BurntToast Turns Two Years Old.
TWO YEARS. 730 days. 17,520 hours. 148 posts. 122 original recipes. Too many words to count.
If I’m being completely honest, this day almost slipped past me. Between the chaos of getting the kids back to school, reclaim my sanity and maybe, just maybe, start to detox my house from 90 days of kids stuffing Gogurt wrappers in the couch cushions it almost completely slipped by me that today is a pretty big day. And even though I’m still not sane, the chaos isn’t calmed and the house is still a certifiable disaster site, I had to sit back and reflect for just a few minutes on the fact that BURNT TOAST IS TWO YEARS OLD, y’all,
I’ve said it about 572 times but it’s totally true–when I started this whole BurntToast thing I had NO IDEA what I was signing up for. I had no idea what I was doing. Most normal people do some research first. Most have an idea, a plan and a goal. Most have checked out the market, figured out how they want to go and probably even talked to some knowledgeable people in the field before jumping in feet first.
I dove into BurntToast blindly, feeling called to share food and life with people and maybe even a few stories. I had no true plan about what I wanted out of this or how I wanted it to go. I was scared to death, knowing that in so many ways going “public” with any creative work at all makes you a ripe target for criticism, mockery and downright hate. Yet I still did it. I imagined people I used to work with mocking me, friends from my past saying “oh yeah she started a food blog” with eye rolls and disdain. Like, who do I think I am that anyone on earth wants to read anything I’ve written or trust anything coming out of my kitchen? This thought terrified me. And I had no idea what people would think.
And 148 posts later, I still really don’t. Somehow this work found me, and somehow, by the total grace of God, it’s grown and done well. But I still feel like I’m putting myself out there each week never really sure what the response is going to be. What I’ve learned from this, though, is that if it doesn’t feel a little scary, if I’m not putting it all out there and leaving it on the field, then I’m not really doing what I want to be doing. Playing it safe and following the status quo was fine and all, I did it for years. But this is building something of my own–my dreams, my goals, my passions–and even though I still wonder what the hell I am doing on the daily, at least my soul is on fire and I’m doing what I’ve been called to do.
And because this would be a pretty lame two-year post without some true reflection, I thought I’d share some of the things I’ve learned along this ride. Nothing earth-shattering here, just some thoughts on life and art and this world we live in.
Show Them Your Scars.
No one, and I mean NO ONE, cares what you have to say until they can see your scars. This is the honest to goodness truth. There are so many people out there telling you what to do and how to do it. Moms telling other moms how to mom. Women telling other women how to self-actualize (whatever the heck that means), manifest (once again, wth), and harness their growth. {note to self: look these terms up asap} Bloggers are telling other bloggers how to make millions and everyone and their mother is trying to sell you something. But none of that matters, none of it, unless people can look at you and say “you too?” No amount of ministry will ever work if you aren’t leading with grace and humility. No amount of preaching or therapy or self-help makes a bit of difference until someone can look at you and see your humanness (and I mean the real stuff, not just pretend vulnerability and humble bragging). And yes, that’s totally scary and totally messy. But once your people see your scars and hear the story about that one time you walked around Target with your yoga pants on backwards, they will relate. I promise. 
Trust the process.
When I stared this thing I truthfully had no idea if I would be good at it or if I would crash and burn and be a complete failure. I had no idea I could actually write, well, anything. And then I started. It wasn’t that great (check out my first post for evidence). But I got better. And better. And it turns out that writing and cooking and photography are all kind of like muscles–the more you work them the stronger they get.
So I kept going.
And let me tell you, there are times when I’m writing and sharing and there are literal CRICKETS out there. People are busy and they don’t always have time to click the link and read the things and make the recipes. There are still posts of mine that have views in the double digits. BUT THAT’S OK. It’s all part of it. Because now it feels good and right and like I’m supposed to be doing this. And I don’t care if I get 25 or 2500 views on a post. Because if one person, and I mean ONE SINGLE PERSON, messages me and says “I needed to read this today. Thank you.” Then I’ve done my job.
It’s not personal.
Some of my best friends have never read a single thing I’ve written. I have family members that can’t even remember the name of my blog. And it’s not personal. Because then I have people who have popped out of the woodwork of my past who have said “Oh my gosh, thank you for making me feel more normal. Thank you for sharing.” And that’s all that matters. A food blog that shares life stories is not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. And that’s totally okay. (I mean, those people are dead to me and all, but it’s still fine)
Just DO IT.
Y’all. JUST DO IT. Your dream to start a business or write a book? Your passion for banjo playing? Your goal of running a marathon backward while juggling bowling pins? JUST DO IT. I started BurntToast after wrong turns and dead ends, years of giving blood sweat and tears to build other people’s dreams. Sure, I was good at it and made a living in the process. But I always felt maybe a little left of center, like something wasn’t quite right. And I was always searching for something that felt like MINE. Learn from my mistakes, people, there is a difference. When you’re following your own dreams and living out your passion you know it in your bones. Your soul hums. Your heart soars. And you feel alive, really alive. JUST DO IT. Don’t live the rest of your life working hard to put a round peg in a square hole. JUST DO IT.
Be your own damn hero.
One of the hardest lessons I’ve ever learned in life is that no one can save you from yourself. No one. You can wait forever for that knight in shining armor to come in on his white horse and save the day. And he might and that is amazing. But let me tell you, at the end of the day, he’s probably going to want you to clean the toilets and have an annoying habit of clipping his toenails at the dinner table. It’s just the truth. Yes, you will hopefully find a wonderful man to marry, amazing mentors and bosses to guide you and friends to pick you up when you fall, but even more so, sometimes you’re just going to have put on your big girl pants and be your own damn hero. No one else is responsible for the outcome of your life. No one. They’re not on the hook for your dreams, your goals or the shape of your soul. YOU ARE. So step up. Step in. And rise. 
Laugh a Little (at yourself)
If you’ve been following me for any time at all, you should know by now that I am quite ridiculous and I like to tell the stories about my most ridiculous of ridiculous times. I like to laugh at myself. But I’ve had people reach out to give me heartfelt advice, telling me that I should not participate in self-deprecating humor and that by calling myself things like “ridiculous” I’m not empowering myself or others. And to these people, I say “get over yourself.”
Just kidding. I don’t really say that because I’m not a monster.
Instead, I thank them kindly and then go about my merry way. Because here’s the deal, I don’t really care about empowering or disempowering others with my stories. But I truly believe we all need to stop taking ourselves so darn seriously. I’m deprecating exactly zero people, including myself, when I tell a story about something I did and call myself ridiculous because it was, in fact, ridiculous. We ALL DO DUMB THINGS. We all act the fool sometimes. This is life. And it’s so much easier and more fun if we recognize this, throw it out there and laugh about it. So please don’t @ me the next time I’m making fun of myself. I have a delete button and I know how to use it. 
Friends, these past two have been the absolute best of my life. I have no words for how much your support, your encouragement and your kindness has meant to me. The fact that any of you take even two minutes out of your day to click through and read what I’ve got to say about anything is mind-blowing to me. This next year is going to be kind of big around here. Things I’ve been waiting for and praying for have started to roll into shape and I can’t wait to share them with you. It turns out that when you just plug away at what you’re supposed to be doing things do happen.
WHO KNEW?
But in the meantime, continue following (especially on FB and Insta). Continue sharing. Continue messaging me. The love is mutual, I promise. This BurntToast family is amazing. And I’m grateful for each and every one of you.
Peace, love and TWO FREAKING YEARS,
Meg
Welcome to BurntToast! My name is Meaghan, and this is my safe space, a place where we can share stories, share recipes and share life. It’s my dream that you can come here, kick your shoes off and pour yourself a glass of wine while you read, laugh, and maybe even hop into the kitchen. This is my heart, for all of you to see. And ALL are welcome here.