Hola. I’m Megan.
I’ve been writing on Medium since 2019, and I’ve seen a not so bad level of success at it. I publish twice a week and I typically write about dating/relationships or some kind of mental health or personal development topic. In my day job, I’m a writer and an editor in the marketing world.
Fiction writing is my true love. I’ve finished my first manuscript and am in the harrowing process of querying it to agents. It’s a science fiction novel with elements of thriller and horror. …
“If he wanted to, he would.”
This is a phrase usually used when a woman is dating a man, and she doesn’t think he’s putting in enough effort, or she’s not sure how he feels about her, or maybe he’s not texting back as quickly as he used to. Or maybe he’s stopped calling, but he still texts occasionally — enough to keep her interested.
Then her best friend swoops in and says, “If he wanted to text you, he would.”
Or, “If he wanted to see you, he would.”
You get the gist.
But I’ve heard women on TikTok…
2019 was almost three years ago.
Read that again.
It’s pretty upsetting, isn’t it? It feels impossible that nearly three years have elapsed.
If there’s anything I’ve learned during this pandemic time warp, it’s that life will not wait for me. Time does not stop.
Every moment I spend doing things that aren’t important to me, that’s one minute I’m not devoting to achieving my dreams and life goals. And I don’t like that.
I buckled down and got serious about working toward my goals. With diligence and a steady schedule, I was able to finish writing my first book…
The smaller moments in life can have the biggest impact.
They can be a light in a dark day. An ounce of joy in a bleak time. A reminder that you’re not alone in the world.
Never forget the power of the small moments. Write them down in a journal. Type them in a note on your phone. Document the small moments. They’ll add up to a mountain of joy over time.
I’m sitting at a rooftop bar overlooking the river, chatting with one of my long-time friends. It’s been a year since we’ve seen each other.
It’s my farewell…
The people you meet in life are not happenstance. Even if they’re just in your life for a moment, it’s a moment that means something. The universe brings you exactly what you need when you need it. Here’s what I mean.
I potentially landed my first freelance client in an industry I wanted to gain entry to without doing any of my own legwork.
I’ve been considering pursuing a freelance writing career for many years, but the self-doubt has held me back. I have a serious case of the what-ifs: What if I can’t do it? What if I fail…
This week, I had two (count ’em, two) miscommunications with close friends because of a text message.
In both instances, my feelings were hurt and rather than stew about it and give them the silent treatment, I decided to talk about what was bothering me. Which is great — but I should have actually talked instead of texted.
It often feels easier to fire off a text, especially in the heat of the moment, than it is to pick up the phone and talk to someone. …
“What’s your dream job?” asks the guy sitting across from me at the quaint coffee shop. It’s our first date. Living in Washington, D.C., inquiries about your career are usually the first out of the gate.
I give an internal sigh and rattle off an answer like “travel photographer” or “freelance writer” — but my heart isn’t in it. I just want to move on from the topic. Thinking about my dream being tied to a job makes me feel like a hollowed-out gourd.
I used to have a heartfelt answer to this question. …
“There’s not enough weight on that barbell, Meg. Add ten pounds.”
I groaned at my CrossFit coach. “But — ”
Coach pulled me to the side. “You just lifted the bar up to your face. You can snatch that weight over your head. Don’t be afraid of it. Just effing do it.” He fixed me with a serious gaze. “You’re a badass. You need to start believing it.”
Coach had never given me a personal pep talk before. The insecure little goblin traipsing through my brain evaporated at his words. This intimidating dude thought I was a badass? Really? Me?
“How’s your dating life going? Any new women you’ve met?”
I squirm in my seat at the crowded, swanky bar as I look into my friend’s smiling face. Her question catches me off guard. Oh right, I remind myself. She thinks you’re bisexual.
“I haven’t dated a woman in about a year,” I answer. “I’ve only been dating guys recently.”
I leave it at this simple and true — but not entirely accurate — statement. It feels inconvenient to launch into an explanation about how I’m not exactly sure what I am, but bisexual doesn’t totally feel right, and pansexual…
“Well, that’s the last of it.” I shoved the heaping box of crap onto the mountainous pile in the basement and closed the door on all my belongings. Memorials to my pre-pandemic life.
Moving back in with my parents was like walking into a time capsule. Everything had changed, and nothing had changed. I’m different, but everything in my hometown is the same as it’s always been.
I’ve mentally aged a decade since the inception of the pandemic. Time simultaneously sped up and slowed to a crawl. It feels like a lifetime, and no time at all.
Living at home…