My 12Min.Me Speech

Megan Vigil recounts moving from Los Angeles to Germany and how self-concept, fear, and community reshaped her life. A moment seeing herself as a "regal goddess" in a mirror shifted her beliefs. She now uses meditation, structured choices, and the Vassas Los community group in Ulm to counter fear-driven narratives.
Chapters
I said, her from the city, so her got to be witty witty. She said, him from the country, so him got to be funky funky. We could rewrite our stories that we tell about ourselves. Our final speaker is going to take us through that question. And by the way, she has been a big, big supporter of our community since day one, even long before the English sessions started. So a big warm welcome to Megan Vigil. Thank you. I don't even speak German, and I would go to the 12-minute knees in German, and I'm just like, yes, ja, das ist sehr cool. So I'm Megan Vigil, and you're gonna have to hold all of your laughter until the end because we only have 12 minutes, guys. So to start, here's a thought, and after you read it, I need you to really pay attention to what your first thought is when you first read it. Everything always works out for my highest good. And then just whatever your thought is, just keep it in the back of your craw and we'll talk about it later. So I come from Los Angeles and I moved to Ulm 2 years ago. Whenever I tell people that, their first thing is, uh, warum? Why did you come here? I'm like, the vibes. What are you doing here? I'm vibing. Some days I think it was one of the best decisions I've ever made. And other days, not so much. The highs have been incredible. The lows have been spectacular. The lows have been so low, in fact, that when they first asked me to speak at 12 Minute Me 2.0, I said no because the title was going to be How not to kill yourself when you think you have every reason to. And I promise I'm okay, and I know that that's dark, and I don't take that topic very lightly, but life can get really dark. The business failed, the relationship ended, the money disappeared, your body failed you, you have to learn German. Like, it's been rough, guys. Real schwayl. Life has a way of humbling all of us, but not as much as Dirty Doss. And when those moments happen, we don't just experience them, we start to tell ourselves stories of what this might mean. We could say, I've ruined my life, I'm a failure, I'm unlovable, I'm not safe, things may never work out for someone like me, or maybe I should cut bangs. And no, no to all of it. No to all of it. We're human, we're going to feel the fear, we're going to feel judgment, we're going to feel anger, we're going to feel grief, we're going to feel panic. But how do we feel those things without turning them into an identity? How do you move forward when you genuinely think, I've really done it this time, I have ruined my life? For me, one of those tools is self-concept work. I grew up in Los Angeles to what I would call a— It's very interesting here to see. This is all special effects makeup. My dad was a special effects makeup artist. He was actually in construction, uh, but he loved special effects makeup and he would do all that. And my mom, she was called Raquel Welch because she loved hair and makeup and she always wore wigs and the whole thing. And this is not in my thing, but that's our wonderfully weird little family. Just part of it too, there's like a couple more kids, but I didn't have the photos. My favorite game wasn't playing house, it was playing Sunday Mass and giving my teddy bear communion. And I'd just be like, Heavenly Father, forever and ever, and also with you. And this was my favorite game. I loved makeup, and I loved singing, and I loved dressing up. And at 5, I spent a weird amount of time pretending I was an old Jewish lady from New York City, or like a guy named Tony from Brooklyn who wore a fanny pack. Hey! And my sister would be like, you're not from New York, Megan. And I'm like, shh, I'm trying to order a cheeseburger. Apparently I was experimenting with identity at a very early age. And when I was 8, I asked my mom, why aren't you friends with my, my friend's parents at this very expensive Catholic school that I went to that was paid for by my grandparents who volunteered there and they were members of that church? And she said, because, Megan, they're beautiful, educated, and rich. And she also believed that once people got to know her, they weren't going to like her. She never told me not to believe those things, but I absorbed them, and I absorbed the hierarchy underneath it that some people are in the inner circle and you are not because you're not beautiful, you're not rich, and you're not educated. But that's how self-concept works. That's how a lot of it is built. We absorb beliefs about love, about money, about relationships, success, beauty, belonging, safety from our family, from our culture, from religion, from the media, from school. And what this does is creates our concept of reality. And maybe a fish doesn't know it's wet. We don't even know what's popping off inside here. And that self-concept—it's the beliefs and assumptions that you've accepted as true about who you are, what you're capable of, and what kind of life is available to you. So maybe you believe you're not enough, or. Maybe you believe that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves, or something like that, as my favorite comedian Bill Hicks once said. Or maybe we can just start by believing that we can send that email that we've been putting off. My own self-concept is always evolving, consciously and unconsciously, or devolving. After a shocking series of decisions that included dropping out of seminary school because I was studying to be a youth pastor, not finishing college, becoming a makeup artist, losing my apartment, and somehow ending up working on die großen Schiffe, die Kreuzfahrtschiffe, cruise ships, as a photographer and then a karaoke host, which was probably not even the silliest way I've made money. And I was standing in my cabin bathroom one day, I closed the mirror, and for one split second, I saw a regal goddess. I saw a woman who was worthy of love and respect, like a real queen of a woman. And I had never seen myself like that before because I always thought I was a big joke. And it lasted about 5 seconds, but for those 5 seconds, I saw myself as the person I always wanted to be and that there might be another way of looking at myself. So I moved back to LA and— looks really crazy, doesn't it? After the grossa schifa, and my life continued to make absolutely no sense on paper. I moved through modeling, makeup, music, and eventually started creating the global marketing and educational materials for the biggest beauty brands in the world. In 2018, when I was 38, I took my career on the road as a digital nomad, and I did that for 5 years, which is partly the reason why I'm here before you today. But professional success did not change anything that I believed about love, money, safety, rejection, or my own value. And some of those things were a hot mess. And just because you're changing your self-concept in one area doesn't mean that the others aren't a shit show. So I started paying attention to who I became when things went wrong. When someone didn't choose me, what did I decide that meant about me? When work became uncertain, did I believe that that meant I wasn't safe? Did my brain immediately decide when something didn't work out, you've ruined your life, it's done? Our brains look for patterns and equate familiarity with safety because we know what to expect, even when what you're expecting all the time is rock bottom. So instead of asking, why do these sad things keep happening to me? I asked myself, What have I been believing about myself that keeps me leading back to these kinds of circumstances? And that led me to something interesting that I hadn't recognized about my relationship with fear. For example, I had spent my life believing that fear was not a stop sign. That belief took me all around the world. It puts me on stage when I have stage fright. It puts me in rooms that I'm terrified or I don't believe I'm worthy of entering. And it's just kept me going. But then I realized that I have an identification with this role of feeling the fear and doing it anyways. I identify as a fearful person. So I know how to be brave, I know how to be resilient, I know how to white-knuckle my way through everything, but sometimes I just want to wonder what would happen if I didn't feel terrified all the time. And That question started to come into my life once I moved to Ulm. Once I could recognize the person that I've been practicing in all facets of my life, I could ask who I wanted to be instead. What if instead of believing I could survive anything, I could also believe that I'm a person who was safe? Me? That's crazy talk. And Germany offers me so many opportunities to practice this theory, especially when I get the love letters from the Finanzamts that I love to see so much. Like, oh, I wonder what they want to tell me now. Oh, I know. You owe $50,000. Sometimes the title of my life story could be, how the hell are you gonna figure this one out? And my brain knows exactly what to do: to be afraid, to worry, to ruminate. It has like a master's degree in fearfulness. But choosing what you want to be is easy when life agrees with you. It's when it doesn't that the practice begins. So I practice something else. I read things that challenge me. I meditate. I question thoughts that arrive disguised as facts. I book positive psychology sessions with Danielle Watson. I book yoga classes at For the Love of with Raha. Woo! I call my sister in LA just to talk shit. I call Ivana to just walk around like Rosa Blau. I take action in what I can control, and the rest I have to practice Radical delusional trust on the things that I can't control. And when my brain says, you're not going to make it, I ask, is that true, or is that just the story that it knows how to tell in that moment? I try to imagine what I want instead of endlessly rehearsing catastrophe, because I can't practice being doomed all day and expect to make decisions like somebody who feels safe would. Sometimes I practice while I walk. I'll say, okay, I wanna practice what it's like to feel calm or peaceful or believing that the dating scene in Ulm isn't that bad. And I'm gonna do it until that tree right there— and I swear to God, I will take 2 steps before I'm just like, yeah, but— and it feels kind of boring. I'm like, this is too calm. Who am I without all the drama? Uh, but then somebody walks in front of me and I'm like, son of a bitch. And then I practice again because I immediately know I've literally stepped out of what I was trying to achieve. I still get scared. I still spiral. I still doom scroll for 2 hours in the morning. I still sometimes think that I've completely tanked my life. But as the quote goes, until death, all defeat is psychological. And I don't mean to make that a total loss, or that loss isn't real, or circumstances don't matter. I take it to mean that as long as I'm still This story— dang it, I thought I timed it so well. Okay, have I ruined my life? Maybe twice today. But ruining your life doesn't have to be an identity. Maybe it's just part of your story. And I'm not standing here because everything has worked out. I am right in the middle of it. I'm still dealing with the derdidas, and I'm just a girl standing in front of an audience wondering when to use accusative or dative. So Uh, I have a QR code up there. You go on to it, it has, um, a free thing to download about, uh, self-concept work. It's just a Google Doc that I made, but I was just like, you know what, take it. Follow me on all the things and then come introduce me. I will be going to Apoteca after this. Uh, you're all invited to do karaoke with me. Now we can get to the question and answer part, but if anyone's too shy, I've paid my friends to ask me about my skincare routine. And how I stay so good-looking at 46. So who would like to? Michelle. I don't have a question, but just a comment. After this talk about authenticity, if that's not authenticity, I don't know what is. Can we have more like that, please? Stop it from now. Stop it from now. I was just gonna say, um, just a bit of something for someone who also teaches German or other things. Der, die, das, right? We actually learn to say, uh, no article, kein Artikel, kein Problem. Yeah, I've actually been practicing that whole philosophy and I didn't even know it. Thank you, I'm glad you validated it. When you were doing your digital moonwalking, what do you think was one of the biggest lessons that you took with you in coming here and doing your hair and all the other things that you're doing? So it was— that was actually really crazy. I haven't thought about it in a long time, but I started planning a year before. I was working as an educational content creator for Anastasia Beverly Hills in Los Angeles, this dream job, and I was just like I'm gonna do this thing. I'm gonna just go. And I would pretend that I was one of those horses that when you put them down the hill, you have to put the blinders on so they can't see. And sometimes I would literally just have to be like, mm-mm, to my own fear, to my own, uh, belief that you're gonna fail and you're gonna die in a gutter. Like, it's always that. Like, something about a gutter. I don't know where that came from. I'll have to investigate, but— Telling my fear, like I just sometimes go la da da da da da. No, I don't have time for this right now because I have a goal, and it may be crazy, but this is what I've decided to do. So I'm just gonna do it, and I would have to do this constantly, even though I was walking toward the process of doing that. And but I still kept putting one foot in front of the other despite the fears and the misgivings. I'd be buying a flight, or I would be calling a friend like, "I'm gonna come stay with you," or I'd start watching people's dogs and cats. So the the part of me that was gonna do it—I set the goal—I'm gonna do it—would keep pushing myself forward, and then the part of me that was fearful—I would just have to be like, "Not right now, sweetie. We're gonna go to Bali." Vivek. Yeah. So the day you actually looked into the mirror and Realized that you are a queen. What triggered that? Why that day? It shocked me. It scared me. I don't know. It was like 5-second flash, and I didn't feel like that ever again in that same way. Like, when I closed it and I was like, oh, it wasn't even like a conscious— like, it was almost like I was seeing someone that was just walking by or something, and it frightened me a little bit because That went against everything that I believed about myself, so it was causing cognitive dissonance. No, you're a big bitch. You're a big piece of crap. Like, you're not this. And I'm like, but I— but I am! But I am! And so I have to, even now, win the thoughts of, because you look like this, or because this, or whatever, you're not allowed to have XYZ. And of course, being a woman from Los Angeles, born from another woman from Los Angeles, those types of thoughts come really deep, that your worth and your value is based on your looks. Uh, and because I didn't feel like I had those looks, I didn't believe I had worth and value. So that was very interesting to close that mirror and be like, she's valuable because she's attractive. Or I don't know what it was, but over the years I have to really keep that in check and be like, nah, bitch, you're a bad bitch. You're a bad bitch. Next question. You said that fear has been one of your fuel to continue. Even when you have fear, you continue towards your goals. But how does it play a role when making decisions? Do you ever face decision paralysis? No. But I have a whole system with decision paralysis. I sometimes I'll say this is the choice that I need to make, but that's a Monday choice. I have to deal with Tuesday things right now, so I'm going to make that decision on Monday. And and if this happens or this doesn't happen, then I can make this or this type of choice. But that decision needs to make be made by Monday. And so that's how I make all my decisions. And of course, it's based on research and logic. It's not all like I'm Megan. I'm living in Bali. I'm going to look to Ulm, Germany because it's crazy. Like it's very. Draw like planned out, and there's like spreadsheets and there's things. But once I make a decision, that's the decision. Pencils down, and now we have to buy the flight on Tuesday or this and that. And so there's always going to be something that's pushing that forward once I make the goal and make the decision. So I got two questions. The first one is In-N-Out versus Water Burger, and your favorite memory in golfing stuff. In golfing stuff, fastest task. You're from LA. You should. I don't know this. No, no. And we don't have Whataburger. We only have In-N-Out. So I think I've had a Whataburger because my sister moved to Texas. But ah, In-N-Out, it's cool. Like, I like it. But I'm not a burger person. I'm a spaghetti bolognese person. That's where I got all this cake. Spaghetti bolognese. We got to know each other through a friend, and we didn't know each other, but I connected with you right in the first second. And, um, I wanted to tell you this, but, um, my question is, what part of— or what did community— did community play a part in your journey? So, did you have people around you who helped you do the next step, or did you all do it on your own? For my initial, like, most things were done on my own in a certain way because I had very deep-seated subconscious belief systems. I still have trouble asking for help. It's not because I think I can do it. There's a subconscious belief like, I don't want to bother anybody, like, just don't mind me. Uh, but once I moved to Ulm, there was really nothing I could do about that. Like, luckily I had already gotten over that part and was able to rely on community like 100% because I didn't know anyone when I moved here. So the Vassas Los group, it's an international community, was like life-changing. And all my friends back home were just like, how did you meet all those people? Like, we know you're Megan, but no, that's really crazy. And like It's a bunch of crazy people just like me. We were like, hi, we're nuts, let's go! We all moved to Germany, let's go! But community has played a big part in it, especially with my digital nomad travels. It was very an alone thing, it was very solo. So when I would meet a friend and they'd be like, come on, I'll take you to my house and I know the way on the train, I'd be like, oh my God, thank you! Because I was just like doing it myself, getting lost in trains in Istanbul and who knows what. For a long time, so once I got to Ulm, I haven't left. I had to go to Venice two years ago when I first got here. Like, I know that's so sad, but I haven't left since because I'm just tired and I just I got my community. I know where my bank is. I've got the food I like. I don't need to worry about it. So communities played a big part. I'm a mom of a daughter. She's about two and a half years old. That's quite a question. Would you say that your fears came from your family or from the environment where you grew up in? I think my fears would have come from the lack of self-worth that I believed that I deserved anything. So, from my mom and my dad. There's a story that I took out. He was an amazing artist, but he was a construction worker. And he had an opportunity to interview with something called Hanna-Barbera. It's a very famous American animation production studio, and he turned it down because he, he had a family to take care of, and he kept— he chose safety. And then, uh, when he was 64 and I was 34, in 2014, he passed from, uh, an asbestos-related disease, which was directly related to his work as a construction worker. And I always said— thought about him, like I am gonna do it. I'm gonna do it. No one's gonna tell me I can't do it, and fear isn't gonna tell me I can't do it. But it's definitely coming from being worthy enough to believe that you deserve good things and that you're supported and you're taken care of. And then the other thing of like, they're not gonna laugh at you, and you're just like, well then fucking laugh at me. Like, I'm just gonna do it. But I would say the fear comes mostly from my family. I would say that one. I don't know. I just don't do what my parents did. There you go. Uh, I would probably let her do a lot of things on her own and let her fail. Uh, not like some drugs or something. I don't know. I don't know where the limit is. You know what? Try that. I don't know. I would say Do the best you can and let her do it herself the most that she can, because she's not going to listen to you anyway. Maybe, uh, and just give her a little bit of leeway and just know that she can come back to a place that's safe if things get too scary. I didn't have that, so I just had to be like, well, I guess I'm— this has to work. There is no plan B. There is no plan B. Like, you don't have to always be afraid to get things done, but unfortunately that was, uh, the cards that I was dealt. So, listening to you, um, I noticed that you use a lot of humor. Is this a way you deal with your fears? And was it always a part of you, or did you learn it? I've always been naturally funny. It's just from birth. I came out of the womb like You never notice about airplane food. Uh, partially, partially humor is a self, uh, protection mechanism for sure. Uh, and then the other half is just sheer raw talent. I don't know, but it's probably a bit of both for sure, for sure. Uh, this young man back here. Young, exactly. Oh, hi. Goddess Megan, what are you gonna sing tonight? Oh, at karaoke? Yeah. Uh, I might just stick with something safe and Jon Bon Jovi's Blaze of glory. Okay, I don't know if you know that. Google it on the way. But we're going apothecary to find that out. All right, a bonus question. Thank you so much. I feel so privileged. Just one probably boring question. If you had to do it, how would you preach? My name is— if I was trying to make some money? Yes! I actually didn't talk much about myself in that way, so thank you and I appreciate it. Uh, my name is Megan Vigil. I'm a makeup artist and a photographer and a beauty branding and marketing expert for the last like a million years. So if you want to train your salon staff or any of your staff, because customer service, let's just Let's just be honest here, you guys need some help here. And, uh, you want your makeup done, you want some photography, anything like that. But I guess I just wanted to talk about this today because I thought maybe we could all use it. Mama, I'm a millionaire, but I feel like a bum.










