Dear Christiano

What happens when you spend years changing yourself to be accepted, only to realise that people might not know the real you?

In this deeply personal episode of Dear Christiano, I explore growing up gay, childhood bullying, people-pleasing, and the different versions of myself I created to feel worthy of love. From Christopher becoming Christiano to the exhaustion of performing in friendships, relationships, and workplaces, this is a conversation about self-acceptance, identity, and learning to belong without abandoning yourself.

Because being loved and being truly known aren't always the same thing.

I’m 40. I’ve been openly gay for about half my life.

So why am I still coming out?

In this deeply personal episode of Dear Christiano, I revisit my coming-out story — from being bullied with gay slurs before I understood what they meant, to standing in front of a mirror crying because I physically couldn’t say “I’m gay.”

I talk about telling someone for the first time, being outed at work, homophobic bullying from a manager, secretly discovering Sydney’s gay community, living a double life, coming out to my family, and eventually turning something I once carried with enormous shame into something I deeply value about myself.

But this isn’t only a story about coming out.

It’s about why LGBTQIA+ people can spend a lifetime doing it.

Every new person. Every assumption. Every new room. Every decision about whether to say “he,” “she,” “partner,” or nothing at all.

At 40, I’m no longer asking whether I’m allowed to be gay.

I’m deciding who gets access to that part of me.

And that changes everything.

Who would I be if I wasn't gay?

Not who would I have dated. Not who would I have slept with.

Who would I actually be?

In this episode, I trace the thread of being gay through my entire life—from being bullied as a little boy before I even understood what gay meant, to masculinity, body image, sex, partying, relationships, loneliness, ambition, burnout, healing, Bali and the creative work I'm building today.

Because some of the things I once thought were simply parts of my personality weren't.

Some were armour.

Some were survival skills.

And some of those survival skills eventually became my greatest strengths.

Being gay isn't my entire identity—but when I look closely, it's woven through almost all of it.

So would I choose to have been straight if I could?

Let's talk about it.

I used to think there would be a number in my bank account where I'd finally feel safe.

I've had savings. I've had more than $30,000 in credit card debt. I've spent five years paying it back. I've watched investments collapse and recover. I've left a secure career, built businesses, invested money, made money, lost money and done some pretty deep work on my relationship with it.

And yet… a few empty nights on an Airbnb calendar can still make that old financial anxiety come rushing back.

In this episode of Dear Christiano, I'm unpacking where my money mindset came from, the scarcity and caution I absorbed growing up, the financial mistakes I made, the breakthrough that changed the way I approach money and the uncomfortable truth that earning more doesn't automatically make you feel safer.

Because if I had a million dollars in the bank, owned my home and had everything paid off, I genuinely think I'd feel financially safe.

But would I?

Or would I simply move the goalposts again?

This isn't financial advice. It's an honest conversation about money, fear, wealth, uncertainty and learning to hold onto yourself while the numbers move.

What happens when someone you love is going through a dark chapter — and their darkness starts landing on you?

In this deeply personal episode, Christiano opens up about the complicated reality of loving someone through mental health struggles, emotional overwhelm and periods where the relationship itself begins to feel unsafe.

After five years together, he reflects on feeling like the emotional punching bag, walking on eggshells, questioning whether to stay, and the uncomfortable truth that understanding why somebody behaves a certain way doesn't make their behaviour hurt any less.

This is a conversation about forgiveness versus trust, loving someone versus carrying them, falling in love with potential, rebuilding emotional safety, and recognising that you cannot heal somebody who isn't ready to heal themselves.

There isn't a neat ending here.

There is love. There has been hurt. There is hope. There is change. And there is still a part of him waiting to see whether that change lasts.

Because loving somebody through a dark chapter doesn't mean climbing inside the darkness with them.

Sometimes the answer isn't loving harder.

It's learning how to love differently.

Content note: This episode discusses mental health struggles, emotional dysregulation and difficult relationship dynamics.

A night out at a gay club brought back memories of my twenties, the friends who shaped those years, and a version of myself I sometimes miss. But it also reminded me that I wouldn't give up the life I've created to go back.

In this episode, I explore the complicated grief of old friendships, the relationships we leave behind as we grow, and what recent experiences have taught me about communication, reciprocity, boundaries, and letting new people in.

I also share reflections from a personal relationship breakthrough, including how old wounds can influence the way we approach new friendships, and why I'm learning to be selective without becoming closed off.

Ultimately, this is a conversation about more than what we want from other people. It's about what we're willing to give, the kind of friend we want to be, and making room for more connection, queer joy, and meaningful relationships in the next chapter of life.

You can miss the past without wanting it back. And you can love your life while still choosing more.

Eight years ago, I travelled alone to Peru and drank ayahuasca seven times over two weeks.

I went there after reaching a breaking point.

From the outside, my life looked successful. Underneath it, I was lonely, guarded, abusing substances and carrying years of shame, rejection and unresolved experiences.

Ayahuasca didn't magically fix my life.

But something happened in Peru that changed the way I saw myself — and looking back eight years later, I can see a series of decisions that eventually created a completely different life.

In this episode of Dear Christiano, I'm going back to who I was before Peru, the experiences that affected me most, what changed when I came home, what didn't change, the years of integration that followed and the question I've been thinking about ever since:

Who would I be today if I'd never gone?

Because maybe transformation isn't the moment everything changes.

Maybe it's the moment something cracks open — and what we choose to do afterwards.

This episode reflects my personal experience and is not medical advice or a recommendation to use ayahuasca or other psychedelics.

What happens when you believe in something before there's any evidence that it's going to work?

This week, I found myself deep inside one of the most intense creative periods I've experienced in years — creating around 30 LGBTQIA+ songs, building a new music project from scratch and spending entire days completely absorbed in bringing an idea to life.

And hardly anybody is watching yet.

There's no viral success story. No huge numbers. No proof this is going to work.

But I can see it.

In this episode of Dear Christiano, I'm exploring what happens when clarity creates momentum, work starts feeling like somewhere you're being pulled, and belief arrives before evidence.

But I'm also questioning the uncomfortable side of it. When does creative flow become obsession? Is changing the plan sometimes self-awareness rather than procrastination? And do we always need perfect balance — or are there seasons when we're allowed to go all in?

Maybe you don't need proof yet.

Maybe you just need enough belief to take the next step.

What can you see for yourself that doesn't exist yet?

Why is it sometimes easier to completely stop than to simply find balance? After another intense reset — including an 84-hour water fast — I’m questioning my relationship with discipline, queer body image, indulgence, healthy habits and why stripping everything away seems to unlock something creatively in me.

Because maybe the hardest part isn't stopping. Maybe it's learning how to build a life you don't constantly need to reset from.

I love having my family visit. I also really love when they leave. 😂

After having family stay in my home, I started questioning why the people we love can trigger us in ways almost nobody else can — and whether I sometimes confuse "different from me" with "less evolved than me."

This is a conversation about family, siblings, boundaries, judgment, people-pleasing and learning that loving someone doesn't mean fixing them. Because sometimes what we're calling dysfunction might simply be difference.