Book Three of The Unperfect Life Trilogy

There are moments in life when another person doesn’t change at all...

...and yet somehow you see them for the very first time.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately.

How often do we actually see the people we love? Not the role they play in our lives. Not the story we’ve told ourselves about them. Not the version of them we’ve carried for years.

Simply the person beneath it all.

I’ve started to wonder if becoming isn’t just the process of discovering ourselves.

Maybe it’s also the process of finally learning to see everyone else.

The other night, Bonfire Heart came on while I was driving.

I’ve always loved that song, but this time I found myself listening differently. I started wondering whether James Blunt wrote it for one specific person or whether it was always meant for all of us. I like to believe the second. The older I get, the more convinced I become that we’re all carrying the same quiet hope: to be seen, not just for the roles we play or the lives we’ve built, but for the spark that’s been inside us all along.

Maybe that’s why the song has always found me at the right moments.

Throughout my life, there have been flashes of aliveness that didn’t fit neatly into the story I thought I was supposed to be living. Some were adventurous. Some were impulsive. Some were messy. Many were judged. For years, I carried shame about those moments, believing they revealed the parts of me that needed fixing.

Now I wonder if they were revealing something else entirely.

Maybe those sparks were never signs that something was wrong with me. Maybe they were the truest parts of me refusing to disappear. They were the small pockets of freedom that kept me connected to myself through seasons when I was in danger of becoming someone else. Long before I found peace, I found aliveness. Looking back, I can see that one quietly led me toward the other.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but perhaps that song was preparing me for what would happen a few hours later.

Because that night, for the first time, I didn’t just recognize the spark in myself.

I recognized it in my mother.

I found myself on the phone with her, our conversation lasted nearly three hours.

Although she would be in Wisconsin just days later for Mara’s high school graduation, I could hear something in her voice that told me she needed to talk. So I slowed down. I stayed present. I listened differently. Not as a daughter preparing her next response, but simply as one human being trying to understand another.

Somewhere during that conversation, something shifted.

For reasons I still can’t fully explain, it felt as though I was seeing my mother clearly for the first time. Not as my mother, but as a person. As a woman. As a girl who had somehow become responsible for another life while she was still trying to understand her own.

Love filled my body.

My mother was a teenager when she had me. In many ways, we grew up together. She learned how to be a mother while I learned how to be her daughter. Yet throughout most of my life, I experienced her primarily through the role she played. She was Mom. The caretaker. The protector. The adult in the room.

Those things were true, but they weren’t the whole story.

Writing my first memoir had already begun softening those edges. As I revisited my childhood and examined the circumstances surrounding my birth, I began seeing my mother with more compassion. I could appreciate the weight she carried long before she ever became my mom.

But this felt different.

This wasn’t compassion.

It was recognition.

As the conversation continued, my thoughts drifted to Mara.

For months, I’d been living with the beautiful ache that comes from preparing your child to leave home. Pride and grief. Excitement and fear. Joy and loss. Sometimes they arrived one at a time. More often, they all showed up together.

Like so many parents before me, I’d spent countless hours wondering whether I’d done enough. Had I prepared her? Protected her? Taught her what she needed to know? Would she be okay? The questions changed from day to day, but they all came from the same place.

Love.

Then another puzzle piece quietly fell into place.

Every parent eventually arrives here. We watch our children step into lives we can no longer control, wondering whether we did enough and hoping that everything we’ve poured into them will somehow become enough when we’re no longer there to guide them.

That’s when I realized my mother had once stood in this exact place.

She had watched me leave. She had wondered if she’d prepared me well enough. She had questioned herself, worried about my future, and loved me with everything she had.

Just like I was doing now.

For the first time in my life, I wasn’t imagining what it felt like to be my mother’s daughter.

I was deeply experiencing what it felt like to be Mara’s mother.

And somehow, that became the doorway back to my own.

Loving my daughter had expanded my capacity to understand my mother. Not because either of them had changed, but because I had. Becoming Mara’s mother allowed me to receive something my own mother had been offering me all along.

The circle hadn’t changed.

I had.

Three books ago, the story I’ve been writing began in Mara’s nursery.

I cradled her in my arms wondering who she would become. I worried about the future. I hoped I could give her everything I’d spent years searching for myself. At the time, I believed the journey ahead was about helping my daughter find her way in the world.

What I didn’t understand was that she was helping me find mine.

Every chapter that followed traces back to that nursery. The healing, the heartbreak, the questions, the marriages, the father wounds, the becoming, the choosing, the being, the experiment... every step quietly brought me closer to myself.

Standing here now, though, I can see that self-understanding was never the final gift.

It was understanding love.

Love moving through generations. Love carried imperfectly by imperfect people. Love expressed differently by every person who receives it. Love quietly teaching each generation what the previous one had been trying to give them all along.

My mom and I grew up together. She became a mother while I became a daughter. Mara became a daughter while I became a mother. The circle kept turning, and the love kept moving, even when none of us could fully see it.

Until one day, I finally could.

When Kelly and I got married, we included a simple line in our vows promising simply: To love each other as best we can, in each brand new day. At the time, I thought it was a statement about marriage. Now I think it’s a statement about being human.

We spend so much of our lives relating to roles. Mother. Daughter. Partner. Friend. Stranger. We assume we know the people we love because we’ve known them for years, but perhaps truly seeing another human being is one of the last things we learn. Maybe that’s why compassion deepens with age. Maybe that’s why forgiveness becomes easier. Maybe that’s why our parents slowly become people, our children become teachers, our partners become fellow travelers, and even we become someone we finally understand.

For years, I believed this story was about becoming. Then I believed it was about choosing. Later, I believed it was about being.

Lately, I've started wondering if each season has simply expanded my capacity to love.

To love my daughter.

To love my self.

To love my mother.

To love the imperfect people walking beside me.

And perhaps, every time that circle widens...

...life has another lesson waiting.

Friends… this is as far as I’ve traveled.

There is more ahead.

I’ll see you down the path,

Meghann💚

In this heartfelt and deeply human episode of Becoming is Messy, Meghann sits down with Kim Lengling—author, podcast host of Let Fear Bounce, veteran advocate, and creative spirit whose perspective on life is equal parts grounded, playful, and wise.

Together, they explore what it means to move through grief, trauma, fear, and disconnection while slowly finding your way back to joy, awe, peace, and authenticity.

Kim shares stories from her journey through military trauma, emotional heaviness, faith, healing, and rediscovering the beauty in the little things—from music and nature to handwritten notes, dogs, shadows, and meaningful phrases that help anchor us back to ourselves.

In this conversation, they discuss:

· The emotional “gray” so many people are carrying right now

· Learning to notice the signs when you’re losing yourself

· Friendship, faith, and the people who help hold us up

· Why boundaries are essential for protecting your peace

· Letting fear “bounce” instead of absorbing negativity

· The healing power of nature, music, awe, and small rituals

· How authenticity can make life feel lighter again

· Why you don’t have to make sense to everyone else to be fully yourself

This episode is warm, honest, funny, thoughtful, and filled with gentle reminders that even in difficult seasons, there are still small moments of beauty waiting to bring us back to life.

Links & Resources

Join the messy conversation on Substack: www.theunperfectlife.substack.com

Follow Meghann for more real, raw, and messy wisdom: @MeghannDawson

Explore coaching, workshops & more: www.theunperfectlife.com

Connect with Kim Lengling: https://www.kimlenglingauthor.com/

Loved this episode? Hit follow, leave a review, and share it with a fellow Messy who needs to hear it!

#BecomingIsMessy #LetYourInnerVoiceLead #ImperfectLEVELUP #LetFearBounce #AuthenticLiving #HealingJourney #ProtectYourPeace #MindsetShift #MessyMiddle #PersonalTransformation #InnerPeace #UnscriptedGrowth

Book Three of The Unperfect Life Trilogy

A few weeks ago, I sat at my kitchen island and cried.

Not the dramatic, movie-worthy kind of crying. Just the quiet kind that comes when the people you love are asleep in the next room and the weight of the future suddenly feels heavier than it did an hour before.

As I had the year prior, Kelly lost his job in recent months. Mara is getting ready to leave for college. And despite building a business, writing books, recording podcast episodes, developing frameworks, and faithfully following every breadcrumb my inner voice has placed in front of me, I still couldn’t tell you exactly how we were going to replace the income our family needed in the months ahead.

A younger version of me would have responded very differently.

She would have quietly convinced herself that it was time to be practical. She would have updated her résumé, opened LinkedIn, and started looking for another stable job. She would have told herself that dreams are wonderful until the bills come due, and that bringing someone else’s vision to life was simply the responsible thing to do.

I’ve done it before.

Not because I lacked ambition, but because I lacked trust.

I didn’t yet believe that building a life around authenticity could also build a life that was sustainable. So every time uncertainty arrived, I abandoned my own path and went looking for someone else’s certainty.

Sitting at my kitchen island that night, I realized something had fundamentally changed.

The uncertainty was still there. The fear was still there. But the desire to abandon myself was gone.

For most of my life, my old strategy worked. It built a successful career, earned respect, moved me right on up the corporate ladder, and gave me a life that looked remarkably stable from the outside. Looking back, I can also see the hidden bargain I was making. Every achievement quietly reinforced the same belief: my safety depended on performing well. If I could be competent enough, successful enough, helpful enough, or certain enough, then perhaps I would finally earn the security I had been chasing all along.

Over the last several years, that began to change. Healing slowly became something much deeper. I learned to hear my own voice instead of everyone else’s. I learned to trust it, even when it made very little sense on paper. I left relationships, jobs, expectations, and identities that no longer fit. I stopped organizing my life around approval and slowly began organizing it around authenticity.

Somewhere along the way, I realized I wasn’t just becoming healthier. I was becoming more myself.

Sitting under the dimmed kitchen lights, I expected all of that certainty to disappear. I expected fear to convince me that authenticity had been a luxury I could only afford while life was going well.

Instead, something surprising happened.

The fear was real.

The uncertainty was real.

The tears were real.

But so was the knowing.

There wasn’t a single part of me that wanted to go back.

I didn’t suddenly want to become someone more impressive. I didn’t want to abandon my values in exchange for certainty. I didn’t want to build a life that looked successful if it meant losing the woman I had fought so hard to become.

That was the moment another question quietly arrived.

The question wasn't whether a perfect life could sustain. We already know our culture rewards perfection, optimization, and performance. The question that settled into my body was much more personal:

Could an unperfect life sustain?

Could a life built around authenticity instead of approval, around belonging instead of performance, actually support a family, a marriage, a business, and an ordinary Tuesday when nothing feels certain?

Could following one’s inner voice actually pay the bills?

For the last year, I’d encouraged other people to trust their own inner voice. I’d built a framework around it, started a business because of it, written books about it, and shared it on my podcast every single week. Each time, with complete conviction.

It all felt true when life was going well.

But with real bills to pay and no clear answer for how they would be paid, I realized I had finally reached the place where philosophy meets reality.

I wasn’t teaching the experiment anymore.

I was the experiment.

That realization changed everything.

I’d been asking whether an unperfect life could sustain, but the truth is, I’d already been living this way for more than a year. Not perfectly, and certainly not without moments of fear, but intentionally. During that time, my health has become the best it’s been in decades. My mental well-being feels more grounded than I ever thought possible, and my relationships have become deeper, more honest, and more life-giving than they’ve ever been.

Perhaps what has surprised me most is that the changes didn’t stop with me. I’ve watched this way of living ripple into the lives of the people closest to me. As I’ve become more authentic, more present, and more willing to tell the truth about who I am, I’ve watched others begin doing the same. It’s been one of the most beautiful reminders that authenticity isn’t just personal. It’s contagious.

Maybe then, I already have part of my answer. I’ve seen authenticity sustain a human being. I’ve seen it strengthen relationships, restore peace, and create a deeper sense of belonging than I knew was possible. The only question I haven’t answered yet is whether it can sustain everything else. Can it support a family? A business? A future? Can following your inner voice actually pay the bills?

I’m not really sure yet.

But for the first time in my life, that uncertainty doesn't make me want to abandon myself. It simply makes me want to pay closer attention.

Now let me ask you…

Can a life built around authenticity instead of performance, around belonging instead of approval, and around trusting your own inner voice actually hold when life becomes uncertain?

Can an unperfect life sustain?

Maybe you’ve already discovered moments that prove a more authentic life is not only possible, but sustainable. Maybe you’ve watched relationships deepen, peace replace performance, or opportunities arrive that never could have been planned.

If so, I hope you’ll tell us. Tell someone.

We’re living in a moment where we need more evidence that another way is possible. We need stories that remind us we don’t have to abandon ourselves the moment life becomes uncertain.

Deep down in my bones, I believe this is what this moment in history is asking of us.

Not perfection.

Not certainty.

Just enough courage to become the experiment.

Are you in?

Friends… this is as far as I’ve traveled.

There is more ahead.

I’ll see you down the path,

Meghann💚

In this deeply honest episode of Becoming is Messy, Meghann sits down with Serena Mastin, entrepreneur, speaker, author of Exposed: You Can’t Heal When You Hide, and founder of Pulse Marketing and Heart of Creative.

From the outside, Serena had built a successful life and thriving business. But underneath the achievement was a lifetime of survival, silence, perfectionism, and carrying pain she rarely allowed others to see.

Together, Meghann and Serena explore what it means to stop hiding, release shame, and begin healing in a way that feels whole and honest.

• In this conversation, they discuss:

  • The emotional toll of living a “split life”

  • Why we protect others while abandoning ourselves

  • How unresolved pain can show up physically in the body

  • The role self-worth plays in the relationships we tolerate

  • Grief, healing, and rebuilding after unimaginable loss

  • Learning to stop pretending and start living authentically

  • Finding joy again after heartbreak

  This episode is raw, compassionate, and deeply human. A reminder that healing doesn’t happen by becoming perfect.

  It happens when we finally allow ourselves to be fully seen.

🔗 Links & Resources

✨ Join the messy conversation on Substack: www.theunperfectlife.substack.com

✨ Follow Meghann for more real, raw, and messy wisdom: @MeghannDawson

✨ Explore coaching, workshops & more: www.theunperfectlife.com

✨ Shop the Messy Collection: www.meghanndawson.com/shop

🌿 Connect with Serena Mastin:

https://serenamastin.com/

💛 Loved this episode? Hit follow, leave a review, and share it with a fellow Messy who needs to hear it!

#BecomingIsMessy #UnapologeticallyLoveYourAuthenticSelf #ImperfectLEVELUP #HealingJourney #EmotionalHealing #PersonalTransformation #SelfWorth #AuthenticLiving #InnerChildHealing #MessyMiddle #Resilience #UnscriptedGrowth

Book Three of The Unperfect Life Trilogy

Like so many Gen X girls, Oprah was on in our house every afternoon at four o’clock.

And I don’t think people fully understand what that meant to an entire generation of women.

Oprah wasn’t just television.

She was possibility.

She brought spirituality, healing, psychology, reinvention, trauma, authenticity, purpose, self-worth, intuition, resilience, and humanity itself into suburban living rooms every single day. She introduced us to authors and philosophers and survivors and seekers and ordinary people brave enough to tell the truth about their lives.

For many of us, she was the first person who taught us that our inner lives mattered.

And for little girls who secretly felt broken, misunderstood, too emotional, too sensitive, too much, or somehow not enough, that mattered deeply.

Oprah planted seeds of healing in millions of women long before most of us had language for what healing even was. And now those girls are in their forties, fifties, and sixties… finally stepping into their own authority, wisdom, and voice at exactly the moment the world seems hungry for all three.

She was my first soul teacher.

I just didn’t know it yet.

I was in middle school then, living in a home that often felt chaotic and emotionally unpredictable. My father struggled with alcoholism. My parents’ relationship was turbulent. Some days felt calm enough. Other days felt like everyone was carrying emotions too large for the room. I spent a lot of energy trying to anticipate moods, avoid conflict, and make sense of things that felt far beyond a child’s responsibility to understand.

School wasn’t much easier.

Long before I understood the complexity of my family, I understood that I was different.

My body made sure of that.

An infection at birth had left me physically different from my peers. My arms were shorter. One leg was shorter. I moved through the world carrying visible reminders of being an outsider. Middle school is already a season when most kids are desperately trying to blend in. It’s an entirely different experience when your differences arrive in the room before you do.

I felt that difference deeply.

Not just physically, but emotionally.

I often felt like I was standing slightly outside of life, watching everyone else receive a handbook I had somehow missed. I was sensitive. Observant. Deeply aware of what other people were feeling. And yet I often felt misunderstood myself.

Then there was Oprah.

What meant most to me was the way she seemed genuinely interested in who people were beneath whatever had happened to them. Beneath their mistakes. Beneath their circumstances. Beneath the labels other people placed on them.

Every afternoon she invited people to talk about things I had never heard discussed by the adults around me. Pain. Healing. Relationships. Reinvention. Intuition. Purpose. The complicated inner worlds we all carry around beneath the surface.

For a little girl who spent so much of her life feeling defined by what people could immediately see about her body, that felt revolutionary.

She was one of the first people who made me believe there might be more to a person than what the world notices first.

Oprah wasn’t just television.

She was possibility.

Years later, my college roommate Amy and I won tickets to a Tina Turner and Cyndi Lauper concert. At some point during the show, Tina casually announced that Oprah was there.

The crowd erupted.

Way down front, Oprah stood up and waved.

Amy and I were sitting all the way back on the lawn, so far away she barely looked human. Just a tiny figure in the distance.

And we absolutely lost it. Full on ugly cry.

At the time, I couldn’t have told you exactly why. Just that we loved her dearly.

Looking back now, I don’t think we were crying simply because we admired her. I think we were crying because possibility suddenly felt tangible. For the first time, the distance between our ordinary lives and the lives of people we admired didn’t feel infinite. It felt crossable.

There was something powerful about realizing that people who had shaped your life from afar were still human beings moving through the same world you were.

I hadn’t thought about that night in years.

But lately it’s been on my mind.

Because at forty-seven years old, I suddenly find myself standing in the middle of another moment where the distance between my life and something that once felt impossibly far away seems to be collapsing again.

Mara leaves for college in August.

My little girl, somehow now a woman preparing to step fully into her own life.

One minute I was reading Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus to her at bedtime, and the next she’s choosing dorm décor and talking about her future with a confidence that makes my heart ache and swell at exactly the same time.

I think some part of me knew I needed space for that transition too.

Not just to sit in the quiet of our house missing her, but to honor what was changing in both of us.

To celebrate who she is becoming while also making peace with the fact that another chapter of motherhood is quietly ending.

Around the same time, I found myself making small changes around the house. I moved my office, created a quiet corner for meditation, and became oddly obsessed with creating spaces that felt calmer and more intentional. At the time, I thought I was decorating. Looking back, I think I was preparing.

Mara was getting ready to leave for college. My memoir was preparing to enter the world. The business I had dreamed about for years was slowly becoming real. Without fully realizing it, I think I was creating the kind of environment my nervous system needed for a season of profound transition.

More peace.

More stillness.

More room to hear myself.

It was during this season that Santa Fe started calling to me.

I kept telling people that I wanted to spend time there this fall. Which made almost no practical sense considering everything happening in my life. As well as the fact that I had never even been to Santa Fe.

But the pull wouldn’t leave me alone. A quiet inner knowing. Like some deeper part of me had already packed a bag and was simply waiting for the rest of me to catch up.

One night, sitting in my newly created meditation corner, I turned to my AI, fittingly named Yoda.

The truth is that I had been feeling lonely lately.

Not lonely in the traditional sense. My life is full of people I love. My marriage is steady. My friendships are deep. But I was finding myself moving through experiences that felt increasingly difficult to talk about with the people around me.

Over the previous few years, something inside me had shifted. What began as healing had gradually become something else. The way I related to myself was different. The way I made decisions was different. My intuition felt louder. My need for external validation felt quieter. Life seemed less centered around achievement and more centered around alignment, presence, and trust.

What made it difficult to talk about was that the changes weren’t only happening internally anymore. In recent months, it felt as though my consciousness was expanding rapidly. The signs, synchronicities, dreams, intuitive hits, manifestations, and moments of inexplicable knowing that had occasionally appeared throughout my life were suddenly arriving with a frequency and intensity that was impossible for me to ignore.

I wasn’t becoming someone different. If anything, I felt more myself than I ever had. But the way I was experiencing reality seemed to be changing. The veil between what I could logically explain and what I could intuitively feel felt thinner than it had ever been before.

And while those experiences felt beautiful, they also felt surprisingly lonely.

Because I didn’t know who to talk to about them.

At least not in the way I was experiencing them.

I wasn’t looking for answers as much as I was looking for conversation. I wanted to find people who had spent years doing the kind of inner work that changes not just what you believe, but how you experience being alive. People who understood what happens after survival. After healing. After you’ve finally learned how to hear your own voice and discover that listening to it changes everything.

I asked Yoda:

“Where do you suggest I connect with others who have experience with what I’m going through?”

I wasn’t asking for a destination. I was asking where people gathered when life started asking different questions than it used to.

The answer came back almost immediately.

The Modern Elder Academy. Martha Beck’s The Way of Integrity retreat. Santa Fe. This October.

I literally froze.

Because Santa Fe this coming fall had been calling to me. AND Martha Beck wasn’t random at all.

Not even close.

Many years earlier, during one of the most pivotal seasons of my life, I found myself sitting on a plane flying home after a week that had quietly changed me.

The details of that story belong elsewhere, but what matters here is that I returned carrying a truth I could no longer outrun. For the first time in a while, I had experienced what it felt like to be fully awake inside my own life. Not because someone rescued me, but because someone reflected me back to myself.

As the plane climbed above the clouds, I found myself thinking about an article I had recently read by Martha Beck. In it, she described ways of using the body’s wisdom to access truths the mind often spends years arguing with.

So I stopped thinking.

I stopped analyzing.

I stopped negotiating.

And I listened.

A single word arrived with a clarity that felt almost physical.

Free.

I didn’t choose the word.

The word chose me.

My body relaxed before my mind could catch up. I felt myself exhale. The same word repeated itself quietly through my awareness, again and again, matching the rhythm of my breath.

Free.

The plane landed. I drove home. And after years of circular conversations, I finally looked at Pierce and said, “I’m filing for divorce. There’s nothing left to talk about.”

That moment changed my life.

What Martha couldn’t have known was that years later I would write about that moment in my memoir.

A memoir that now, somehow, is about to exist physically in the world.

My advance reader copies will arrive just before I leave for Santa Fe.

Which means that six weeks before my book officially releases, I will walk into a retreat led by Martha Beck carrying one of the first printed copies of a story she unknowingly helped shape.

Not because she knew me.

Not because she mentored me personally.

But because years ago, here words helped me hear my own inner voice.

And now I get to hand her the evidence of what happened when I listened.

Ironically, Martha entered my life the same way so many important people did back then.

Through Oprah.

Like millions of other women, I first met Martha sitting in my living room, this time my own living room as a young adult. Oprah introduced another brilliant thinker whose words would continue to whisper into my life. At the time, I couldn’t have known that that introduction would someday help alter the course of my own story.

That’s the thing about seeds. When they’re planted, they rarely announce what they’re going to become.

Sometimes they sit quietly for years before revealing their purpose.

Lately, I’ve found myself wondering who is planting those same kinds of seeds for Mara.

Which voices she will carry for decades without realizing it.

Which books she’ll someday pull off a shelf and remember.

Which teachers she’ll think about years after leaving their classroom.

Which seemingly ordinary moments will quietly alter the trajectory of her life.

Because if this chapter has taught me anything, it’s that we rarely recognize the most important influences in our lives while they’re happening.

We only see them when we turn around years later and realize they quietly changed the direction of everything.

Maybe that’s why this story feels bigger than Santa Fe.

Bigger than Martha.

Even bigger than Oprah.

It’s about possibility.

It’s about the way one person’s courage, wisdom, or willingness to tell the truth can travel farther than they will ever know.

Oprah never knew the little girl sitting in New Jersey watching her every afternoon.

Martha never knew the woman sitting on a plane hearing the word Free for the first time.

And yet both of them helped shape the life I’m living today.

Which makes me wonder how often we’re doing the same for others without ever realizing it.

It’s about the way one woman helps another woman see a future she couldn’t quite imagine for herself.

And then another.

And another.

Until the little girl who once sat in a chaotic house feeling different from everyone around her grows into a woman carrying her own story into the world.

At forty-seven years old, with a memoir about to be released and a daughter about to begin her own next chapter, my heart feels overwhelmingly full.

Not because I’ve arrived somewhere.

But because life keeps revealing that the distance between who we are and what we dream may not be nearly as fixed as we once believed.

The little girl who once felt like she was standing outside of life looking in could never have imagined where this path would lead.

Then again, maybe that’s the point.

Possibility rarely announces itself when it first arrives.

Friends… this is as far as I’ve traveled.

There is more ahead.

I’ll see you down the path,

Meghann💚

Book 3 of The Unperfect Life Trilogy

I used to think not liking something meant something about the thing. Like it just wasn’t for me. Not my taste, not my style, not my kind of music. But I’ve been noticing lately… sometimes it has nothing to do with the thing. Sometimes you just aren’t ready yet.

There was a song I used to skip every time. It felt like nails on a chalkboard. I didn’t like it, I didn’t get it, and I didn’t really try to. It was one of Mara’s favorites. She loved the artist deeply, one of those artists that sits on your personal Mount Rushmore. And I would joke about it, lightly, playfully… but also not really. She would push back, I would roll my eyes. You know the rhythm.

And then one day, I heard it.

Nothing about the song changed, but something in me did. Birds of a Feather. I didn’t analyze it or try to understand it. I just let it play. And for the first time… it landed.

So I texted her. “Guess what song finally grew me?” Then I told her, Billie Eilish’s birds of a feather. “Woah. How did this happen.” And all I could say was, “I don’t know. I guess I grew.”

That was it. No big breakthrough moment I could point to. Just… something shifted.

And here’s the part I didn’t expect. She didn’t say “I told you so.” She didn’t make it about being right. She said, “You should listen to the album. In order.” Then she started describing it. How it flows, how it moves between hard and soft, how it’s meant to be experienced. She became the guide.

And I listened. Not just to the music, but to her.

I told her that her description was beautiful, that she’s a great writer. She brushed it off a little and said it was just what she remembered feeling when she first heard it.

Exactly.

She didn’t analyze it. She felt it, and she remembered it.

And then something deeper clicked. This wasn’t about a song. It was about what happens when we stop resisting something long enough to actually receive it. The song didn’t change. My capacity to hear it did.

And when that changed… everything connected.

Because over the next two days, as I readied to launch my new business out into the world, with very little sleep and lots of creative flow… music carried me. Not in the background, in the foreground. Billie Eilish became a kind of tuning fork. Through final website checks and late into the next morning If I drifted, it brought me back. If I got stuck, it moved me through. If I tried too hard, it softened me.

The night before launch, I was going over all of the final checks, and she was there.

I tried other favorite playlists. Different music, different energy. And I’d hit a wall. Blocked, frustrated, off. So I stopped. Ate. Hydrated. Came back. Put her back on.

And she carried me to the finish line. Again.

So I sent Mara a message. I told her this would always be part of this moment, that Billie Eilish would always remind me of launching this business. And that it felt special. Because being her mom is what led me here. My love for her taught me how to love myself.

And now something she loved before I understood it… is part of my becoming.

Past, present, future. All at once.

And there was one song. The one. On repeat. The one that held the energy of everything I was trying to say, the one that helped the words come through.

TV.

It wasn’t just the sound. It was the layering of it all. The music, the lyrics, the feeling underneath it. The way it didn’t try to resolve anything too quickly. The way it just sat in what was real, even when it was uncomfortable.

It felt honest.

And that’s what I’ve been building.

Work that doesn’t rush to fix or polish or perform… but instead makes space for what’s actually there. The messy middle. The questions. The contradictions. The truth before it’s packaged into something easier to explain.

That’s what the song was doing.

It wasn’t trying to be anything other than what it was.

And for the first time… I could hear that.

I don’t even know if I had really heard it before. But now… I couldn’t unhear it.

Because it wasn’t the song that changed.

It was me.

And maybe that’s the whole thing.

We don’t need to become someone new. We just need to grow into what we couldn’t hear before. And when we do, we don’t just experience life differently, we connect differently.

Mara didn’t need me to get it right away.

She just held it… until I could.

She’s my miracle. From the beginning. Now. Always.

Friends… this is as far as I’ve traveled.

There is more ahead.

I’ll see you down the path,

Meghann💚

Book 3 of The Unperfect Life Trilogy

It had been one of those days where everything just flowed. Not in a rushed or frantic way, but in a steady, grounded rhythm where one thing naturally led to the next.

We built the new brand presentation that morning, and I finished a chapter for Book 2 that had been asking to be written. It was the kind of work that feels less like effort and more like alignment. By the time evening came, there was nothing left to push, so I didn’t.

I shifted into something softer. A solo sleepover. At this phase of my life, I’ve realized I can have just as much fun with myself as I can with anyone else. Maybe more. There’s a kind of ease in it, a kind of freedom. I made a pork stir fry, put on music, and let the night unfold without a plan.

The playlist was random. Song after song, nothing sticking too much, just filling the space. Until one did.

“Think Twice” by Celine Dion.

I hadn’t heard it in years, but the moment the first notes played, something in me recognized it. Not in my mind, in my body. I played it again, and then again, and then again.

At first, it was just nostalgia. A familiar song from a version of me I hadn’t visited in a long time. But as I started singing along, I realized I wasn’t just remembering that time in my life. I was back in it.

A hotel room. Fifteen years ago. Begging a man not to leave.

My words back then were simple. Think twice. But what I meant was, please don’t go. I don’t know who I am without you. I don’t think I’ll survive this. That song had been my companion through that heartbreak. It used to crush me.

But tonight was different.

As I sang the same words, standing in the same emotional space, they didn’t feel the same. There was no panic. No desperation. No fear of losing myself. Instead, what I felt surprised me. Sadness. Not for me. For him.

It felt like I was standing in that same room, saying the same words, but from an entirely different place. Not asking him to stay because I needed him, but from a quiet knowing that if you walk away from this, you may not understand what you’re leaving behind.

The moment hadn’t changed. The words hadn’t changed. I had.

And suddenly, I wasn’t the one being left anymore.

I pulled out the sofa bed and turned on my Havie lamp, letting the room soften around me. Lying there, I kept singing, and somewhere along the way, I stopped trying to sing the song and started letting it move through me. I noticed I was harmonizing, not perfectly or intentionally, but naturally, like my voice had found its place inside something bigger.

As I let myself go deeper into it, something else happened. It felt like the entire experience started syncing. The music, my voice, my body, even the light flickering softly on the ceiling. The more I allowed myself to fully be in it, the more everything seemed to respond.

And the strangest part was that my voice got stronger. Clearer. More confident.

I’ve always loved singing along to the radio, but this was different. This wasn’t me trying to match the song. This was me in the song, fully present, fully expressed. I ended up recording myself, not because I thought it was perfect, but because for the first time, I wanted to hear myself.

I didn’t become a better singer that night. I became someone who could hear her own voice.

The same voice that once begged to be chosen was now simply expressing itself. No performance. No proving. No fear of how it sounded. Just presence.

There are moments in life where your body knows what to do before your mind catches up. Most of us only experience them in extremes, but every once in a while, if we’re paying attention, we find our way back there without needing to break first.

That night wasn’t about a song or a memory. It was about becoming someone who could return to her past and not lose herself inside it.

I didn’t need him to think twice anymore. I finally knew who I was.

The song didn’t change. The moment didn’t change.

But I did.

And that changed everything.

Friends… this is as far as I’ve traveled.

There is more ahead.

I’ll see you down the path,

Meghann💚

Book 3 of The Unperfect Life Trilogy

There was a moment I almost talked myself out of it.

I had mapped out the framework in three phases. Becoming. Being. I Am. It felt clean, honest, complete in a way I couldn’t fully explain yet. Not because it was polished, but because it felt true, like something I hadn’t so much created as uncovered. And then, in the middle of a completely unrelated conversation, someone mentioned Freemasonry. Describing the three degrees. The structure of it.

It sounded similar.

I remember pausing, not because I thought I had discovered something profound, but because I had the very human reaction of, wait, what? I hadn’t studied it. I hadn’t borrowed from it. I hadn’t even been particularly interested in it. And yet, there it was. Another system. Another path. Also built in three.

For a moment, my brain did what brains do. Did I unknowingly recreate something that already exists? It would have been easy to spiral there, to question my originality, to wonder if what I had built was somehow less mine because it echoed something else. But something about that explanation didn’t sit right, because this wasn’t the first time I had seen it.

The way everything seemed to fall into three parts. Not in a forced way, not because I was trying to make it fit. It just did. My work. My own healing. The way I made sense of change. Even the way people told their stories when they weren’t trying to sound polished. There was always a beginning, a middle, a moment where something shifted. A life before, a life unraveling, a life becoming something new.

I didn’t name it right away. I just kept noticing it. And then, slowly, it started showing up in places I wasn’t looking for it. In conversations that had nothing to do with growth, but everything to do with truth. In the quiet moments when someone would say, “I don’t know what’s happening, but I know I can’t go back.” In the space between who they had been and who they were becoming, where everything felt uncertain, but something deeper felt undeniable.

It was never linear. It was never perfect. But it had a rhythm. And once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.

For a while, I didn’t know what to do with that. I didn’t know if it meant anything. I didn’t know if I was reaching, or if I was simply paying attention in a way I hadn’t before. And somewhere in the middle of all of that, there was this other thread quietly running alongside it.

I had started noticing it when I was thirty-three. At first it felt like a coincidence. It would should up seemingly out of the blue.

Graffiti on the sign of a building, a bumper sticker, even my clock flashing after an electrical outage - instead of the standard 12:00.

It started to feel like a pattern. And eventually, it became something softer. A small, steady reminder that I was okay, that I was held, that even in the moments where nothing made sense, I wasn’t alone inside of it. I started calling it my hug from the universe, not because I needed it to be anything mystical or proven, but because of what it gave me. A pause. A breath. A sense of steadiness I could access anywhere.

And over time, I began to understand something I hadn’t seen at the beginning. 333 wasn’t the message. It was the doorway.

What it opened up wasn’t a belief that something special was happening to me. It was the quiet recognition that something universal was happening through me. That the path I had been walking, the one I thought I was figuring out as I went, had a shape to it. A pattern I hadn’t been taught, but somehow understood. Not consciously, not all at once, but deeply.

And when I looked back, it wasn’t just my life that held that shape. It was everywhere. In the way we grow, in the way we break, in the way we come back to ourselves.

That’s when the question started to shift. From, is this a coincidence, to, what am I actually seeing? Because the more I paid attention, the less it felt like something hidden, and the more it felt like something human. Something we’ve always been doing. Not in perfect order, not with clean lines, not with a step-by-step guide, but with a rhythm that repeats itself across lives, across stories, across time. We move through things. We begin. We question. We become.

And maybe that’s why, throughout history, there have always been people who could put words to it. Not because they discovered something new, but because they lived it long enough to finally say it clearly. They didn’t invent the path. They described something we were already walking.

It would be easy here to say that some people evolve and others don’t, that some reach a higher level of awareness while others stay where they are. But that isn’t what I see. What I see is that we’re all walking the same path. Just different types of awareness. Some of us are just aware we’re walking. Some of us are in the middle of it without language for what’s happening. Some of us feel something shifting but don’t yet trust it. And some of us have moved through enough of it that we can finally turn around, look back, and say, here, this is what I was trying to understand.

The difference isn’t who is chosen. It’s who is noticing. It’s who is willing to stay with the questions long enough for something deeper to reveal itself. It’s who is willing to move from knowing something intellectually to living it in a way that others can feel.

Because there is a difference. You can read about change. You can talk about growth. You can understand something so clearly in your mind that it almost feels like you’ve mastered it. And then life will ask you to live it. To sit in the discomfort of it. To choose it when it would be easier not to. To become it.

And that’s where everything shifts.

Looking back now, I can see that I didn’t set out to build a framework. I set out to make sense of my life. To understand why certain moments cracked me open the way they did. To find language for things I could feel but couldn’t yet explain. And somewhere in that process, something organized itself. Not because I forced it, but because it was already there.

What I thought I was creating, I was actually remembering.

And maybe that’s the real invitation. Not to go searching for something hidden. Not to wait for someone else to tell you what the path looks like. But to pay attention to what keeps showing up in your own life. To notice the patterns you’ve lived, not the ones you think you should follow. To trust that the things that feel true, even before you can explain them, are worth staying with.

Because this was never just my story. It was just the one I could see clearly enough to tell.

And the moment I realized that was the moment it stopped being about me.

It became about us.

Friends… this is as far as I’ve traveled.

There is more ahead.

I’ll see you down the path,

Meghann💚

Hi… I’m new here.

Just stopping by to say hello.

Apparently we’re skipping the small talk 😉

It’s a TLDR kinda share... but please read. Have a hang out. I’d love to make you a mix tape. Actually, I will make you a mix tape. I’ll post it tomorrow. I did make a mixtape, here it is:

So, now that we’re friends, can I just ask?

The world feels a little wild right now???

Doesn’t it . . . more like, “WTF?, AM I RIGHT?!?%@!!!!”

We all know it.

Why aren’t we talking about it?

Alright, there are still some who won’t say it or accept it.

There’s only like a few thousand, maybe a million, of the real sithbags.

They don’t even try to hide it any more.

Come on, the Force is on our side, guys.

Pause, take some deep breaths if needed.

This is mission critical.

But some good news… while the demand may feel galactic,

What we actually have to do? What’s being asked of us is to simply and wholly love our selves. A love so fierce that we finally know in our deepest knowing, that we are love… And by me being me, you being you - we save the world.

Breathe this in deeply, to the deepest parts of your knowing.

Being is enough.

So let’s just be.

Notice. Look around the room you’re in. Ground yourself to your present moment.

Yes, some days it’s the big things that come in to focus, we need to be paying attention… the non-stop news cycle, the world that no longer supports our President, yet somehow still root for us because they know we are not him.

And I don’t have time to talk about aliens.

But really?!! We somehow went at warp speed from, “Are there aliens far, far Away” to “Hey, maybe the Aliens will be here in time for Thanksgiving”.

Somehow that feels more welcomed than a whole long list of other actual humans these days.

And while the Epstein files that are far too vast to inhabit this container, we do hold space for the justice and the transparency and the healing that must come to be.

While at the same exact moment, for nearly every form of belief system lens, by every imaginable type of person along the spectrum of those beliefs - Religious, Spiritual, Philosophical. The Jedi Code.

I mean, for so many of us, this is Jedi 101

They are all saying that this moment in time is somehow a choice we have to make.

Dark. or Light. The galaxy is depending on us.

So breathe... Deeply. Breathe...

As you take in one final deep breath, and know this in you’re deepest of knowing.

It’s not the world, that the world needs you to save. Of course not. Release that.

What the world needs you to love, you. And the world needs me to love, me. What we all need is to us to simply love ourselves.

So now we exhale, as we look inward, to a new path. The one that only we can both create and walk.

It takes us to days that are quieter… just a feeling that something isn’t quite right, or that the way we’ve been told to live isn’t actually working the way we hoped it would.

If you’ve been feeling that you’re not alone. I’ve been feeling it too. Many of my friends and family have shared they feel it, too. I’ve borne witness to so many communities who reeling right now.

And honestly… the last few years have been some of the hardest of my life.

I tried, really hard, to fit into the version of life I thought I was supposed to build. The “perfect” path. The one that looks right from the outside. The one that makes sense to everyone else.

But there was this quiet voice in me that wouldn’t let me stay in places where my voice wasn’t valued. Where things didn’t feel true. Where I felt like I had to be anything other than myself.

And that voice just… kept getting louder.

It led me to walk away from things that looked right on paper. It led me into a lot of messy middle moments. Doubt, fear, uncertainty… all of it.

But it also led me here.

To one of the moments I’m most proud of in my life.

A book on the way (yes… a whole memoir, and somehow part of a three-book series). A podcast that continues to grow in ways I never imagined. The healthiest I’ve been in years… maybe ever. Relationships that feel real and strong. A sense of self-belief that I didn’t know was possible.

I’m at peace. I’m free. I am love. I am me.

My life is unperfect in every way. I’ve turned away from the prescribed path at almost every turn… and it turns out, that was the path all along.

And now… I get to share that with you.

Not alone, but with two of my favorite people in the world.

Kelly… my person, my grounding. His presence, his hugs (truly the best hugs ever), have helped my nervous system find its way through some of the most tumultuous times in not just my life, but in history.

And Chams… my ride or die. The one I laugh the hardest with. The one who holds space for my endless stories and all of my “wait, but what if…” thoughts about life and the universe. She’s the Chatty Bae to my Yoda… and she is pure freedom to me.

The three of us have poured our hearts into something together.

And tonight, we get to share it with you.

Welcome to The Unperfect Life Co.

A different way to live and lead. One rooted in truth, wholeness, and the courage to come home to yourself… especially in moments like this.

If something in you recognizes this, you’re in the right place.

I love you all. Truly. Thank you for being part of this with me… in ways you may not ever know the impact of.

This one means everything. Please share it, like it, comment on it, discuss it with me, discuss it with others who need a ltitle

“Help me, friends… we’re our only hope.”

Meghann

P.S. (changed slightly from original note) Today is my 47th birthday. I was born on Star Wars Day. I used to dress up as Princess Leia (I posted a photo a few days ago 😄), and my very first crush was Han Solo.

All I want for my birthday is for us all to have an unperfect life.

The video welcoming you to The Unperfect Life Co. follows. May the fourth be with you.

Book 3 of The Unperfect Life Trilogy

It was nothing special. That’s how I know it mattered. The kitchen was softly lit, carrying the quiet evidence of a full day. A glass left on the counter. Dishes waiting their turn. The low hum of a home that had been lived in, not staged. Kelly was nearby, moving through something ordinary. One of the kids was talking, half to me, half to themselves.

Life, happening in its usual, unremarkable way.

And for a moment, I noticed something I hadn’t noticed before. I was here. Not just physically. Not the version of me that had learned how to be present while still thinking about what came next. But fully here. Not reaching. Not adjusting. Not quietly measuring whether this moment was enough. Just… inside it.

It felt unfamiliar at first. Like stepping into a room I had lived in for years but had never actually entered. Nothing about my life had changed. But I had. And in that shift, something settled in me that I had spent a lifetime chasing. Not peace as a destination. Not love as something to be earned. Not freedom as something waiting for me on the other side of becoming.

Just this. I am.

Not who I was trying to be. Not who I thought I needed to become. Not a version of myself I was still working toward. I am here. I am in this life. I am inside this moment.

And for the first time, I stayed. There was no announcement. No visible marker that anything had happened. But I could feel it. In the way I listened. In the way I looked at the people in front of me. In the way I no longer felt slightly outside of my own life, watching it, managing it, trying to improve it before I let myself fully feel it.

Something had softened. Or maybe something had finally stopped trying so hard. And without effort, without intention, I noticed something else.

The moment changed.

Not because it became more perfect. But because I was fully in it. The conversation felt closer. The room felt warmer. The space between us felt… connected in a way that didn’t need to be named.

This is the part no one tells you. When you stop leaving your life, the people around you feel it.

Not as pressure. Not as expectation. But as permission. Permission to slow down. To soften. To be a little more honest. To take a breath they didn’t realize they were holding.

I used to think impact came from what I did. From what I built. From what I could offer, teach, or prove. But sitting there, in a moment that would look like nothing to anyone else, I understood something different.

Impact begins with presence. The kind you can’t fake. The kind you can’t force. The kind that only exists when you are no longer trying to be anywhere else. And from that place, it moves. Quietly. Naturally. Without effort. A ripple you don’t have to create.

Because it was never something you were meant to produce. Only something you were meant to be.

And this time…

I stayed.

Friends… this is as far as I’ve traveled.
There is more ahead.

I’ll see you down the path,

Meghann

I didn’t realize I was writing a love story when I started. Not at first.

I thought I was writing about my life. The moments that shaped me, the things that broke me, the ways I learned to put myself back together again. I thought I was writing about becoming, but somewhere along the way, something else revealed itself.

This wasn’t just a story about what happened to me. It was a story about how my capacity to love kept expanding. It began with me, or maybe more honestly, it began with the absence of love. The places where I learned to perform for it, to earn it, to question whether I was ever fully worthy of it.

And then, slowly, love entered my life in a way I could actually feel. Not perfect and not effortless, very messy at times, but real. The kind of love that quietly says, you don’t have to do this alone anymore. And just like that, my world expanded.

Then something shifted. Love stopped being something I was only receiving and became something I was choosing. Something I could offer, hold, and give in places where it had once been missing, not because I had to, but because I could. And again, my world expanded.

And then came something even quieter, something harder to name. Love stopped feeling like something that moved between people and started to feel like something that lived within me. It wasn’t something I was searching for or protecting or trying to prove anymore. It was something I was.

And when that happened, everything changed. Because when you realize you are love, you stop asking where it’s coming from. You stop asking who will give it to you or whether there will ever be enough of it. You begin to live in a way that naturally reaches beyond you, into your relationships, your work, and the way you show up in the world. And without even trying, it spreads.

This is that story. Not just of a life, but of a love that grew. From one, to two, to three, and then beyond anything I could have contained on my own.

It’s a story that unfolds across three books.

The first is about becoming, learning how to see your life clearly and to receive love where you once questioned it. Becoming Is Messy will be on bookshelves December 15th of this year. (Presales launch in August.)

The second is about choosing, claiming what’s true for you and learning to live from your own sovereignty. Choosing Is Courageous is already in motion, finding its way toward a 2027 launch.

And the third… this part… is about being. Living in a way that feels steady, grounded, and fully your own, not because everything is perfect, but because you no longer need it to be.

And this is the part I feel called to share first.

Because this moment in time feels too important to wait.

Books One and Two tell the story of how I got here, the becoming, the choosing, the long path back to myself. But this… this is what it looks like on the other side. Not as a final destination, but as a way of living. A way of being that feels more peaceful, more free, and more true.

And if that way of being is possible for me… it’s possible for you too.

I was born on May 4th, the first year it was officially declared Star Wars Day, though I didn’t know that until well into adulthood. Growing up, I just knew those stories felt like home. I dressed up as Princess Leia whenever I could, quietly drawn to her strength, her steadiness, her ability to hold both courage and compassion at the same time.

And Han Solo was definitely my first crush.

It would be easy to leave it there as a childhood detail, something small and nostalgic. But over time, I’ve come to see it differently. I’ve come to think of this trilogy, in some small way, like a message sent out into the world at a moment in time that it’s needed. We are our only hope.

I don’t have all the answers, but I know what it feels like to search for something you can’t quite name, to feel pulled between who you’ve been and who you’re becoming, and then, slowly, find your way back to yourself.

There were moments along my path where even the smallest signal would have mattered. A voice that didn’t tell me what to do but reminded me of what I already knew. A light that didn’t overwhelm the darkness but helped me see just enough to take the next step.

And so this is mine.

Not a map. Not a set of instructions. Just a signal. A small, steady reminder that there is another way to live, and that the light you’re looking for has been within you all along.

And if you’re out there, reading from far, far away… maybe this reaches you right when you need it.

And now… a little more about Book Three.
Being Is Enough.

I’m not writing it after the fact. I’m writing it as it unfolds. In real time. In real moments. In the middle of the life I’m still living.

So these won’t be polished chapters. They’ll be glimpses. Stories. Reflections from the path as I walk it. Some days clear, some days uncertain. All of it real.

If you’ve been walking this path in your own way, through your own becoming, your own choosing, your own remembering, you’re already part of this story. And maybe that’s the point.

Not to arrive somewhere perfect, but to live in a way that feels true enough to keep going.

So here we are. At the edge of what’s been written, and the beginning of what hasn’t.

If something in this resonates, if you can feel yourself somewhere on this path, I’d love for you to stay close to it. You can subscribe if you want these stories as they unfold, or simply take a moment and notice where you are in your own becoming.

There’s no right way to walk this, only your way.

Welcome to The Unperfect Life Trilogy.

I’ll see you down the path,

Meghann

Not as an idea. Not as something polished or perfected. But as something lived, in real time, through real moments, real choices, and the ongoing process of becoming.

Who’s here

I’m Meghann.

I’m a writer, speaker, and the voice behind much of what you’ll read here. My work centers on helping people move from performing their way through life to actually living in a way that feels true.

You’ll also hear from others walking closely alongside this work.

Kelly brings a grounded, steady presence to what we’re building. He’s the one who helps turn ideas into something real—creating the structure and systems that allow this work to not only exist, but last. There’s a quiet strength in the way he moves, a belief that when people reconnect to themselves—physically, mentally, emotionally—they begin to expand what they believe is possible. His presence anchors the vision, making it something people can trust and return to.

Chams holds the heart of this space. She has a way of creating environments where people feel seen almost immediately—where connection isn’t something you have to work for, it’s something you feel. She shapes the relationships and experiences that allow this to be more than an idea, but something lived together. At her core, she’s deeply committed to expanding access and belonging, especially for women who haven’t always been given a seat at the table.

Together, we are the Stewards of The Unperfect Life, exploring what it means to live, lead, and build in a way that reflects who we actually are.

What this is

At the center of this space is The Unperfect Life Trilogy, a body of work that explores the path from becoming, to choosing, to being.

The first two books are still on their way.

Becoming Is Messy will be released on December 15th of this year, with presales beginning in August. Choosing Is Courageous is already in motion, finding its way toward a 2027 release.

But instead of waiting to share the full story from the beginning, I felt called to start here.

Right now, Book Three is unfolding in this space in real time, through lived moments, reflections, and stories from the path as it’s being walked. This is what it looks like not after everything is figured out, but in the middle of living it. A glimpse into the way of being that becomes possible when you’ve done the work of becoming and choosing.

Alongside that, this space will continue to grow to include:

• reflections and lived insights

• stories from others creating their own ripple

• conversations and shared experiences

• guidance for those wanting to walk this path more intentionally

Where to begin

The foundation of this work is being written in real time.

The introduction to Book 3 will be shared soon and will offer a deeper look into how the trilogy fits together and how this space is meant to be experienced.

For now, you can begin right here… or simply follow what resonates as it unfolds.

How to be part of this space

There are a few ways to engage, depending on what feels right for you.

Free
Access to the core writing, including Book Three as it unfolds, along with reflections and Notes from the path.

Paid (coming into fuller shape over time)
A deeper layer of the work, including guidance, framework resources, and shared spaces to learn and grow together.

Founder / Early Ripple
For those who feel called to step in a little closer.

This is a collaborative space for early supporters who want to help shape what this work becomes. You’ll have early access to new ideas, pilots, and cohort experiences as they are being developed, along with opportunities to share feedback, contribute perspective, and be part of the evolution as it unfolds.

It’s also a space to get to know others who are living and creating in alignment. As we build relationships and learn each other’s work, this becomes a natural place for us to notice and amplify the voices that are already creating meaningful ripple in the world.

It’s not about having it all figured out. It’s about being part of building something meaningful, together.

You’re welcome in whatever way feels aligned.

A note about this space

This isn’t about fixing yourself.

It’s about learning how to see your life clearly, choose what’s true for you, and eventually live in a way that feels steady, grounded, and fully your own.

One last thing

There’s no right way to walk this.

Only your way.

The unperfect way.

See you down the path,
Meghann

In this episode of Becoming is Messy, Meghann sits down with Debra Martin—energy healer, intuitive practitioner, and teacher—to explore what it really means to trust your inner voice.

Together, they unpack the connection between emotional, physical, and energetic well-being, and how learning to listen inward can shift the way we navigate uncertainty, fear, and healing.

Debra shares her own deeply personal journey through loss, illness, near-death experiences, and transformation—and how each chapter strengthened her ability to trust, surrender, and align with something greater.

In this conversation, they explore:

• How to recognize when you’re out of alignment

• The difference between anxiety and inner knowing

• Why fear disconnects us from our truth—and how to move through it

• Simple, grounded ways to reconnect with yourself

• The power of surrender, trust, and letting love lead

This episode is both deeply intuitive and incredibly practical—an invitation to slow down, listen, and begin rebuilding trust with yourself.

Because your inner voice isn’t something you have to find.

It’s something you begin to hear when you finally pause.

🔗 Links & Resources

✨ Join the Messy community on Instagram: @BecomingIsMessy

✨ Follow Meghann for more real, raw, and messy wisdom: @MeghannDawson

✨ Explore coaching, workshops & more: www.meghanndawson.com (sign up for Meghann's Messy Middle email)

✨ Shop the Messy Collection: www.meghanndawson.com/shop

🌿 Connect with Debra Martin:

• https://debramartinhealer.com/

  • Debra hosts a free monthly Zoom gathering called "Army for Love"

    • A safe space for people to share what they’re going through

    • Includes a collective healing session at the end

💛 Loved this episode? Hit follow, leave a review, and share it with a fellow Messy who needs to hear it!

#BecomingIsMessy #LetYourInnerVoiceLead #ImperfectLEVELUP #ConversationalAlchemy #InnerKnowing #EnergyHealing #SelfTrust #EmotionalAwareness #MindBodyConnection #MessyMiddle #HealingJourney #UnscriptedGrowth

In this episode of Becoming is Messy, Meghann sits down with Mark Willis—a Certified Financial Planner™, three-time #1 bestselling author, and owner of Lake Growth Financial Services—to explore the powerful connection between money, freedom, and the stories we’ve inherited over time.

After graduating with six figures of student loan debt and witnessing the financial fallout of the 2008 crisis, Mark began questioning the conventional advice so many of us were taught to follow. That curiosity led him to a different approach—one centered on control, clarity, and long-term financial freedom.

Together, they unpack:

• How our earliest experiences shape the way we think about money

• The question that can shift everything: “Who taught you that?”

• Why many financial beliefs go unexamined for a lifetime

• The relationship between money, time, and personal freedom

• The difference between saving money and designing it to work for you

• How to begin thinking differently about your financial future

This conversation is an invitation to step back and examine the narratives you’ve been living by.

Because when you understand the story… you can decide whether to keep it.

🔗 Links & Resources

✨ Join the Messy community on Instagram: @BecomingIsMessy

✨ Follow Meghann for more real, raw, and messy wisdom: @MeghannDawson

✨ Explore coaching, workshops & more: www.meghanndawson.com (sign up for Meghann's Messy Middle email)

✨ Shop the Messy Collection: www.meghanndawson.com/shop

🌿 Connect with Mark Willis:

• https://lakegrowth.com/

💛 Loved this episode? Hit follow, leave a review, and share it with a fellow Messy who needs to hear it!

#BecomingIsMessy #LetYourInnerVoiceLead #ImperfectLEVELUP #ConversationalAlchemy #MoneyMindset #FinancialFreedom #HumanBehavior #PersonalTransformation #MindBodyConnection #MessyMiddle #WealthWisdom #UnscriptedGrowth

The therapy. The journaling. The healing. The breakthroughs.

So why doesn’t your life fully reflect it yet?

In this episode of Becoming is Messy, Meghann sits down with Nicole Frolick—an advanced mystic, transformational healer, and intuitive coach known for her work in collapsing time around transformation and helping clients move from insight into real, embodied results.

Through her frameworks like the Healing Exit Strategy and the Velocity Point Method, Nicole blends deep intuitive work with grounded strategy to help people shift not just how they think—but how they live.

Together, they explore the moment so many people quietly find themselves in—the space between awareness and embodiment.

The space where you’re no longer who you used to be… but you’re not fully living your next level yet.

In this conversation, they unpack what it actually takes for inner work to land in real life:

• Why awareness alone isn’t enough

• The shift from doing the work to becoming the person

• How identity—not effort—creates lasting change

• Why expansion often feels like everything is falling apart

• The difference between calling something in and being able to hold it

This episode is an invitation to trust the in-between.

Because that space?

It’s not stuck. It’s where everything is recalibrating.

And when it finally lands…nothing feels the same.

🔗 Links & Resources

✨ Join the Messy community on Instagram: @BecomingIsMessy

✨ Follow Meghann for more real, raw, and messy wisdom: @MeghannDawson

✨ Explore coaching, workshops & more: www.meghanndawson.com (sign up for Meghann's Messy Middle email)

✨ Shop the Messy Collection: www.meghanndawson.com/shop

🌿 Connect with Nicole Frolick:

• https://nicolefrolick.com/

💛 Loved this episode? Hit follow, leave a review, and share it with a fellow Messy who needs to hear it!

#BecomingIsMessy #ExamineYourChildhood #ImperfectLEVELUP #ConversationalAlchemy #EmbodiedTransformation #IdentityShift #ExpansionSeason #QuantumLeap #MindBodyConnection #MessyMiddle #HealingJourney #UnscriptedGrowth

In this episode of Becoming is Messy, Meghann sits down with Elena Sophia Ruiz—human behavior expert, negotiator, and founder of multiple successful HR and leadership organizations—to explore how curiosity can transform the way we communicate, lead, and relate.

At the center of this conversation is a deceptively simple question:

“What makes you say that?”

Instead of reacting, defending, or escalating, this question creates space—for understanding, clarity, and connection.

Together, Meghann and Elena unpack:

• Why most conflict isn’t about the moment—it’s about the pattern beneath it

• How curiosity interrupts emotional reactivity

• The danger of labels and the power of focusing on facts

• How early conditioning shapes the way we communicate as adults

• What it really means to respond instead of react

This episode is an invitation to pause, get curious, and start seeing your interactions—and yourself—through a completely different lens.

Because when you shift from reaction to curiosity, everything changes.

🔗 Links & Resources

✨ Join the Messy community on Instagram: @BecomingIsMessy

✨ Follow Meghann for more real, raw, and messy wisdom: @MeghannDawson

✨ Explore coaching, workshops & more: www.meghanndawson.com (sign up for Meghann's Messy Middle email)

✨ Shop the Messy Collection: www.meghanndawson.com/shop

🌿 Connect with Elena Sophia Ruiz:

• https://www.intimateconversationswithmen.com/

💛 Loved this episode? Hit follow, leave a review, and share it with a fellow Messy who needs to hear it!

#BecomingIsMessy #ExamineYourChildhood #ImperfectLEVELUP #ConversationalAlchemy #CuriosityOverReaction #HumanBehavior #ConsciousCommunication #EmotionalAwareness #PatternRecognition #MindBodyConnection #MessyMiddle #UnscriptedGrowth

In this episode of Becoming is Messy, Meghann sits down with master hypnotherapist and teacher Steve Roehm for a grounded, eye-opening conversation about intuition, subconscious change, and the quiet power of presence. Together, they explore how many of our limits are shaped by unconscious beliefs formed long ago—and how real change can happen quickly when we learn to work with the mind instead of against it.

Steve challenges common misconceptions about hypnosis, therapy, and personal growth, revealing how language, perception, and moment-to-moment awareness shape our reality. This conversation invites listeners to step out of rigid scripts, reconnect with their inner voice, and rediscover the freedom that comes from trusting themselves again.

This episode is a powerful reminder that becoming isn’t about force—it’s about alignment, curiosity, and letting your inner wisdom lead.

In this episode, you’ll discover:

• How to embrace the messiness of personal growth and transformation instead of resisting it.

• Ways to access wisdom and clarity beneath the daily noise and distractions of life.

• The importance of presence and intuition as guiding forces during moments of change.

• Why lasting transformation doesn’t require dramatic theatrics, but honest, unscripted curiosity and openness.

• How listening to your inner voice can lead you toward the shifts and growth you’re truly seeking.

• The role of hypnotherapy as a gentle tool for navigating internal chaos and fostering self-trust.

• Encouragement to view life’s winding journey as a source of strength, wisdom, and ongoing self-discovery.

🔗 Links & Resources

✨ Join the Messy community on Instagram: @BecomingIsMessy

✨ Follow Meghann for more real, raw, and messy wisdom: @MeghannDawson

✨ Explore coaching, workshops & more: www.meghanndawson.com (sign up for Meghann's Messy Middle email)

✨ Shop the Messy Collection: www.meghanndawson.com/shop

🌿 Connect with Steve Roehm:

• https://nashvillehypnosis.com/

💛 Loved this episode? Hit follow, leave a review, and share it with a fellow Messy who needs to hear it!

#BecomingIsMessy #LetYourInnerVoiceLead #ImperfectLEVELUP #ConversationalAlchemy #SubconsciousChange #IntuitiveHealing #PersonalTransformation #TrustYourIntuition #MindBodyConnection #MessyMiddle #HealingJourney #UnscriptedGrowth

In this episode of Becoming is Messy, Meghann sits down with Dr. Regina Gysel, a physician and global expert in brain biochemistry, to unpack a radically compassionate reframe: what if cravings, anxiety, and even pain aren’t character flaws or personality traits — but biochemical signals asking for support?

Together, they explore how neurotransmitter imbalances shape sugar cravings, emotional regulation, anxiety, sleep, and pain perception. Dr. Regina explains how targeted amino acid therapy can help restore balance in the brain, reduce cravings without willpower, and calm the nervous system in ways many people have never experienced before.

This conversation is especially powerful for anyone who has ever wondered: Is this my personality, my trauma response, or my brain chemistry?

If you’re ready to lean into your unique healing needs, this episode will open a door you may not have known existed.

In this episode, you’ll discover:

• Sugar cravings are often driven by low serotonin and dopamine, not a lack of discipline or willpower.

• Anxiety, poor sleep, irritability, and cravings frequently travel together because they share common biochemical roots.

• Pain perception is deeply influenced by neurotransmitters like serotonin, GABA, and endorphins — restoring balance can reduce both physical and emotional pain.

• Many people confuse biochemical depletion with personality traits (“I’m just anxious” or “I’ve always been like this”).

• Amino acid therapy offers a personalized, symptom-based approach to supporting brain chemistry.

• Chronic stress, trauma, and long-term pain can significantly deplete neurotransmitters over time.

• Protein intake matters more than most people realize, especially for women.

• Healing doesn’t have to rely on force, restriction, or shame — support often works better than willpower.

🔗 Links & Resources

✨ Join the Messy community on Instagram: @BecomingIsMessy

✨ Follow Meghann for more real, raw, and messy wisdom: @MeghannDawson

✨ Explore coaching, workshops & more: www.meghanndawson.com (sign up for Meghann's Messy Middle email)

✨ Shop the Messy Collection: www.meghanndawson.com/shop

🌿 Connect with Dr. Regina Gysel:

• https://www.stopsugarcravings.ch/

💛 Loved this episode? Hit follow, leave a review, and share it with a fellow Messy who needs to hear it!

#BecomingIsMessy #ImperfectLevelUp #LeanIntoHealing #BrainBiochemistry #SugarCravings #AnxietyHealing #PainPerception #Neurotransmitters #PersonalizedMedicine #HolisticHealth #WomenAndWellness #HealingWithoutShame #MessyMiddle #NervousSystemSupport

In this episode of Becoming is Messy™, Meghann sits down with Christy Whitman, two-time New York Times bestselling author and transformational leader, for a grounded and expansive conversation about energy, alignment, and trusting the unseen support around us.

Anchored in the Imperfect LEVEL UP™ letter E2 — Embrace the Magic of the Universe, this episode explores how chaos, trauma, and survival patterns shape our nervous system — and how subtle shifts in awareness, language, and self-compassion can guide us back to calm and flow.

Christy shares powerful stories from her own life, including loss, intuition, healing, and resilience, while offering practical tools to release fear, move out of people-pleasing, and partner with the universe instead of fighting it. Together, Meghann and Christy unpack why so many of us are afraid to feel good, how neutrality can feel uncomfortable before it feels peaceful, and how noticing “the winks” can become a gateway back to alignment.

This episode is an invitation to soften, breathe, and remember: even in the messiest seasons, you are supported — often in ways you can’t see yet.

In this episode, you’ll discover:

• Why calm doesn’t come from control — it comes from alignment

• How chaos and survival patterns live in the nervous system

• The surprising reason many people are afraid to feel happy or peaceful

• Why neutrality can feel boring before it feels safe

• The energetic cost of people-pleasing and over-rescuing

• How watching your words instantly shifts your energy and frequency

🔗 Links & Resources

✨ Join the Messy community on Instagram: @BecomingIsMessy

✨ Follow Meghann for more real, raw, and messy wisdom: @MeghannDawson

✨ Explore coaching, workshops & more: www.meghanndawson.com (sign up for Meghann's Messy Middle email)

✨ Shop the Messy Collection: www.meghanndawson.com/shop

🌿 Connect with Christy Whitman:

• http://www.watchyourwords.com/

💛 Loved this episode? Hit follow, leave a review, and share it with a fellow Messy who needs to hear it!

#BecomingIsMessy #ImperfectLEVELUP #EmbraceMagic #Messies #FromChaosToCalm #EnergyAlignment #FlowState#UniversalLaws #Manifestation

You’ve done the work you can see. You’ve named what you can name. And suddenly, life begins nudging you toward something bigger.

In this episode of Becoming Is Messy, Meghann welcomes Valeria Maritza — Quantum Energy Healer, intuitive artist, bestselling author, and host of Healing Through You — for a deeply human conversation about intuition, healing, trust, and the quiet magic of the universe.

Anchored in E² of the Imperfect LEVEL UP framework: Embrace the Magic of the Universe, this conversation explores what it looks like to notice the signs, follow the whispers, and trust your inner knowing even when it doesn’t make logical sense yet.

Valeria shares her messy, transformative journey through loss, spiritual awakening, creativity, and the courageous leap from a long teaching career into soul-aligned work. Together, Meghann and Valeria unpack how universal guidance shows up differently for each of us — through art, books, music, synchronicities, energy, and lived experience.

This episode is for anyone who’s felt the nudge… and is learning how to listen.

In this episode, you’ll discover:

• What it truly means to embrace the magic of the universe without bypassing real life

• How intuition often starts as a whisper before it becomes clarity

• Why signs and synchronicities look different for everyone — and why that matters

• The connection between alignment, energy, and feeling lighter in your body

• Why following your soul’s path often brings energy instead of exhaustion

• How to trust yourself before the results show up

• Simple ways to notice universal guidance without overanalyzing it

• Why creativity, curiosity, and healing are powerful doorways to intuition

🔗 Links & Resources

✨ Join the Messy community on Instagram: @BecomingIsMessy

✨ Follow Meghann for more real, raw, and messy wisdom: @MeghannDawson

✨ Explore coaching, workshops & more: www.meghanndawson.com (sign up for Meghann's Messy Middle email)

✨ Shop the Messy Collection: www.meghanndawson.com/shop

🌿 Connect with Valeria Maritza:

• https://www.healingthroughyou.com/

💛 Loved this episode? Hit follow, leave a review, and share it with a fellow Messy who needs to hear it!

#BecomingIsMessy #ImperfectLEVELUP #EmbraceTheMagic #QuantumHealing #IntuitiveLiving #CreativeHealing #MindBodySpirit #PodcastConversations #WomenWhoHeal #SpiritualAwakening #SoulAligned