We recently connected with Cristela Carrizales and have shared our conversation below.

Cristela, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. We’d love to hear about when you first realized that you wanted to pursue a creative path professionally.

I have a photo of myself at about three years old, standing in front of an entertainment center, holding a jump rope like it’s a microphone. That’s the earliest evidence I have of my lifelong desire to perform.
As an only child who grew up feeling largely unseen, I spent a lot of time in my bedroom playing make-believe. I would act out every part of my “It’s The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown” LP, sing songs, make up dance routines. By the time I was ten, I was telling anyone who would listen that I wanted to be a singer and an actress.
What I didn’t have language for then was this: the moment I stepped in front of people and opened my mouth, something shifted. I was seen. I was heard. And for a kid who had felt invisible, that kind of validation is powerful. I spent many years chasing that feeling.
What’s changed is why I create. Today, it’s not about being seen — it’s about seeing others. My work, especially my one-woman show Begin Again Badge, is rooted in creating space for people who feel alone or unseen, the way I once did. That little girl with the jump rope was expressing her joy. The child in the bedroom was searching for her soul. Now, the adult woman I am in the world gets to create connection through her art.

Cristela, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

I’m a performer, singer, writer, and storyteller who builds work at the intersection of comedy, vulnerability, and lived experience. At my core, I’m someone who learned how to turn pain into connection—and, often, into a punchline.
I got into this work the way a lot of artists do—by needing it. I grew up feeling largely unseen, and performance became the first place I felt fully present and acknowledged. What started as a need for validation eventually evolved into something much more intentional: creating spaces where other people feel seen too.
My background is rooted in theatre and live performance, and over time that’s expanded into improvisation, original storytelling, solo performance, and music. My one-woman show, Begin Again Badge, blends humor, honesty, and song to explore resilience, identity, and what it means to rebuild your when it doesn’t go as planned.
Alongside my performance work, I’ve developed a parallel path in leadership development through the lens of improvisational theatre. I design and facilitate workshops that use improv principles—like active listening, adaptability, trust, and communication—to help professionals become more effective, present, and human-centered leaders. I bring context to conceptual ideas. It’s the same skill set that makes great performers; it just translates directly into how we show up at work and in relationship to others. I truly believe it is life-changing work.
If there’s a throughline in body of my work, it’s connection. Whether I’m on stage or in a training room, I’m focused on closing the gap between people—helping individuals feel seen, heard, and more confident in how they engage with the world. As Brene Brown says, ““It’s hard to hate people close up. Move in.”
What sets me apart is that I don’t separate performance from purpose. I’m not interested in creating work that only impresses—I want to create work that lands. I’m willing to be specific, vulnerable, and even uncomfortable if it means telling the truth in a way that actually reaches people not just intellectually, but viscerally.
What I’m most proud of isn’t just the work itself, but the impact of it—the moments when someone feels less alone, or when a room shifts because people are finally connecting in a real way.
At the end of the day, my work lives in that intersection of art and humanity. I create experiences—on stage and in organizations—that remind people they’re not alone, and give them the tools to show up more fully in their own lives.
As I often say, I’m not here to inspire you—I’m here to remind you that you can survive too.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

I grew up as a chubby kid who became an obese adult. I’m also a Latina—two identities that, historically, haven’t had a lot of space in the traditional Western theatrical canon. Very early on, I was trained to look a certain way, act a certain way, and present myself in ways that would make me more “castable.”

As actors, we’re often taught to neutralize ourselves—to become as blank and adaptable as possible so we can be whatever someone else wants us to be. And then we wait. We stand in front of decision-makers and hope they choose us.

That’s the lesson I had to unlearn.

Because the truth is, art—like life—doesn’t begin when someone else chooses you. It begins when you choose yourself.

I remember reading Mindy Kaling’s book “Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?”, and she talks about realizing the industry wasn’t creating space for someone like her—so she created space for herself. That idea stuck with me, and I wish I had embraced it sooner.

In 2010, I wrote my first one-woman cabaret show, Short, Round, and Brown (One Woman Plus). It was a collection of songs I knew I’d never be cast in—because I was too short, too round, and too brown. But it was also the first time I created work that actually reflected who I was on stage.

Around that same time, I found improvisational comedy because I was tired of being pigeonholed. And when I did, my creative identity exploded.

Now, the majority of my work comes from what I create myself or build alongside like-minded collaborators. I don’t wait to be chosen anymore.

If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s this: you don’t have to wait for permission to create. Start where you are. Make the thing. When your work is rooted in who you actually are and what you’re meant to do, opportunities have a way of finding you.

So create—because you’re called to, not because you’re waiting to be picked. The platform will come. The work comes first.

We’d love to hear a story of resilience from your journey.

There were seasons in my life where everything felt like it was collapsing at once. I was navigating the aftermath of childhood trauma, an unhealthy relationship, a toxic work environment, and more. The weight of what I was carrying led to my struggle with alcohol. From the outside, I could still perform, still show up, still be “on.” But internally, I was exhausted from trying to hold everything together. I was a high-functioning alcoholic and depressive—until I could no longer function at all.

I remember hitting a point where I realized I couldn’t keep living two separate lives—the one people saw and the one I was barely surviving in. That was the shift. I no longer wanted to live in pain, waiting for someone else to love and choose me. I had to learn to choose myself. To integrate those two identities into something whole.

That didn’t happen overnight—and that’s where the work lives.

It wasn’t a dramatic transformation, but a quiet, intentional decision to start choosing myself in small ways. To get honest. To get help. To rebuild my life piece by piece—even when it was uncomfortable, slow, and terrifying.

That season didn’t just change my life—it changed my work. It’s why I create what I create now. It’s why Begin Again Badge exists. Because I know what it feels like to not know how to move forward—and I also know that it’s possible to rebuild from there.

Resilience, for me, hasn’t been one moment—it’s the culmination of many. It isn’t about being untouched by hardship. It’s about what you choose to do after it. There was a time in my life when I chose wanting to leave this world. Now, I choose making it a more beautiful place to be. The difference is healing.

I often say that while I wish addiction on no one, I wish the recovery process on everyone—because we all have something to recover from.

I recover loudly so others don’t have to suffer silently. I frame that message through comedy, vulnerability, joy, and pain. Because I’m still here—creating, connecting. I’ve been given a second chance to rebuild my life, and I’m choosing one that feels honest and fully my own. And I hope others choose that for themselves, too.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @beginagainbadge @jusumgirl
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/beginagainbadge
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/cristela-carrizales-0b867b70/
• Other: Information about my show with Lifeline Productions, Inc, in Sarasota, FL, June 2026, can be found on their website.

Image Credits

Dennis Spielman
David Steele