About Her*
*Very Professional Bio.
Some people call her Megan Lee. But her friends call her badass, her kid calls her moooomm!!!!!, her ex calls her bitch, and she calls herself the Chief Outside-The-Box-Thinker.
She wears all titles proudly.
When she’s not helping humans find their thing and live a life that lights their hearts on fire, she’s probably writing this newsletter. Oh, and swearing.
She’s freakishly obsessed with enabling humans to live a life that would have given Bob Ross a run for his happiness (RIP Bob), laughter, and inner peace.
And she’s wickedly good at it.
Fuck.
But, that's not the whole story...
She was raised in a very religious home: Only allowed to wear clothing that covered her kneecaps and kept the shoulders shaded from the sun (and out of the eyes wicked boys) until 14? Check. Daily bible reading done before any fingering of the No. 2 pencil and starting school? You betcha. Not allowed to have a boyfriend? Duh-zers.
The 3rd oldest of 7 kids, homeschooled alllllllllllll the way K-12, (which, actually, she has now come to appreciate very much), she was a total tomboy and not to be trifled with. Her best friend was her diary and she had trouble forming friendships.
Shocking.
After she got married at the tender age of 21 to a totally fucked up asshole (see: childhood), she decided she should get TF out of the abusive marriage. But, not before having a child at age 22, being diagnosed with thyroid cancer at age 23, and becoming a FT single parent at age 24. #FunTimes
It was at the (basically) penniless age of 25 that she decided that would NOT be the end of the story for her and her darling daughter. She would choose to live her life with purpose, on purpose. And she was determined to inspire others to live their best life by living her best life, even though she didn’t have a clue what that would look like.
Flashforward a couple of years to a fuck ton of trial and error, twist and turns, ups and downs, and Megan is happy to report she finally (mostly) came to terms with the fact that she’s never going to fit into any boxes. She’s sweet. And sour. And sweary. And hilarious. And raunchy. And empathetic. And creative. And a writer. And (still) unsure of how to make friends. And strong. And sensitive. And swears a fuck ton. Basically, she’s her own ying to her yang. This bitch doesn’t make sense on paper. And that, somehow, makes perfect sense.
Her guiding north star? Inspire others to live their best life by living her best life. 🖤
At this point in her story, you might be tempted to think Megan has now "made it"... a confident bitch who's persevered through adversity, running her own business whilst galavanting off to Edinburgh anytime she likes in search of clan Mackenzie descendants. #JamesFraiser IYNYK .
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Spoiler Alert.
Not even fucking close. 😂
>She still has a FT day job that sucks her soul like a broke hooker sucks dick.
>She's worried people will never take her seriously because she swears like a Russian truck driver suffering from a hemorrhoid.
>Some days she's shakier than a one-legged-toddler on a rollerblade when it comes to believing in herself and her dreams.
>She has a (17-foot-long) hemorrhoid deep-rooted belief that nobody will ever (and she means ever) want to work with her or buy her shit.
She's TERRIBLY terrified to admit those things to you, though. (🫣)
Because, aren't people on the Internet supposed to be radically successful and never admit anything less???
"What will people think of that admission?!"
"Will people laugh at me and call me pathetic??"
"Do people still STONE people???"
"What does a digital stoning look like these days???"
^Those are the questions Megan's currently grappling with as she's cowering behind her (not-top-of-the-line) standing desk, trying not to become entangled in the cords they never talk about.
However,
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
after flirting with fear and rock-bottom for way too long (she was close enough to see the large jaggedy rocks) she has decided to say FUCK IT:
>Fuck it to fitting into (basic, bland, boring) boxes.
>Fuck it to waiting to show up until she was as polished as a Paris Hilton's hoo-hah.
>Fuck it to watering down her voice (as much as the watered-down drinks they serve at overpriced bars).
>Fuck it to playing smaller than a micro-dick on a cold day because she's worried about making people "like her".
👏👏👏👏👏👏
These days?
Megan's on a quest to live her best life (& quit her soul-sucking day job), build a life that allows her to fulfill her wildest wanderlust desires, and help humans just like you find their thing & live their best fucking lives.
Megan might not know how to use proper grammar or stop herself from uttering profanity-laced rants at the drivers in front of her, but she does know one thing:
Nothing and she means nothing (...well, except possibly Jamie Fraiser giving you a full body massage...) can ever come close to finally embracing who you are and giving zero fucks to fitting into what other people deem acceptible.
Here's to living like ^that.
Want to get a pulsating jolt of electricity in that general direction?
👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇