About two months ago, I had written a similar post, published it and about a month ago, deleted it. It was a post requesting sponsorship for my upcoming move to Guatemala. 

See, where I come from, we are prideful people. The thought of asking for help whether it be monetary or not is a daunting task. We prefer to get things done on our own, no matter how hard it is.

Since my deleted post, I have had a closet sale and paired it with my savings and the earnings from my small business. Unfortunately, it still isn't enough. After realizing that, I had lost all hope. That is, until someone amazing convinced me not to give up on my dreams. 

Esperanza means hope in Spanish. 

It's not often that someone gets your vision but the end result can be spectacular in so many ways for so many people. So today, I'm not coming to you with a sad story as to why I need your help. I am simply and humbly asking that you believe in me, that you trust my journey and help me to accomplish something that I set out to do. Something I believe will make me better. 

In two weeks, I leave my country, The Bahamas for the breathtaking shores of Lake Atitlan, Guatemala. During this time, I plan to explore, volunteer/help with community service, adopt a dog and write my second book and a book of short stories including some of the short story posts from this blog. 

It is my hope to document all of this on Instagram & Snapchat (@xoeesh) and here on the blog. 

Donations can be made here or directly to my Paypal account (email address:

I would be very grateful to receive your donation but your well wishes, prayers and encouragement via social media/email will be appreciated as well. 


Lessons (In Business)

That's me, being genuinely happy

The past few months has been very interesting and busy months for me. Through it all, there were some lessons that I learned and would like to share. 

Lesson #1
How not to run a business

I was unemployed for 2 years. Last year, I ended up getting two jobs, The first was a temp, the second, ended up being a full-time which I got due to my (as she put it) great customer service skills. I loved the temp job so much so that I was at work at 7am when I didn't have to be until 9am. Unfortunately, when I started the full-time job, I couldn't keep up with the temp job because the hours went well into the night and my full-time job required me to be there at 7am. 

Getting to the point:

At the end of April, I quit. 
Now you may be saying, okay this girl is crazy. She went from unemployed to two jobs back to unemployed. She must not like to eat! 
GIRRRLLLL! It's quite the opposite. 
However, everyday was confrontational. Everyday was some new drama. EVERYDAY, it pained me to get up and go to a place that I hated much more than I hated prune juice. The way they treated customers/lack of customer service, the don't care attitude, the accusations. It felt as if the business was taken for a joke. The family feuds, the lying and deceiving... the throw everything on Eesh, never-mind the fact that she does HR, not Accounts. (yeah I had to plug that one in). The way they treated the employees, who, let's be honest if you're in a service industry, are the backbone of your company! 

Lesson #2
Customer Service is a MAJOR KEY!

After resigning, I decided to focus once again on my online boutique that only caters to full-figured women. 
I've always been able to get along with almost anyone...and anyone that I didn't get along with was just being plain old difficult (yep it's not my fault haha). But after being in the service industry for so long, I've developed a passion for customer service. 
Usually, when I'm putting together customer orders, I'd slip a handwritten note on pretty stationary into the customer bags to thank them because without them, I wouldn't be able to eat, literally. Before I started this, I asked around for opinions. Of course, you're going to have your occasional Debbie Downer who outright told me that it was tacky. 
"You need to get those printed" she said. "Most (beauty) companies I see have them printed." 
Well ma'am, I don't have most (beauty) companies money or line staff. Besides, I prefer to be more personable and thoughtful when it comes to my customers and guess what? 

Lesson #3
Your employee gets paid no matter what

Okay so I might have been slightly exaggerating when I said I'm able to eat. Noodles still count right?
This was perhaps the biggest lesson of all. 
I made a decent profit from my business since the two weeks we've been in production. I was pretty proud of myself, until I remembered that I had an employee to pay. 
Oy vay! 
Bye-bye profit.
Reality is, no matter what, you can't tell your employee that you can't pay them because you didn't make the money or you won't have any money left. That's really not their problem. They performed a service and now you have to pay for it. 
So before I paid myself, I had to make sure that she was paid and happy because, honestly, I need her. 


I feel like God lets us go through things so that we can gain experience and learn and grow and come back stronger than ever before. We just have to be willing to accept the blessing in the lesson.

Happy Hump Day Darlings!

A Stranger In A Strange Place

Photo Credit

She stepped off the airplane and inhaled. The air was different. It was new. She pinched herself, thinking that this must be a dream. She just couldn't bring herself to believe that she left her home, her country, even the comfort of the United States of America to step foot in a land unbeknownst to her. A land whose language she barely knew.

Oh believe it honey, her subconscious said.

She forced herself to move. Step after step just her, her backpack and the $1200 that was somewhere on her body. $1200 that was somehow supposed to help her survive for three months in a place she knew no one.

Before the move she joked that she would place a "please feed me" button on her blog but this shit started to look real.

One breath at a time. One step at a time. One a time, she thought.

As she stood before the metal building that in no way looked like an airport, she went to turn back. She thought to run, run as fast as she could back to the airplane, back to a home that had nothing left for her. But she didn't. She took a deep breath and said "Taxi!"


For so long I have dreamt of running away; to just pack my bag and leave without saying a word.
You may think it's quite selfish, but I think it's quite necessary.
I have always had a problem with remaining stagnant.
I seek growth. I seek adventure.
I have never wanted to be in one place all of my life feeling like I'm being suffocated and held back.
I've been planning for years on the ultimate getaway but I think with planning, I became more and more afraid to act as the days went by. Picking up and leaving doesn't sound doable either but it has to be.
There has to be more to life!
Has anyone ever felt like running away?

On a lighter and happier note...

I live in The Bahamas...on an island, and I think I often make this known but sometimes I forget how relaxing the beach can be. We islanders tend to take the beach for granted because, well, it's always there.

I needed a quick getaway without really getting away, so on my day off, I decided to pack my tote and Bailey into the car and drive to the beach.

Because it's not Summer (or a Sunday) the beach was basically abandoned, just the way I like it. It gives me time to be alone with my thoughts. Time to soak in the true beauty of this particular part of my island and Bailey has the entire beach to run around on (although he preferred to lounge under the sea-grape tree with me most of the time).

I didn't take loads of photos. I just wanted to enjoy being there. 

Mission accomplished.

What's your favorite non-getaway, getaway?



I'm currently sitting in Wendy's, deep in thought. The car ride was kind of intense this morning and it had left a bitter taste in my to speak and a story in my heart. Hope you like.

These scars. They remind me of everything.

Every insult.
Every backlash.
Every hurt.
Every blame.
Every time I cried myself to sleep...

I used to hate her but hate became too exhausting, so, I let her cut and slash, deeper still until there was nothing left. Until my body was marked completely. Until I became art that was weird and twisted and not in a Picasso kind of way. Art that made you go "what the fuck?" and walk away never comprehending how the result came to be.

She stabbed and sliced and never stopped because, shit, I let her. I was so weak that I gave her that power. The power to give an opinion when her opinion never should have mattered. The power to feel like she had...power.

Maybe her aim was to break me. Maybe she hates me just as much as I hate her... 
Used to hate her.

Sigh. Hate is exhausting.

But she instilled it in me. Every time she purposely tore me down. Every time she expected something from me that I just couldn't give. Every time she manipulated me. Every time she smiled and pretended to love me. Maybe she tried to love me.


I was never her favorite. I will never be her favorite. Shit. She shouldn't even have favorites.

We're all supposed to be equal, right?

You'd think she'd know.

Yet she continues to make me feel like an outsider, like a mistake, like a house nigger. Oh God, this just got real.

But these scars, they will always remind me.

But...these scars have also made me stronger and wiser.

These scars...