You know I’m not a mail-order bride, right?

There must be something in the water.

Something in the water at restaurants. Something in the water at Starbucks. Something in the water at the gym….

Last month, three older couples tried to set me up with their sons, who are all apparently very handsome and smart and educated and fit. To which I reply, “and with all that, he can’t manage to find his own girlfriend?” Some find this funny, others, not so much. After chatting with one couple, the mom said she REALLY wanted me to be her new daughter-in-law (I think we might be skipping a few steps here), and one couple tried to hard-sell me on their son with a laundry list of his accomplishments. While I should take this as a compliment, it’s kinda like when someone says to a woman, “You’re so beautiful and amazing! How are you still single?!” Because this implies that something must, in fact, be wrong with me, otherwise, I would be wifed up by now at the crippling old age of 28.

So, in honor of awkward attempted hook-ups, here’s a list of my least favorite places to get hit on:

  1. The street. Don’t honk at me and yell out of your window. Has that ever worked for you? No? Shocking. It’s just a cowardly attempt at asserting male dominance.
  2. The gas station. There’s nowhere to turn, clearly no gas in my car, and suddenly, I feel trapped.
  3. The gym. There’s a right way and wrong way to do this. The wrong way: Oh, you’re gonna pick the treadmill right behind me when there are literally 30 others to choose from and then follow me into the parking lot at 11 p.m. when I’m leaving after I know you’ve been creepily staring at my ass for an hour? #truestory
  4. Anywhere when I’m with another man who is clearly not just my friend. Don’t be that guy.


What I should have told every man I ever dated…

I’m sorry.

Don’t be stupid. Don’t play games.

No, we won’t end up being “friends.”

Thank you for reminding me that I’m beautiful.

Diamonds are dumb, romantic gestures are not.

I’m not very good at cuddling.

I don’t want to just be an extension of you or “arm candy”, I want to be a unique and whole human being who is encouraged to be a better person by being with you.

Excite me. Surprise me. Whisk me away.

Thank you for teaching me about relationships. For showing me that it’s okay to be vulnerable. Thank you for loving me even when I didn’t know what love was.

Be passionate about something. Anything.

It really is about the simple things. The small notes, cute texts, “just because” flowers.

Money doesn’t buy happiness. It also doesn’t buy me.

No, I wasn’t joking when I said I was waiting until marriage. Oh, you’re sexually frustrated? Try waiting for 27 years…

Finally Over You

It took a lot longer than it should have. I let emotions and habits linger.

We both knew it was over, we both knew it wouldn’t work, but instead of cutting our losses we played a game called “lets secretly be together without actually being together” for two months. That was dumb.

The last time I saw him I instantaneously knew that this had to stop. I knew that I didn’t want this anymore, whatever “this” was. I didn’t want his hand on my thigh, I didn’t want him to tell me he missed me, I didn’t want him to kiss me, I didn’t want him to buy my drink… I just didn’t want him anymore. That was a good feeling. I felt this immediate emotional weight lifted and finally felt a calming sense of closure.

And if I wasn’t 100% sure already, when we got on the topic of my recent fitness competition, I showed him a photo and he said, “You’re too buff for a girl.” My reply? “I’m so glad we’re not together anymore.”

On that note, I’m working on putting together a fitness blog to share recipes, workouts, random tips, and inspirational progress stories. I’m suuuuuper excited and will keep you all posted.

Also, October is National Healthy Relationship Awareness Month, so I’m gonna’ be comin atcha with some DATING DARES! Have some suggestions? Let me know!

Weights Before Dates

It’s been a while, I know… I’ve been busy getting shredded. As many of you know, on June 1 I started training for a bodybuilding competition. This Saturday is when I compete in the Bikini Division at the Pacific USA XIX Bodybuilding Championships!

As of today…

  • I haven’t had a beer in 71 days
  • I stopped drinking alcohol entirely 31 days ago
  • I’ve eaten oatmeal and eggs every morning since June 1
  • I have worked out at least 6 days a week, without fail
  • I have not had a single cookie, chip, or candy in over 2 months

I could go on, but you get the point. Meeting this goal has taken a lot of sacrifice. Needless to say, my social life has kinda’ taken a hit. I didn’t realize how often my friends and I eat and drink until I stopped eating out… and drinking. But so many of my friends – you know who you are – have been such a tremendous support when I felt discouraged, or when I was carb deprived and cranky, or when I didn’t want to practice my posing, or when I realized I was so broke it hurts (bikini competitions are very expensive). But watching my body, and my mind, change makes it all worth it. My trainers, Spencer & Greg Aiken with TrueFitness, coached me through this whole process and they have been an invaluable resource (and I highly recommend their bootcamp classes). After all, with their help, this is what I was able to do:

ab progress

Since I’ve been spending more time in the gym and GNC, that is now where I get hit on. I almost forget what it’s like to have a half-drunk frat guy stumble up to me and offer to buy me a drink. Now I get the cute guy behind the supplement counter give me free samples, or the trainer at the gym complement my hard work. It’s definitely been a couple of months since I’ve been on a date but it is nice to know that there are other, healthier, avenues to meet men.

Calling all eligible bachelors, I need an excuse to throw on some heels and a too-tight dress. Please fill out the following very serious Boyfriend Application and mail to me for review:


I’m gonna’ wrap up this long post with a quick Q&A:

Q: You have to go to the gym aaaaaagain?

A: Yes.

Q: Megan, tell me how to get abs!

A: Stop eating crap, move more, cut out the booze.

           Q: I’m not going to stop drinking, crazy lady!

           A: Well then stop asking me how to “get abs.”

Q: What’s your “secret”?

A: My trainers (Spencer & Greg Aiken) + busting my ass in the gym AND in the kitchen.

Q: When can you drink beer again?

A. August 17th, baby!

Q: Are you going to do another competition?

A. Maybe. But I can definitely guarantee that this experience has changed how I am going to live my life.

FOUR. MORE. DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You’re not even that cute.

That was his comeback. And this is a real-life situation that went down in a bar last night…

I am with my girlfriends at a local pub, sober as a judge (because I’m training for a fitness competition, but more on that in another post),  when out of nowhere, a random guy slaps my ass and walks away without a word. For a second I thought maybe it was an accident, or maybe he thought I was someone else, and gave him the benefit of the doubt. I look at The Best Friend, who saw the dirty deed go down, and she informs me that he definitely gave me the look-over and decided he was gonna test out the goods. I’m in shock. No man has had the audacity to do this to me in years. She immediately walks over and tells him to keep his grimy hands to himself. After she points him out to me – because I only saw the back of the coward’s head as he was walking away – I stride over to this mid-40ish man and  this was our conversation:

Me: Did you just slap my ass?

Tool: My hand might’ve glided over your ass, yes.

Me: And why would you think that would be appropriate?

Tool: Um, I don’t know.

Me: Well it’s not. Don’t ever lay your fu*#in hands on me again or I’ll have you kicked out. Do you understand?

Tool: Yeah, that’s fair.

Me: Don’t ever lay your hands on any woman again.

Tool: Yeah, I said that’s fair!

Me: Good. *walks away*

…30 seconds later he approaches me, stumbling…

Tool: Ya, you know, I have to tell you one thing.

Me: And what is that?

Tool: You’re not even that cute!

Me: hahahahah. Okay.


… aaaand this is when I start cracking up while my pack of girlfriends don’t even bat an eyelash before they jump to my defense. Good thing the bartender/friend who was working intervened before they ate him alive.

This is not the first time this sort of situation has happened to me and I’m tired of it. It’s not okay. It’s not okay to be treated as a sub-human and it’s absolutely nuts to be angry and irate after I tell you that it’s not okay. I’m sure I [gladly] bruised your ego in front of your friends, you old, overweight drunkard but honestly, you thought you could just get away with it?

Yeah, I’d like to think I have a pretty nice ass. No, that does not mean you can touch it. Women are not objects. We are not to be fondled or harassed.

At the end of the day, I can say I stuck up for myself. And I can proudly proclaim that I have amazing girlfriends that would rip someone apart in a minute if I needed them to. <3

Ladies, please, NEVER EVER tolerate that sort of behavior from anyone.

Men, learn respect.

Dont worry, be happy.

I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted. Sorry. I have been learning how to be happy.

How to be happy when shit sucks. How to be happy being single. How to be happy feeling uncomfortable. How to be happy when something doesn’t go my way. How to be happy… always.

I am finally doing things for me. I am doing things that I’ve wanted to do for a long time but didn’t just because the opinions of other people persuaded me. I started stretching my ears a couple weeks ago. I am training for a fitness competition in August. And I have remained single for the last 6 months. It would be easy to have a boyfriend right now. It would be easy to go on countless dates with someone who treats me decently. But would that make me happy?

I am learning to love myself and see myself as “beautiful” without the need for outside validation. I am becoming my version of “beautiful.”

I am opening up my eyes and heart to a different realm of relationship to God.

I am judging less and loving more.

I am learning. I am growing.

I don’t have it all figured out, but I’m enjoying the journey.

You’re so vain…

… I bet you think this blog is about you. Don’t you?

Vanity. I’ve been thinking about this word a lot lately.


The idea of “beauty” is consistently thrust down the throats of men and women, starting from a very young age.

I am 26 years old and I have a counter top full of anti-aging face lotions, serums, and beauty products. That’s insane! It made me think, when did this obsession with self-appearance begin?

I suppose it started when I realized my looks, and my looks alone, would appropriately place me into some popularity-based hierarchy in school. I was uncomfortable in my own skin for quite some time, and didn’t consider myself “beautiful” just because I didn’t fit into the per-determined mold of prettiness. Now, I embrace those things that make me an outlier. I love my freckles and wild curly hair, and I am confident. But there is always something the cosmetic industry is telling me I need to “fix” and it’s easy to believe them.

What would happen if I didn’t wear foundation for a week?

No, I don’t cake it on. Yes, I have imperfections.

How do you embrace your God-given beauty along with your “flaws?”

Should they even be called “flaws?”

How do I cast out the idea that I need to look perfect all the time?

I don’t want to be That Girl that wears make-up to the gym.

What is my idea of beauty?

Is it purely physical or does it radiates from the inside out?