- A Short Autobiography -

My intent is that you receive a nugget of wisdom from this short version of my life story.

My given name is Christina but I am more often called Chrissi. Right before my freshman year of high school, I moved to a completely new school district. I had just gotten out of my first abusive on-again, off-again relationship that started in the 7th grade and lasted throughout 8th grade. The move meant I could get away from him and start fresh. I was nervous so my cousin suggested I spell my name “Chrissy with an i” to be cool. I was sold. That year, I made friends easily and even had someone to call my very own best friend. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, I had just learned the power of changing my name to create an identity shift.

I’ve lived in the US for most of my life but I moved around a lot. I was the type that had a home for my stuff but I was rarely actually around my stuff. I was always staying at my best friend’s house, friend’s houses, sneaking into whatever boyfriend’s house to sleep (I was young so we literally just slept)… Anywhere but my own bed. But if I did stay in my own space for a long time, no environment was good enough and I would switch up the furniture frequently. Likewise, I’ve lost count of how many times I attempted to change what people call me, whether it be through a nickname or a username on social media. I just thought changing my name and my furniture would help me be more productive, but I was never satisfied with my decisions for very long. I felt so unsettled by what was around me no matter how beautiful I made it. I always thought it could be better. I spent a lot of my time contemplating these changes and it always felt like such a huge achievement, until I got older and realized I didn’t really achieve anything. Ironically, the only “productive” thing I have from those times are photos of the environment changes. As an acrylic painter during this time, I only made 3 paintings that I worked on for YEARS because I couldn’t sit down long enough to make the decisions necessary to finish them. Not only was I running from home, I was also wasting my time in the guise that I was being productive.

Thankfully, it’s very ridiculous to think about doing that now because I finally see what I was doing. I created new identities because I didn’t understand authenticity. I didn’t understand how to be confident in who I was, so I started over many times. I didn’t understand that it was okay to make mistakes and still show my face. I moved around some more and lost people I loved along the way, so I isolated myself and desperately chased love for many years. I settled for people who tested my boundaries, treated me like shit, and treated others like shit, too. It’s always a bad sign when the person you’re with treats the restaurant waiter like they’re lesser than.

Introducing abusive relationship number two. Even right in the beginning, there were red flags but I was too dull to recognize them. Him inviting me to his house only to leave moments after I arrived saying he was going to some clothing swap party and I could just stay in his room, he won’t be long. Then when he got back, he showed me a hat he got, saying he just wanted to shower and cuddle up to watch something together (Years later I found out that his aunt had made him that hat). Him inviting me to parties only to disappear and leave me standing there alone; finally finding him only so he could ignore me standing there while he stared into some other girl’s eyes. I think I saw him drool once.

I remember standing in my bathroom getting ready to go to an event he invited me to. I got ready, curling my hair, trying to look done up but still relaxed - overthinking it, of course. I text him, only for him to say he forgot he invited me. He asked if I would like to go to some other thing on a different night and of course I accepted. After getting ready for the second time, I stood there and I remember distinctly asking myself, “are you ready for someone like this if it means you’ll get hurt?” With an itch to leave my house and experience anything else besides being with myself, I said yes, I want it. I turned off the lights and left.

That yes took me on a six year journey of entangled bullshit that caused my self confidence to wither deep inside a locked safe within my brain. My heart shattered more times than I can count.

About a year in, we were already getting into frequent arguments. As a result, I started trying to change everything about myself in order to prevent those arguments. That is when the luckiest, most detrimental, best thing happened to me: I was introduced to the law of attraction on the internet.

*Insert some law of attraction stuff I tried and experienced.”

Skip a few years of the worst torment mixed with the best “love” elation I had experienced, about 5 years in, I decided to specifically work on “loving myself.” It was the newest trend in my life at the time and I saw it all over the internet. The problem was, every time I got close to feeling love for myself, that guy I really cared about broke up with me. I swear, every time. It would set me back so far that I felt I had to crawl back to him and practically beg for his love so I could feel worthy again. I would start to feel love for myself and then BAM, another curveball and my self-worth was destroyed by another breakup. I was so confused because I thought that I was doing everything right, so why was I still getting the same outcome? I clung to thinking that if I could just figure out how to change myself the right way, then he would finally love me and we’d have this perfect life. Funny to see now how this played with my pattern of needing to change my environment and my name, but now I was finally looking within and trying to change everything I could there.

I did not have the funds, capability, or desire to see a therapist at the time, although I did try two times in my life. One therapist seemed very judgemental of me, and the other seemed more interested in money. It just didn't seem like trying again was an option for me, but I knew I needed help. So, essentially I said yes to anything that could possibly help me understand myself and how I relate to the world around me. I was extremely open minded and desperate for guidance. I studied the law of attraction and tarot cards; I looked as deeply into astrology, birth charts, and palmistry as I could understand; I read or watched anything that would give me insights or ideas about myself. I analyzed my dreams and wrote out everything I could; I learned how to meditate and I journaled out every thought I had. I watched countless YouTube morning routines, night routines, lifestyle vlogs, and chats from people who seemed to have it all together, and I compiled lists of attributes from those people that I wanted to adopt. I organized my desires into sections so I could make lists of aspects I wanted to be true about my life; Health, Wealth, Love, Home, Friendships, Appearance. Everything that happened to me or around me, I stopped to analyze. I started a yoga and exercise routine and fell in love with BUTI yoga. I made a cleaning schedule, a bedtime schedule, and created a “reading hour”. I listed every single task, hobby, habit I did in my life and organized them all into bullet journal trackers. I looked at every single bad thought I had, tried to find the origin, and rephrased that thought into one that would work for me. You name it, I probably did it. I wanted answers. I did the work.

Eventually, I started to like myself and feel more confident about my own opinions. Coincidentally, for the first time in my life I also developed some characteristics I didn’t WANT to change, although these very same characteristics didn’t seem to be accepted by that guy who kept breaking up with me. The perception of love made me weak but a series of events unfolded where I got so fed up with this pattern that I decided I hated that person and I was never going back. It’s all his fault and he’s so horrible and I’m moving on. That decision changed everything for me. I was going to love myself and that’s that.

Fast forward a little to my life now. I don’t think it was all his fault. At the time, I needed to hate him so I could move on. I mean, he also did some awful things that made him easy to hate BUT that's not at all the point. The point is I kept CHOOSING to go back to him. Why?! That was the real issue. I could have told him long ago, “Bye buddy! See ya never!” … But I didn’t. When I was blinded by what I thought was love, what I couldn’t see was that the work I did on myself WAS working. That person just didn't complement the version of me that loved myself, so he disappeared every time I started to. He was stuck in a low self-esteem loop too and I don’t really blame him for that. He was showing me signs of what is called “avoidant attachment,” and I had what is called “anxious attachment.” As you can imagine, those compliment each other in a devastatingly dramatic and traumatic way. In the version of my life where I love myself, fact is, he's just not the right person for me and I’m not the right person for him. I’m sure he has a devastating tale to tell about me from his perspective, as well. For instance, I know he thought I was bipolar, because he told me so countless times. Although, how could I not be? I was so elated by my law of attraction practices that when all my hopes and dreams were suddenly ripped away from me by a small miscommunication error or a breakup, I felt so distraught that I had to fight for the love I was just feeling not a minute earlier. I really thought he was my only source of love, and so he was absolutely right: I was crazy. Actually, I was insane.

But on my end, every breakup was a test. Every time I found a sense of love for myself, the universe asked, “do you choose yourself this time?”. I didn't understand it at the time because I kept looking for validation and love externally, and I mistakenly thought he was my only source of love. I needed to look internally by owning up to my mistakes and learning what treatment I deserve in a relationship.

Fact is, the old version of me wasn't attracted to someone who treated me right because I didn't treat myself right. He wasn't attracted to me when I love myself because my best version of me is not compatible with who he is. There was someone better for me that I hadn’t known yet, someone who would complement every grown part of me. I know this was a tough lesson that I wouldn’t have been attracted to if I hadn’t needed to learn it.

Even for a while after that blow up, while I was still healing, I analyzed every social interaction until finally I decided it was not my job to figure out what they thought about me. All that matters is what I thought about me and if I had a good time.

So now I'm posted in a home I plan to be in for the rest of my life; MY home. I don't feel unsettled by that, I don't change the furniture every chance I get, and I feel absolutely secure here with my partner that I truly love, who truly loves me back. We make space for each other and we have those tough conversations so neither one of us ever goes a week feeling resentment over the little things. I will never change my name again and I'm making friends that I know will be in my life for a long time. I have a wonderful relationship with my family, whom are now some of my best friends. How?

What it all boils down to is that I just needed to understand what treatment I deserve. Every day I must DECIDE what I like and FORGIVE myself.

I've finally stopped needing to analyze every interaction I have. I accept I'm human and people won't know me til they know me.

I hate comparing my worst to others' worst because fact is, I'm a white female. But at my worst, I felt completely alone in the world, drowning in knee deep water, I seriously contemplated suicide, and I abused alcohol. What I learned from my lowest point is to always find the silver linings in my life. What that means is, every one of my experiences is working FOR me; in every situation I experience, there's always something I can learn that will leave me more wise. I am a better person because of my desperate quest for love. I didn't find love externally until AFTER I made the decision to find it internally. That's a huge realization.

So in my art, I love to play with light amongst a dark background. I feel it suits me. There is always a silver lining, there is always a light to be found amidst the darkness.

A breakdown of my name and why I continually chose CITRINE DAISY:

Citrine is my November birth stone (something I cannot change that I choose to take pride in)

Daisy is so sweet and I have a tendency to be too sweet (something I cannot change that I choose to take pride in)

But I have a fire in me that can be seen in the golden hues of citrine, and a sunlight in me that is depicted right in the center of a daisy.

But something that I really wanted in a name is that it also can relate to many others.

Citrine refers to the ability to feel valuable and confident exactly as I am in this moment, knowing that where I am is not where I will always be and choosing to love myself now anyway; Daisy refers to the innocence required to remain feeling as optimistic, open-minded, and simplistic as my inner child, despite life’s obstacles and adult stressors.

It just kind of all ties in together and works so perfectly that it’s hard to doubt that it’s meant to be.

And now I have that same feeling about my house and my partner. It just fits so nicely. That is called secure attachment.