Now, as an Wholistic Muse (guide to one's self) and author, she teaches others how to love themselves healthy. Christy is trained in eight healing modalities, including: a Reiki, EFT, reflexology, massage therapy, and a crystal healer, all of which aided in her discovery of how to heal herself naturally. These life-changing skills also served as the foundation to enhancing her gift as an intuitive healer.
She has been recognized for her knowledge of the chakra system (by best-selling author of the Chakra Bible, Patricia Mercier), gemstone healing, and energy medicine. She also contributes to several online publications on the subject of holistic healing and offers individual coaching, e-courses, and workshops all designed to assist and encourage others on their journey toward a better, fuller life. Christy also loves to use her gift of writing to help others. In her book Chakra Wellness: 7 Ways to Renew the Total she dives into the seven chakra centers from a mind-body-soul perspective. Readers learn how to discern key issues, heal imbalances, and maintain energetic barriers to eliminate stress and increase their overall well-being.
her latest release, Little Miss Somebody, Christy wears her heart on her sleeve and delivers a poignant tale of love and sacrifice. To learn more about Christy and her mission visit www.christylynnabram.com.
Fourteen-year-old Nikki’s world is turned upside down when her mother makes an impulsive move to Missouri. Having left everything she knew behind, Nikki is left to fend for herself from her mother’s vicious cycle of abuse and abandonment while living at her grandmother’s house amidst her mother’s drug addicted siblings.
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Fourteen-year-old Nikki’s world is turned upside down when her mother makes an impulsive move to Missouri. Having left everything she knew behind, Nikki is left to fend for herself from her mother’s vicious cycle of abuse and abandonment while living at her grandmother’s house amidst her mother’s drug addicted siblings.
Feeling unloved and more than ever like a burden, Nikki seeks to find a missing piece to the puzzle of her life- her father. Along the way, she unravels more layers of family abuse and pain causing her to feel helpless. But she won’t give up. Not yet, Not Nikki. Not until she finds what she is looking for.
Will Nikki find the love she so desperately needs?
“HEY, WHITE GIRL!” I heard a voice as I passed by. I turned to find the lead G-G (Ghetto Girl), Sophia, standing with her hand on her hip.
I took a deep breath and answered, “Yeah?”
“I heard you’ve been talking to my boyfriend, Arthur.”
“Who?”
“You know who I’m talking about. Don’t play stupid!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shook my head in puzzlement.
“Arthur said you stalked him at Saint’s until he gave you his number, even though he told you he had a girlfriend.”
I wanted to tell Sophia that it was the other way around, but I knew it would only infuriate her.
“Sorry, I think you have the wrong person.”
“No, I don’t. He described you. The dirty girl from Washington who thinks she’s white.” Sophia’s crew burst into laughter as she stood there with her arms crossed, staring me up and down. I was pissed, but instead of arguing back, I muttered, “Whatever,” and walked off.
“That’s alright. You ain’t going to be saying ‘whatever’ when I kick your ass after school!”
I knew I shouldn’t have told Arthur where I went to school. It wasn’t like we went out or anything. He was just a boy I met at Saint’s a couple of weeks ago. All we did was talk on the phone. Besides, I liked someone else—an older boy named André.
Oh, man, what have I gotten myself into? I thought.
The G-Gs were always giving me problems for no reason. I think they were mad because the boys at school liked me; they were always calling me “cutie” and “fine.” The G-Gs constantly called me names like “dirty white girl” because I spoke “proper,” or “white”, as they called it. They also hated the fact that I was light-skinned with what black people call “good hair.”
They were the reason I hated King Middle School. It was rough and harsh—a lot different than my school in Washington State. At that moment, I really missed Washington. I had a lot of friends there and never had to worry about girls trying to fight me over stupid stuff. Honestly, I was tired of fighting.
Now, I’d had my share of rumbles, but the G-Gs were professionals. If they knew they couldn’t beat someone, they would jump them. I was scared, but I wasn’t going to stand there and let them punk me. My plan was to hit as many of them as possible and try to get away. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but it was worth a try.
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St. Louis, Missouri 1993
“HEY, WHITE GIRL!” I heard a voice as I passed by. I turned to find the lead G-G (Ghetto Girl), Sophia, standing with her hand on her hip.
I took a deep breath and answered, “Yeah?”
“I heard you’ve been talking to my boyfriend, Arthur.”
“Who?”
“You know who I’m talking about. Don’t play stupid!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shook my head in puzzlement.
“Arthur said you stalked him at Saint’s until he gave you his number, even though he told you he had a girlfriend.”
I wanted to tell Sophia that it was the other way around, but I knew it would only infuriate her.
“Sorry, I think you have the wrong person.”
“No, I don’t. He described you. The dirty girl from Washington who thinks she’s white.” Sophia’s crew burst into laughter as she stood there with her arms crossed, staring me up and down. I was pissed, but instead of arguing back, I muttered, “Whatever,” and walked off.
“That’s alright. You ain’t going to be saying ‘whatever’ when I kick your ass after school!”
I knew I shouldn’t have told Arthur where I went to school. It wasn’t like we went out or anything. He was just a boy I met at Saint’s a couple of weeks ago. All we did was talk on the phone. Besides, I liked someone else—an older boy named André.
Oh, man, what have I gotten myself into? I thought.
The G-Gs were always giving me problems for no reason. I think they were mad because the boys at school liked me; they were always calling me “cutie” and “fine.” The G-Gs constantly called me names like “dirty white girl” because I spoke “proper,” or “white”, as they called it. They also hated the fact that I was light-skinned with what black people call “good hair.”
They were the reason I hated King Middle School. It was rough and harsh—a lot different than my school in Washington State. At that moment, I really missed Washington. I had a lot of friends there and never had to worry about girls trying to fight me over stupid stuff. Honestly, I was tired of fighting.
Now, I’d had my share of rumbles, but the G-Gs were professionals. If they knew they couldn’t beat someone, they would jump them. I was scared, but I wasn’t going to stand there and let them punk me. My plan was to hit as many of them as possible and try to get away. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but it was worth a try.
I love this book! Thanks for sharing Christy's story. :)
ReplyDeleteNo problem! Hope the spotlight helps her get new readers. :-D
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