Dear old friend

Let me start this by saying, I remember who you were. A vibrant open-hearted girl, with big curly hair, and a warm heart. Now let me say this; I am disappointed in who you have become. Yes, I am angry in writing this, yet I have nothing to gain in it. My only goal is that you don’t mislead others as you mislead me. You should be seen for who you are, not the narrative you project. You so loudly called out others as frauds, monsters, and liars. And now you’ve become just that.

What triggered me to write this was when you recently responded to a comment from one of your followers. Something about putting more people in jars. That hit me. Because I’m one of those people in one of your jars. Maybe you forgot. Maybe it was a pure anecdote. Or maybe you got bored after realizing your magic isn’t as powerful as you were told it to be. But that’s what happens when you climb ladders only to get sold magic beans.

My issue with you goes back to when we were in Carmel’s house. I re-read the texts you told me about how Carmel was scamming us. Nothing added up. It still doesn’t. You told me Carmel was romantically after Bob, but this all seemed like an elaborate way for you to cheat on Julien. Spirit was giving me a window out, but I was too scared to question you. I held onto every word you said. I had to. You told me I needed to join the house. You told me the Lwa walked with me. You told me all these contradictory things, and I stupidly believed you. My lesson; my fault. But fast forward to when you told me you were going to steal my Pot Tet from the Djevo. You created a farcical story about how Carmel was going to kill us or turn us into Zombies. I couldn’t piece it all together, I mean how could I. You were basically telling me an episode of American Horror Story. It was so far-fetched. But now I can see what you were planning.

In your recent posts, you’ve shared how initiates can join your house. Now it all adds up. You stole my Pot Tet so I’d be a servant in your house. The whole ancestor thing? That’s how you were going to keep me tied to your house. Back when we were diving into our practices, you knew I knew my ancestors, by name. You’d make digs about how ancestors can only do so much, but Higher Spirits are where it’s really at. Now you’ve come back to preach about ancestors, lineage, and tradition. Bull. So, anyone reading this: if you’d like to be an Hounsi servant to a house that will never give you spirits, take thousands from you, and use your ancestors as fuel, have fun. I’m sure she’ll give you a shout out on Instagram every other year.

Just kidding, she won’t.

But on the subject, Jess, you wrote an entire post about me. The blue chair post. I noticed you deleted it, but I remember it quite well. I almost cried tears of rage. All the beginning of this year, you kept asking me how my company was doing. And every time I told you it was a little rough, you told me I should just pack up and move to New Orleans. And then you wrote that post. An entire post about me, but no mention or tag. Now I know this will come off as bitter, but I want to explain that this bitterness doesn’t come from feeling like I was owed something. This bitterness comes from finding out that you were working my Pot Tet to block and suppress any success in my life unless I moved to New Orleans and worked in your store. I thought I was being paranoid for seeing this in my tarot readings at first. So, I consulted 3 other readers. In each instance, I didn’t tell the reader anything about you or clues to the situation. And each time, the situation was called out with nuance. But let’s pretend that’s all make-believe. As a friend, it honestly hurt me that you knew the amount of help it would’ve meant to give a shout out, and you decided against. Not writing a post at all would’ve been much better. You knew how hard I worked to pay for flights to come see you. Back in March of this year, I literally scrubbed your store floors on my hands and knees after buying a flight to your store, and ubers to and from the airport. I didn’t expect money, but a simple “Thank you” when I left for the airport would’ve been nice. You and Bob weren’t even there when I left. But again; stupid me.

Speaking of how little you thought of me when I finally asked how much I would make if I worked in your store, I was disgusted. You offered me a couch at Julien’s and $13/hr. So here you are advising me to drop my company, leave my family, all to sleep on a couch and work in a store for $13/hr. If you’re paying your employees that now, you should know that activists in multiple states are currently fighting for a living minimum wage of $15. Please pay people a livable wage.

But this goes back to how little you think of others. There’s a discussion about the legitimacy of you calling your company Haus of Hoodoo. You thought this would fade away, but at your own doing this has come back up for you. All because you opened the conversation about lineage and who has a right to practice. This is not your ancestral practice. So, you have always been a guest in Hoodoo, which is fine. You’re not the first and won’t be the last. But to become a gatekeeping authoritative voice is where you’ve crossed the line. You’re doing the same thing in Haitian Vodou. You flip flop on who can and can’t practice, and the ebb and flow seem to coincide with when you need more customers to when you need more legitimacy. You profit off African American spirituality, only to shit on the tradition and glorify Vodou above it. I won’t even dive into how your glorification of Haitian culture is just as bad as white fetishization. That’s not my battle to fight. But yes, consider changing your company name to Haus of Vodou or something. You’ve never cared about African American culture. You’ve never talked about anything regarding us, other than so flippantly saying in an interview “its just magic on the fly.” Please, leave our spirituality alone.

And lastly, let’s chat about your company. You didn’t think I heard you when you explained your process for the candles. But I heard you loud and clear. You said, “I give people their own magic”. Then I watched your process. You’re giving people wholesale Indio products in nicer branding. The only magic is in the branding though, because through this they’re able to tap into their own power by your projected power (if you’re a customer, re-read that). There is no praying in the candles and oils. There are no passcodes either. You give them nicely prepared wholesale candles. Just be real. Nothing wrong with that but stop creating an air of mystery and power, while shitting on other practitioners. You always told on yourself by how defensive you were and ready to attack practitioners that had anything like your branding. Again, that’s the only place your magic exists. The other major key is how extensive your instructions are. If the candles were powerful on their own, they could be lit at any time of day with a minimal prayer into it. But your instructions are much like a book on general magic. Again, nothing wrong with that. But be real.

At any rate, I won’t lie and say I wish you the best. That ship sailed when you decided to keep my Pot Tet after I said I’m not moving to New Orleans. I wish you to be honest. Be honest with yourself and others.

PS: Stop lying and adding that you grew up in Haiti. You know damn well you didn’t. You’re not Haitian. You’ve been Dominican all the years I’ve known you. If you were even a quarter Haitian as you are now claiming, you would’ve boasted that loudly from day one. Just like you boast everything else. Your desperation is showing very badly.