Meet Christtie Jay

We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Christtie Jay. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Christtie below.

Hi Christtie , thank you so much for opening up with us about some important, but sometimes personal topics. One that really matters to us is overcoming Imposter Syndrome because we’ve seen how so many people are held back in life because of this and so we’d really appreciate hearing about how you overcame Imposter Syndrome.

To be honest, I just became tired. Tired of waiting. Of watching. Of measuring myself against access to rooms and titles. Against the lie that I must first be allowed, before I can arrive. Doubt, has been the biggest waste of my time, my life. And so in the end, I had no choice but to hand it over.

It was tough, don’t get me wrong. Shedding imposter syndrome is not as simple as just choosing confidence. It is practice. Every day. It is stepping into spaces that feel too grand for me and refusing to make myself small. It is wearing my own skin without apology. It’s submitting, right after a no. It’s always in the doing—and doing is hard. It requires courage we don’t always have. Small courage. Big courage.

The trick I think, is to name it. To call it what it is: a ghost built from echoes, not truth, not proof. Then, to do the thing anyway, regardless of how I feel.
The more you do, the more you learn the shape of your own strength, and eventually, you start to trust that strength, to see yourself in ways you couldn’t before.

So when doubt returns, as it always does, I try not to kneel to it. Are there bad days? Of course. There are even days when I actually am an imposter, fumbling through something I don’t yet know how to do. I will always be bad at something. I will write many bad poems, climb stages big and small and forget my lines. There will always be someone that my art will not be for just the same way some artists are not for me. But I’ve learned not to make a home for fear or doubt. To never listen when it whispers.

Appreciate the insights and wisdom. Before we dig deeper and ask you about the skills that matter and more, maybe you can tell our readers about yourself?

I used to call myself a multidisciplinary artist, but if I had to describe myself now, I would just say I’m a storyteller. It’s the thread that’s running through everything I do, whether that be poetry, prose, or performance. My journey started on Instagram, sharing what I called poetry. It’s funny to think back on those first pieces now, but language is restless, always demanding more. Over time, my writing pushed beyond those small squares, stretching and finding new forms that didn’t fit neatly into any one category. So while poetry is my foundation, I’m always reaching beyond it.

My practice is shaped by introspection, social critique, and the refusal to look away from the messy, complicated truths of being human. What draws me to language as a storyteller is its ability to hold contradictions, to name, capture memory, and revisit pasts or futures. The way language, like water, takes the shape of whatever it’s poured into always, always, leaves me in awe.

I’m also drawn to how storytelling, when done right, has the power to affect people deeply. I can be on stage, performing a poem, and see it in the audience—the shock, the surprise, the pain, the love. It’s written across their faces, and it’s that reaction that affects me. That excites, humbles, and sometimes even surprises me. Like, did I do that?

Right now, as I’ve recently relocated, I’m planning my first solo show in the UK for August. We’re finalizing the details—dates, venues, everything, and I’m beyond excited. There are new poems, plays, I’m experimenting with AR and I just can’t wait to share it with a new audience.

If you had to pick three qualities that are most important to develop, which three would you say matter most?

The three qualities that have been most impactful in my journey are resilience, self-trust, and endurance.

Resilience matters because rejection is inevitable for an artist. No matter how skilled or passionate you are, you will send out work that you have bled over, poured your time and pennies into, only to be met with silence or dismissal. It stings—always. Especially early on, when every ‘no’ feels like confirmation that you don’t belong. But rejection is not proof of failure; it is proof that you are in motion.
To survive the artist’s life, you must separate your work from your worth. An unpublished poet is not a failed poet. Even in silence, the actor exists, waiting for the curtains to rise. Practise. Fail. Try. Submit. Again and again. Until the right door opens.

Then there is self-trust, which is just as necessary as resilience but harder to hold onto. At the beginning, it is easy to measure your words against others. To look around at the voices getting recognition and wonder if you are writing the ‘right kind’ of poetry, music, whatever. Especially when the no’s start arriving. I won’t lie—in the beginning, I imitated. Unconsciously at first, and then deliberately, trying to mold my voice into something more recognizable, more acceptable. But the more I did, the more I started to vanish. Every artist must, at some point, choose themselves. Choose their voice, no matter how strange, how unlike anyone else’s, how absent of awards. If you dull those edges in search of approval, you risk losing the very thing that makes you necessary.

And then, there is endurance. Being an artist, whether poet or painter, writer or musician is not a sprint. Not even a marathon. It is something slower, more like erosion—the steady carving of a voice over time. Some years, the wins will flood in. Others, they won’t.

So if you are on this path, make rejection familiar. Let it sting, but do not let it stop you. Do. When no one is in the gallery. Do, in spite. With the applause or without. The work is in the doing. The quiet persistence of creating even when no one is watching or listening. If all else falls away, the accolades, the publications, the fleeting recognition—let the work remain.

Okay, so before we go we always love to ask if you are looking for folks to partner or collaborate with?

As a Storyteller working at the intersection of poetry, music, photography, and theatre, I’m always looking to collaborate with musicians, filmmakers, theatre practitioners, and other writers.

If you are someone who feels language like coal in your chest, who believes in art that lingers, who loves to create, let’s connect. Let’s experiment, learn, push boundaries and build something, together.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://christtiejay.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christtie_jay?igsh=M2t1NmUxcHNjZ29z&utm_source=qr
• Youtube: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL3tvS4N28BWndHX2qzkW8a1GfFPZjC5XL&feature=shared
• Other: https://ffm.to/christtiejay

Image Credits

Photo 3: Orange Poetry