Ladies, it's time to take up space.

Here’s something to think about - space.

Actually, no - space is something we should be talking about, all of the time.

Space is something we should be changing behavior around, every day.

I’m a tall woman, standing at 5 feet ten inches tall, and some days, I love wearing a wedge or a heel, so that puts me closer to six feet tall. Unrelated, I also travel on airplanes a lot. Most of the time, these two don’t intersect because I understand that I’m tall, seats are small, legroom is tight and you know what? That’s just the way it is. That’s air travel.

A few weeks ago, I was on a short flight (thank goodness) from Portland to Seattle. These thirty-five minute flights invite you to small planes, four seats per row separated by a faded burgundy aisle. I board the plane, wedge my travel bag under the seat in front of me with enough space for my legs to fit in that space although not comfortably. I snagged a window seat, because the views on this route are magical. I remove my heavy coat, bundle it up under my arm next to the window, and plug my headphones in and continue listening to whatever true crime podcast had already downloaded to my iPhone.

All is good and normal, until my passenger friend arrives. He’s also about six feet tall, adorning a business suit and briefcase, glasses and a Starbucks. It’s Portland in the winter, so he also sheds his coat, just shrugging it off of his shoulders and arms so it lands behind him, sleeves cascading over the armrest to my seat.

I say nothing.

He opens the airline magazine, his headphones also in-ear and taking his attention. His left leg slowly leans closer to me, right leg in the other direction. Both arms are on the armrests. He’s taking up my space. We’re probably the same size, perhaps we travel this airline the same amount. We both have places to go. And he’s taking up my space.

I say nothing.

I shrink down, lean in toward the window and watch as he manspreads all over the place.

I am angry and I say nothing. And I do nothing.

The thirty-five minute flight is over. We both stand up, grab our things, and are on our way, probably never to see each other again. But I’ll see someone just like him on my trip home, and on the next trip and the next and probably forever. Because this passenger was just one of so many men, (sorry guys) that take more than their space next to a woman.

Here’s the thing. I realized that I don’t just do this on airplanes, I do this everywhere. I shrink, I adjust, I shift the space I take up depending on what is around me. And I think a lot of women do this. What if we stopped? What if we started taking up the space we deserve, that we are entitled to?

And I get it, sometimes it’s outside of our control and we have to be sensitive to those around us. I’m talking about when the playing field is equal. We should be and act and feel equal too. Because we are.

Here’s the warning to the world. Mr. Passenger Man, I’ll see you in the friendly skies and that seat I paid for, it’s all mine.

XO

Meagan

Falling in love with a four letter word

I did it.

I took the leap. And oh my goodness, it feels good. I'm happier than I've been in a long while. I'm sitting on the couch, hands cupped around my coffee with a smile stretching across my face. I'm staring past the magazine on the coffee table and completely through the turned-off television. I'm not anxious, I'm happy.  Swoon. I'm in love and I don't care who knows it.

I'm head over heels in love...with a four letter word.

It might not really be quite that romantic, but the love and adoration part is certainly true. And the four letter word? Can't.

That's right. Can't. And for you linguists and English Majors out there, I know that can't isn't exactly a four letter word because it's a conjunction and all of that, but stick with me.

I've been reading a lot lately about something called the mental load, and you guys, my mental load is heavy. Really heavy. I don't know why I finally came to this realization, but here's a preview into my month of June and maybe we can figure out together why.

• Multi-night work trips for Meagan: 2
• Single-night work trips for Hubs: 3?
• Losing someone close to us: 2
• Health scare for Hubs: 1
• Hosting a party at our house: 1
• Days without showering or putting on makeup or caring at all about myself: A lot
• Blah blah blah things I can't remember: Infinity

Between the fullness of our calendars, we have to live our lives too. And that means nightly bath time for the little one, making dinners each night, working on personal projects,  trying to fuel some creativity and have a little fun, working on our husband-wife relationship, doing dishes, trying to be good and present parents, yard work (although there's got to be a better name for yard work when you have nearly three acres), spending time with family, seeing close friends, staying active and cleaning our home.

Here's the thing.

I know I'm not the only person on the planet with a full calendar, a busy work life, and I'm not the only person on the planet who tries her best to juggle all of everything. Whether you've got kids or not, there's a lot to going on. I also know I'm not the only person on the planet who drops a ball once in awhile.

And in June, I dropped all of the balls. I felt bad, really bad. I failed. I failed because I tried to do everything. I was standing on a dirty kitchen floor surrounded by dropped balls. Hair in an unwashed messy bun, toddler asking for a second popsicle, which I gave her because, well, easy button.

I can't.

I can't do everything. I just can't. I'm not a magician and I can't pretend that I am. I can't. I can't.

See how much fun that little teeny four letter word is? Can't. (I love you). I can't. Something's gotta give. So, I asked some friends and I looked for recommendations on Facebook and found myself a fabulous house cleaner. She spent the good part of a day cleaning all of the things I've been neglecting and when I finished work, walked through my front door, my house was clean.

Check that off the list. Mental load, lightened.

Because before, I'd get home and immediately start the process of cleaning. And then it's dinner and then it's bathtime and then it's family time and then it's cleaning some more and then it's grown-up relationship time and you guys, I'm tired. And even on the days and weeks and months when everything gets done, it's not all done right or done well and nobody feels good about that either.

Here's my challenge for you.

Fall in love with your four letter word.

• Can't.
• Won't.
• Nope.
• Nada.

Give something up. Stop doing something. I know we can't all afford the luxury of a wonderful fairy to come clean our toilets, but the challenge is to feel okay about saying no. Feel okay about not doing something today, tomorrow, yesterday. I challenge you, moms. I challenge you, single ladies. I challenge you, dads and workaholics, and work from home parents. I challenge you to stop doing just one thing that you feel like you have to do. Find a way around it. Get creative. Ask for help. Figure out the difference between a "have to" and a "need to" and a "want to" activity, and focus on the things that are the most important for you to do.

And in the time you get back in your day - do something with it. Sit outside on a blanket, under the shade of your favorite tree. Stare into the sky and laugh with your kiddos about the shapes the clouds make as they pass by. Crank the music and have a dance party in your living room. Read a book. Spend a few minutes holding your partner's hand. Or, just be thankful and breathe deeply. To me, that's doing something big.

XO

Meagan