Have you ever been curious about how certain people you like have come to this point in their life? I think my favorite type of lecture is biographies, especially autobiographies.
It fascinates me to know what they’ve been through, what were their challenges, and their process.
I want to get more personal and tell you (a small part of) my story. Since space, time, and attention span are limited resources nowadays, it will be short but I hope you’ll like it.
It is frightening but exciting to share my personal life and journey to this point with you. It’s like being naked in front of hundreds of people. Except I’m not a pornstar. (yet?)
People ask me all the time:
“How did you get here? What does it take?”
In my case: a cocktail of trauma-induced hyper-independency (not having to face the scary fact that I might need to rely on others), a decent amount of failures with a sprinkle of frustration and daily grinding.
Let me tell you, it was not fluffy pink.
There’s no easy or fast way. (unless you were born in a rich family) But even if your parents give you everything, it might not be enough. You still have to work hard at it but the difference is you’ll start at a whole other level than others.
Imagine two people in a classroom. One has everything they need: a bench, a chair, paper, and a pen. The other has nothing. The first person can start learning right away. The other has to build or find these objects to start learning. It sets a difference right from the beginning.
That’s how I felt most of my life.
Like I was lacking something — resources and money.
I needed to build the damn bench on my own and nobody wanted to borrow me a pen either.
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It was the year ‘95. A baby was born in Galati, Romania at 19:45. Soon-to-be called Livia but at first, they thought Ana-Maria Monica was better. Thank God they changed their mind.
My mother used to draw with me a lot when I was very little. She had a natural talent for drawing but never pursued this path. In school, she often made the best paintings in art class but the teachers didn’t believe the work was hers. She grew up in a harsh, Communist environment. It must’ve been horrible to have your work denied by teachers. Art wasn’t seen as a career path back then, especially for women.
I come from a modest family. We didn’t lack anything but we didn’t have much either.
My parents worked hard every day so that I can have a decent living. All my life I thought I was middle class but I realized later on in life that my family was actually the lower class.
I always wanted to go study abroad but we didn’t have the money for this. This built up a lot of frustration on my end. Frustration that I would later sublimate carefully into drive and determination. I decided early on to show up for myself every day and I still do to this day.
I was the kind of kid that picked the most expensive thing in the shop without looking at the price. I always wanted the most beautiful things — which were also the most expensive. And I usually wasn’t satisfied with how much pocket money my parents gave me at school.
At 9 years old I realized that I need to make my own money somehow — I wasn’t going to compromise on my taste or wishes.
In kindergarten and primary school, teachers would usually use my drawings as examples for the rest of the class. In 4th grade, I already figured this was something I’m good at. I was a resourceful kid, always finding ways to get what I want so I figured: why not make some money with what I’m good at?
Soon enough, I was making the drawings for my other classmates for money. They usually gave me their pocket money to get their art class homework done. They got a 10 and I would get the extra cash I wanted.
I was thinking to myself: this feels good! I was doing something I enjoyed AND even made money out of it.
This was the starting point of what I’m doing today. I chased that feeling again and again up until this moment.