The woman who owns the Guinness World Record for having the most body modifications has issued a strong caution to those who are copying her.
Due of her peculiar appearance, Maria José Cristerna has earned the nickname “real-life vampire.” She has spent much of her life accumulating tattoos. At the age of fourteen, she got her first tattoo.
The Mexican woman has solidified her position as the most changed woman in the Guinness World Records for 2022 with a total of 50 bodily alterations.
Cristerna has undergone a number of strange physical changes, including several piercings, implants in her arms and forehead, a split tongue, and an incredible array of tattoos that nearly completely cover her body, including her eyeballs.
Speaking with Guinness World Records, Cristerna said that her father wasn’t initially in favor of the plan. However, he then accompanied me to the tattoo parlor where I got my first ever tattoo.
She declared, “Art runs through my veins,” underscoring her profound commitment to the arts. I have loved art since I was a small child, and I can now express it with my body.
She ascribes her transformations to a ten-year abusive and oppressive marriage and works to support other women who have suffered similar emotional, mental, and physical violence.Love for oneself is the only path out of abuse and violence. “We came here to be happy,” she declared.
Her physical transformations serve as symbols of her strength, perseverance, and freedom from her past.
Every change has a certain significance, but Cristerna discovered that the most painful ones were the pigmentation in her eyes and the implants put in her arms.
Cristerna, who is celebrating her Guinness World Records title, is unwavering in her commitment to expressing herself.
“Your ambitions are always within your reach. There are no restrictions. If you put your mind to something, nothing is impossible, the woman proclaimed.
Her goal is to get tattoos covering every inch of her body, with the confident declaration, “I don’t care what people think about me.” I ranked myself highest. The key thing is that I am aware of who I am.
Cristerna did, however, offer a word of caution to young people considering making equally extreme changes: “It is irreversible, so you have to think it through very carefully.”
She went on, “I adore how I look, but you have to realize that there are young kids that are really accepting of piercings, tattoos, and all of that. We can eventually reach a point where it no longer fulfills our desires and we might grow tired of it since it has become trendy.
Therefore, in order to love it and be able to defend it for the rest of your life, you have to give it a lot of thought.
Even though the “Vampire Woman,” who wrote earlier this week about getting a new tattoo, advised others not to get tattoos until they were completely confident about them, she is still getting tattooed.
She shared a photo of her most recent makeover, which included a tattoo artist working on her back, on Instagram. An accompanying caption reads, “My brother’s tiger Rene Camarena Laus Satanus deserves one more stripe.”
We can’t believe what we see when we see her pre-ink appearance!
I Felt Disappointed That My Grandfather Left Me Just an Old Apiary, but My Perspective Changed When I Inspected the Beehives
My late grandfather, a master storyteller who spun tales of buried treasure, left me a rather unexpected inheritance: a dusty old apiary. It felt like a cruel joke at first. Who would leave their grandchild a shack swarming with bees? My resentment lingered until the day I finally ventured into the beehives.
One typical morning, Aunt Daphne urged me to pack my bag for school, but I was too busy texting a friend about the upcoming dance and my crush, Scott. When she mentioned my grandfather’s dreams for me, my frustration grew. I had no interest in tending to his bees; I just wanted to enjoy my teenage life.
The next day, Aunt Daphne chastised me for my neglect, threatening to ground me. She insisted that caring for the apiary was part of my responsibility. Despite my protests, I reluctantly agreed to check on the hives. Donning protective gear, I opened the first hive, my heart racing. A bee stung my glove, and for a moment, I considered quitting. But a rush of determination took over, and I pressed on, hoping to show Aunt Daphne I could handle this.
While harvesting honey, I discovered a weathered plastic bag containing a faded map. Excited, I tucked it into my pocket and raced home to grab my bike. Following the map, I pedaled into the woods, recalling my grandfather’s stories that had once enchanted me.
I found myself in a clearing resembling a scene from one of his tales—the old gamekeeper’s house stood before me, decaying but still captivating. Memories flooded back of lazy afternoons spent there, listening to his stories. Touching the gnarled tree nearby, I recalled his playful warnings about the gnomes that supposedly lurked in the woods.
Inside the forgotten cabin, I uncovered a beautifully carved metal box. Inside was a note from Grandpa: “To my dear Robyn, this box contains a treasure for you, but do not open it until your journey’s true end” Though tempted, I knew I had to honor his wishes.
After exploring further, I realized I was lost and panic set in. Remembering Grandpa’s advice to stay calm, I pressed on, searching for a familiar path. Eventually, I stumbled upon the bridge he often spoke of, but it felt further away than I had hoped. Exhausted and disoriented, I collapsed beneath a tree, longing for home.
The next morning, determined to find my way, I recalled Grandpa’s lessons as I navigated through the wilderness. I found a river but was startled when I slipped into the icy water. Fighting against the current, I finally managed to cling to a log, eventually dragging myself to shore.
Soaked and trembling, I rummaged through my backpack, only to find stale crumbs. When I remembered Grandpa’s wisdom, I used healing leaves for my cuts and continued onward, drawn by the sound of rushing water. I finally reached the river again, but the water was treacherous. Desperate, I knelt to drink, but the current swept me away, and I found myself struggling against the powerful flow.
Determined not to give up, I let go of my backpack but clung to the metal box. With sheer will, I fought my way to the bank, finally escaping the icy grasp of the river. I needed shelter, so I built a makeshift one from branches under a sturdy oak tree.
The next morning, I set out once more, the metal box feeling like my only lifeline. Memories of fishing trips with Grandpa warmed me, urging me forward. When I finally spotted the bridge, hope surged within me. But the forest began to close in around me, confusion and despair threatening to overwhelm me. Just when I thought I couldn’t go on, I found a clearing and collapsed, utterly spent.
Then, I heard voices calling my name. I awoke in a hospital bed with Aunt Daphne by my side. Overcome with regret, I apologized for everything. She comforted me, reminding me of Grandpa’s unconditional love and how he always believed in me.
As she reached into her bag, my heart raced when I recognized the familiar blue wrapping paper. It was an Xbox, a gift from Grandpa, meant to be given only when I understood the value of hard work. I realized then that I had learned that lesson, and the desire for the gift faded.
In the following years, I grew into my responsibilities, embracing the lessons my grandfather imparted. Now, as a mother myself, I reflect on those moments with gratitude. The sweet honey from my bees serves as a cherished reminder of the bond I shared with Grandpa, a bond that continues to guide me.
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