Your Home Is Not My Home

I ran away as fast as I could. You want to go back to raise your future family.

Announcement ⭐

Yes, my loves, there’s a little essay in here for you—but before I get into that, I do want to share a BRAND NEW WORKSHOP that I’m going to be teaching live on June 1 (and it will be recorded). If you’ve ever thought about teaching a workshop online but find the idea overwhelming, I AM HERE FOR YOU.

Are you confused about what level of Zoom you’d need? Meeting or webinar? How do you prepare the material for your workshop? How do you make it accessible to Deaf and/or people who are hard of hearing? How can you promote it? How can you promote it if you don’t use social media? How do you promote your workshop without feeling like a gross sleazeball? YES. I AM HERE FOR YOU.

In Prep & Teach Your Unique Online Workshop (Without the Stress), I’m going to give you what you need, from prep to the day of teaching, including a list of all the tools you’ll need to sign up for and hot tips on how to best promote your class. You’ll be able to focus on the magic between you and your students, without stressing over the details (I’ll give you everything you need).

Over the past ten years, I've taught almost one hundred online workshops, using different processes for gathering the content, setting up the tech, promotion, and teaching on the day of class. Some of those classes earned five figures for a single workshop alone. In this new class from The Unexpected Shape™, I'll lead you step-by-step through the process of leading and creating a one-time online workshop, giving you all the details of how to do it without losing your mind with stress. After the workshop, we'll also have a forum where you can cheer on and support other students, while receiving cheer and support in return.

“Esmé is exceedingly knowledgeable and her teaching style is the perfect blend of calmly explaining every step of the writing process so you won’t be left confused and answering additional questions. She also puts much thought into every answer instead of giving a quick reply—I felt seen, taken care of and special, even though it was a group workshop.” —Navina B.

"Esmé’s classes are among my favorite to take for a few reasons. First of all, I am a fan of her writing and trust her expertise. This is the initial hook. However, I find her to be a smart and insightful teacher and appreciate her teaching style, which is patient, approachable, and calm. Her assistant Chloe, who attends and helps facilitate all of the sessions, has a similar energy, so they complement each other well. I always prefer quiet power over noisy, frenetic instruction. In addition to the general atmosphere of the teaching, the courses are always well-prepared, organized, and professional. They have a system, and it works.” —Sara V.

Sign up before May 13th and pay the early bird price of $147. After that, the class cost will go up to $197.

If it feels right to you, go for it now—don’t let it slip, greaseball-style, from your mind until it’s too late. ❤️

Learn more & register here.

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…and now for the storytelling

yep, that’s me in a pageboy hat

TW: abuse

Recently a stranger came to our home to pick up some clothing. We made small talk as she assessed my collection of dresses one by one, handing me the pieces for which they had no need, and out of nowhere she mentioned my hometown, which is a small town that I fled at eighteen and to which I have vowed never to return. Reluctantly I told her I was from the same small town; I went to its public high school. I named the coffee shop that is the social hub of downtown, and we laughed about the famous drinks they sell that are essentially glorified Frappuccinos but were sold before Starbucks came on the scene. She brightly said that she likes San Francisco, but she plans to return to our shared hometown when she's ready to have a family. "I just love it there," she said. "It's such a perfect place."

I said nothing about how much I hate that town, nor how I would turn down a million dollars to live there again. It's not surprising to me that someone else would leave and then want to return; I know of several people in my high school class who never left, instead deciding to commit their entire lives to remaining there. My younger brother has been baffled by how much shit-talking I do about the place where we grew up—but at the same time, he was nominated for homecoming king and was a varsity football player. Football players were royalty not only at the high school, but in the town itself. Some towns are college towns; our town was a high school football town. I wouldn't go so far as to say that it had a Friday Night Lights vibe, but it didn't not have a Friday Night Lights vibe.

One day I was sitting in German class before class officially started. L, the stunner and starlet of the school, rushed in with her boyfriend B behind her. He was trying to get her to confess something. She refused. He was an enormous boy, built with swollen muscles ringed by faux tribal tattoos as was the trend in the late 90s, and B was unaccustomed to having people say no to him—let alone a girl. L continued to say no. B began to rage: he picked up one of the desks and threw it across the room, and then he walked out the door—but not before he punched out the window in the door with his bare fist, leaving the teacher and the rest of the class baffled and afraid. He came back to class the following day, not suspended or expelled. I possibly don't need to explain that he was a star of the football team.