Mecca Williams




As I hide under a soft cotton blanket from the vicious mosquitoes that attacked me the night before, it’s my first physical reminder I made it to Jamaica. Waking up to the soft hum of the country wind, roosters crowing at the crack of dawn, and the unbelievable fresh smell in the air.  It refreshed me with so much comfort. I had made it to Trelawny, laying in my boyfriend’s childhood bed in his mother's beautiful home. Several months earlier, I was in the wrath of my own thoughts constantly. Comparing and contrasting everything, overthinking how to even wake up the next morning, and compartmentalizing where I would go after a failed career move. After one creative conversation with my homegirl Sam, I knew I needed change and some type of self-rejuvenation. I needed to remove myself from the energy of New York that gets toxic, when you lose yourself in your self pity, your ideal thoughts of success, and the imbalance of realizing life isn't about seeking perfection -- It is about seeking EXPERIENCE.

I started working on a project that would take me to Jamaica for 30 days at the beginning of 2018 mostly solo with limited funds, but limitless excitement. I made a business plan, and reached out to people in hopes of collaboration. Every morning as NY buzzed around me, holidays breezed by - I worked vigorously on my plan to travel the coast of Jamaica from Negril to Portland. Each morning, I made mood boards, daydreaming and planning what I thought was every detail of my adventure to come. Can you even plan the unknown though? 

The answer is no. Back in Jamaica, I forgot mosquito repellant. Rookie move, but I was here, and the 40 plus bites along the trip were survival marks. My first two days in Trelawny were blissful, yet equivocal. They helped me get acquainted, and make my well needed critiques before engulfing to Negril on my own. This would be my second time to Negril, my first two years before with a couple of my close girlfriends. This time though, I was SOLO. I checked into my cottage with my burner ‘Jamaica’ phone barely working, no wifi in my cottage, but some of nature's beautiful elements to get me all together. 



As my first morning began, I woke excited for the day, but a little unsure and fearful  of my solo adventures. Would they be safe alone, with  the up-tenth requests from  various island men. It had to be, I was here fearfully. The next day, I left the Garden, and went to Rick’s Cafe across from my cottage. I jumped from their infamous cliffs into the beautiful ocean erasing all sense of fear of my solo journey. My first sensation of renewal splashed on my skin, as the salt ocean filled my pores.


In Negril, I woke up every morning listening to the birds hum, felt the breeze, cooked my own meals with ingredients from the local market - papaya, plantain, and eggs. I grounded myself reflecting on my lived within my little means. I selfie timered a lot of photos, and created content for the beautiful place I stayed.after getting settled i would wake up, cook breakfast - papaya, plantain, eggs, and light up.  grab all my polariod cameras, water, and a book. i would  Started serving it's purp