In 1997, I left Jamaica — the place that birthed me, shaped me, gave me my confidence, my essence, my first loss — and moved to the Cayman Islands.
In 2015, I left the Cayman Islands — the place that broke me down, confused me. It gave me my first experiences of bullying and self-hate. It tore me to my core. But it also gave me my first love. My first heartbreak. My first real and fake friendships. My first encounters with colourism, and the first time I shrunk myself just to fit in.
It was the place where I first had sex. Smoked weed. Had my first “home.” And most importantly, it gave me Aria — my air, my everything, my daughter. Cayman gave me you, the best gift I could have ever received.
And I moved to Germany. I was recruited to play basketball — my first professional creative experience. I was excited. I hated it. Lol. Eventually, by the summer of 2016, I settled in Berlin.
I didn’t have a master plan. But I had music. Music in me that deserved to be heard.
Berlin felt like a portal — full of culture, experimentation, rhythm.
It gave me space to grow as an artist. It became my training ground, my sanctuary, the first place where I could truly breathe as a creative. And I did. I had my first paid performance — €100. My first album release. My first festival gig. My first time feeling confident again since Cayman.
I blossomed. I formed a band. Built real friendships. Met my first real best friend, Maiy — I love that woman to the depths of my soul. Berlin gave me life. It gave me breath. It gave me a new outlook. I adore you, Berlin.
I took the leap and decided to pursue music fully. No safety net. No backup plan. Just me, a fire in my chest, and a lot of layered clothing. Over the years, I built a name for myself — touring across Germany and Europe, playing festivals, getting press, and creating some of my best work to date. It wasn’t always easy, but I could survive.
I could create. I could be seen. I could afford to be an artist in Berlin.
But in 2022, I made my boldest move yet — this time, to the UK. I believed my career was peaking, that this relocation would level me up. Instead, it brought me to my knees. The UK market was a different beast:
More competitive. More accessible but Far out of reach and far far more expensive to live in.
I went from stability to struggling to keep the lights on. Slowly, I spiralled into over €40,000 in debt.
I owed money to creatives I had worked with. I wasn’t being paid what I was worth.
There was a point where I was homeless, standing outside the Hackney Council building, daughter in hand. No family here. No fall-back. Just a few good people… and a whole lot of faith.
I don’t share this for sympathy — I share it because it’s the truth. People see the shows, the glam, the art — but not the invoices left unpaid. Not the moments of fear. Not the deep grief that comes with financial instability.
Especially when you’re a mother. Especially when you’re independent.
Now, I’m in a place of rebuilding. Paying down the debt, piece by piece. Trying to repair relationships fractured by money. Still creating. Still performing. Still writing. Because I have to. Because this is my calling. And because even when life feels like a storm, I refuse to let my gift drown in the chaos. Being an independent artist is beautiful — but it’s brutal too.
In Germany, I could survive on music. In the UK, I’ve had to fight to even stay afloat. What breaks my heart most is knowing I have so much to give — Music. Poetry. Visuals. Ideas. But not always the platform, or the funding, to share them freely. Still, I wake up and push. Not because I’m fearless, But because the fear doesn’t get to win.
This blog, InDeependetly Speaking, is my space to tell the truth.
Not the highlight reel — the whole reel.
It’s for those walking similar paths.
It’s for the underdog.
It’s for the mothers, the aliens, the dreamers, the genre-benders, the believers.
If you're reading this, thank you.
Whether you buy a song, share a post, or simply hold space —
It matters more than you know.
I’m still here.
I’m still creating.
And even through all of it, I’m still finding ways to be happy —
Truly happy — inside the storm.
In courage, music, truth and all my love
Caxxianne
P.S.
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