, that’s music. Beethoven? Frank Sinatra?? Why are only musicians coming to mind? PICASSO. Michelangelo!), I leaned hard on the resource-eating, whale-killing, canyon-fire-starting wonder that is AI. (Apparently, the new argument against AI is how much energy it uses — so that’s great. Just tossing that into my already maxed-out brain file of “things to be worried about.” Le sigh. Google it if you must…but honestly, you’ll probably burn just as many resources finding out. #cantwin)

So yes, I used ChatGPT (I named him Samwise, by the way) to help design these — told him exactly what I wanted, then refined and redid them about a hundred times. They're far from perfect, but they captured the images in my mind well enough.

I almost didn’t share these with you. I figured maybe I’d just keep them tucked away forever, safe from judgment over my ChatGPT artistic skillz. (Maybe I should stick to memes already floating around the interwebs.)

But…nah. Full send.

Here's What the Images Captured

When words failed, these pictures stepped in.

Me, working one evening — my favorite time to work, my absolute creative jam. The store silent (except for Brian the Roomba vacuum swirling around…that’s a chapter for another day), my brain firing on all cylinders. Doing the thing that usually fills me up.

But that night, it felt different. The joy was still there, but so was the weight — pressing in from every side (or so I thought — muahahaha. Oh, Megan…just wait, there’s more comingggg).

My arms aren’t raised in exasperation. They’re lifted in surrender.

“Okay, God. You are holy. I’m just a mere mortal.”

Driven to My Knees

A couple more blows later, and I was here — literally driven to my knees.

“God…I’m feeble. I have no words. You are holy. I’m Yours. I surrender.”

Prostrate on the Floor

And then…a few more sucker punches. Because of course. #life

(Mind you, at this point I hadn’t even experienced the full list of eight things.)

“God.” Silence.

(By the way, I was literally flat on my face, on the floor of my office at the store, late one night. If you want to feel completely humbled, lay face down with your arms raised in reverence to your Maker.)

“I’m nothing.” Silence.

“You are holy.” Silence.

“I am Yours…I have nothing but myself to give You. Use me as You see fit. I’m Your vessel. I completely surrender.”

All of this has culminated in the ultimate feeling of...

Being absolutely abased.

(Definition: “Abased” means brought low, humbled, reduced in status. Basically, steamrolled…and then backed over just to make sure.)

Y’all…I don’t share this to brag. This is probably the most raw and humble thing I’ve ever sent to people I know and people I don’t. Honestly, it might even be easier to send it to the ones I don’t know, hahaha.

I share it because I think it’s really important to be real with people. Our world claims to be SO connected (angry eyes at you, social media), but we’re more disconnected than ever. We’ve forgotten what it feels like to truly relate in complete humanness — with all the messy feelings included. And those messy feelings? You don’t have to feel or traverse them alone.

That’s why I’m doing this series. Even though I want to throw up. Thinking of it like a journal entry no one will see makes it easier…until I Aim, Fire, and am forced to Ready myself for whatever comes after I hit send.

In a time when so much feels artificial (hi again, AI), and everyone’s fighting over the smallest things, it’s easy to forget:

We’re all human. With real needs. Real feelings.

So.

Here ya go.

Real Megan. 😅

One More Picture...and a Promise

And then, just a day or two after creating (and living) those three images, I sat down for my nightly Bible reading* and guess what verse came up?

A familiar one:

Isaiah 40:31

“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”

I literally laughed out loud. Thankfully my husband sleeps like a husband (aka like a brick), so my snickering didn’t wake him.

“Ha. Thanks, God. Feels a little too soon, though. Still raw here. But…thanks for the reminder.”

So I made the fourth image.

No, I don’t feel there yet.

But it’s something to anticipate.

A promise to hold on to.

A reminder that God sees the lowest of lows — and doesn’t leave us there to wallow in them.

*Okay, confession. I’m not one of those women who’s been flawlessly doing “quiet time” (Bible reading and studying) every day for decades. I’ve tried, sure, but never stuck with it for long.

Then in January, my pastor challenged us to not only read the Bible in a year, but to read it and journal daily. The journaling hooked me (my jam), and here we are in August — I’ve actually kept up. Every day. Sometimes just a chapter. Usually just a couple of sentences journaled right into my Bible.

The game changer? Reading it chronologically instead of front to back. It’s like the difference between binge-watching a show in order vs. catching random reruns on TV — suddenly the story makes way more sense.

From My Journal

An excerpt from my journal just the other day (about a week after the most recent sucker punch), August 3rd:

(I’m really going for it here…filleting my heart wide open. Whew.)

I don’t expect you to decipher my chicken scratch, so here's the pic, read the transcript below it:

God is good. Thoughtful. Intentional. Personal. Specific. Present. Real. Willing. Available. Caring. Kind. Remarkable.

Before going to sleep last night, I was doing my daily Bible reading. I came across verses that just felt so personal. They felt like a whisper (or shout, haha) from heaven to keep going forward with this new newsletter idea. It's several verses, but I'm going to write them out in here.

Isaiah 58: 10-12

“And if thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, and satisfy the afflicted soul; then shall thy light rise in obscurity, and thy darkness be as the noon day:

And the LORD shall guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in drought, and make fat thy bones: and thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters fail not.

And they that shall be of thee shall build the old waste places: thou shalt raise up the foundations of many generations; and thou shalt be called, The repairer of the breach, The restorer of paths to dwell in.”

Wow. What powerful verses. I feel as though I’m treading upon very holy ground. I’m so unworthy of this calling.

Signing Off

I’ve gotta sign off. My soul feels like it’s been turned inside out — not in a bad way, but in a completely raw, exposed way. And if I'm being honest...this first entry hasn't quite gone the direction I thought it might have. Feeling a lot more vulnerable than I expected for the first entry.

Curtain pulled all the way back. Just me — messy, human, surrendered — letting you see what’s on the other side.

And this? It’s only the beginning. I’ll be back soon with another piece of the story.

-Just Me[gan]