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.

I used to make my life sound more interesting, successful and desirable than it really was—not simply to impress people, but because I didn’t believe the real me was enough. In this deeply personal conversation, I explore how childhood loneliness became perfectionism, how rejection was disguised as choice, and how my desire to appear successful followed me into friendships, dating and business. Because when people approved of the edited version of me, their approval never truly reached me—and perhaps honesty begins when we stop treating the truth of who we are as something that needs improving.

What happens when your dreams stop inspiring you and start replacing your real life?

In this deeply personal episode, I explore the difference between imagination, manifestation and escapism.

For years I built elaborate fantasy versions of my future. Some eventually became reality. Others simply distracted me from appreciating the life I'd already built.

This is an honest conversation about perfectionism, purpose, relationships, identity and learning to be fully present inside your own life.

Because maybe the goal isn't to stop dreaming...

Maybe it's to stop missing today while dreaming about tomorrow.

I think I’m lonelier than I sometimes admit.

It’s strange to say that when I have a partner I love, close friendships, a full life and people around me. But I’m beginning to realise that being alone and feeling lonely are two very different things.

In this episode of Dear Christiano, I’m exploring something I’m still figuring out in real time: the loneliness of feeling different, the loneliness that can exist inside relationships, the loneliness that comes with outgrowing people—and the uncomfortable possibility that sometimes the walls we build to protect ourselves might also be keeping connection out.

From growing up feeling like “the only gay in the village,” to having a million friends, getting sober, leaving my old life behind, moving to Bali and rebuilding from scratch, my relationship with loneliness has changed enormously.

But it hasn’t disappeared.

And maybe it isn’t supposed to.

Maybe loneliness isn’t always something we need to fix.

Maybe sometimes it’s simply reminding us that, underneath all our independence, discernment and “people annoy the shit out of me” energy… we still want to be known.

Not by everyone.

By the right people.