We were lucky to catch up with Alycia Rainaud recently and have shared our conversation below.

Alycia, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. We’d love to go back in time and hear the story of how you came up with the name of your brand?

Absolutely, naming is one of the hardest parts of creating something new. It’s like finding a title that encapsulates your entire vision and identity and that alone is just so stressful. Honestly, though, the story behind Maalavidaa started as a bit of a joke. I had to come up with a name for my Instagram account, and I wasn’t taking it too seriously at the time—it was just a space to share whatever I felt like creating. The name Malavida came to mind, partly because I was going through a rough patch as I always do and it resonated with my mood back then. The joke derived from the French phrase “mal à la vie,” which translates to “my life hurts” to semi-Spanish “mal a la vida” to “malavida” which means “bad life”, and it felt ironically fitting for the chaos I was experiencing.

Although, Malavida per say was already taken because, well, nothing is ever easy! So, I added extra A’s here and there, and the next thing you know, eight years later it’s a trademarked brand with all these extra A’s and everyone is confused and doesn’t know how to write it but I like it as is. It’s a pretty wholesome story for me.

I believe Maalavidaa aligns perfectly with the emotional vulnerability and introspection I wanted my art to explore. What started as a casual decision turned into a mantra—a reminder that it’s okay to feel lost, to struggle, and to embrace imperfection as part of the human experience.

Now, Maalavidaa is not just a name; it’s a reflection of resilience and transformation, a celebration of turning pain and struggle into something beautiful and meaningful. It’s funny how something that began as a lighthearted moment ended up shaping my identity as an artist.

Alycia, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

Of course! My name is Alycia Rainaud, though most people know me as Maalavidaa. I’m a graphic designer, digital artist, and creator who focuses on exploring the intersections of mental health, color therapy, and emotional self-expression through art. My journey into this world wasn’t linear, but it was deeply personal. I’ve always been fascinated by the ways art can communicate what words often can’t—emotions, struggles, resilience—and how it can offer solace and connection in moments of isolation, not just for myself but for others too.

In 2018 I graduated with a Master’s degree in graphic design, where I delved into the relationship between the human psyche and design objects. That experience fundamentally shaped the way I approach my work today. I started experimenting with digital art as a means of self-reflection and soon found myself captivated by the psychological power of color. Color became my medium for exploring and expressing complex emotions, and I realized how profoundly it resonated with others. That realization led me to focus not just on creating art but also on building a community where people feel seen, inspired, and supported.

Through my work, I create digital and physical art pieces, workshops, online courses, and often collaborate with brands that blend artistic expression with the potential of colorful expression. Whether it’s a digital composition, a wearable piece of art, or an educational resource, my goal is always to empower others to embrace their emotions, understand themselves more deeply, and find beauty in imperfection.

What sets my work apart, I think, is its emotional authenticity. I approach art as a tool for mental health advocacy, and I strive to create pieces that feel intimate and deeply human. I’m proud to say that my work has been described as a safe space—a place where people can process their feelings and find connection in shared vulnerabilities. That’s the greatest compliment I could ever receive. That’s probably one of the things I’m most proud of, seeing how my work has grown beyond myself. It’s humbling to know that something I created from my own struggles has become meaningful to so many others. I’ve heard from people around the world who say my art has helped them feel less alone or has inspired them to explore their own creativity. That’s what drives me every day.

If there’s one thing I’d want potential clients, followers, or fans to know, it’s that my work is an invitation to be curious about yourself. It’s okay to feel messy, to not have all the answers, to explore your emotions without judgment. Art can be a mirror, a therapy, and a friend, and I hope my work serves as all three for anyone who needs it.

Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?

My journey has been anything but straightforward, and resilience has been a constant theme and I’m pretty sure it always will be. Before stepping into the world of art and design, I worked as a hairdresser. At the time, I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my life. I was creative but lacked direction, and there was this heavy feeling of being stuck and lacking passion. It wasn’t until I started my graphic design studies and creating my first art pieces that I decided to pivot entirely and pursue a full-time creative career. That decision was terrifying—it felt like jumping into the unknown without a safety net. It still is terrifying nowadays to be honest.

The journey from there to where I am now was anything but glamorous. It took years for me to find recognition in the digital art space, especially as a female artist. There’s constant pressure to prove your legitimacy in an industry that often undervalues emotional and introspective work, let alone voices from women or marginalized identities. Early on, I faced a lot of indifference, and I can’t even count the number of times I felt like giving up. I wasn’t making money; I wasn’t sure anyone cared about what I was creating, and no one wanted to exhibit my work. It was a slow, uphill battle, building my presence piece by piece, with no guarantees. And the fact is that most of these thoughts and facts are still a thing for me up to this day. There is never a guarantee and the fight is never settled.

And then, I had to couple this while living with depression, generalized anxiety, and OCD. These aren’t just things I manage on the side—they’re woven into every aspect of my life and my work from the very early days. Creating art became both my outlet and my coping mechanism. It allowed me to process emotions I couldn’t articulate and to connect with others who were feeling similarly lost or overwhelmed. But it hasn’t been easy. Some days I wake up and wonder if I’m going to be able to make it through the day, let alone create something meaningful. Most days I don’t, and several times, I do.

The uncertainty of this path is another layer of challenge. As an independent artist, you never really know where your next paycheck is coming from. There are moments of abundance where everything feels aligned, and then there are stretches of drought where you question everything. Not one day has passed in the last eight years where I haven’t asked myself if I should just quit and find a desk job. You know, a “real job”. Balancing that instability with my mental health struggles has required a kind of resilience I didn’t know I had.

I think what’s kept me going is this belief, this gut feeling—maybe even a stubbornness—that what I’m creating matters. Not just to me, but to others. Every time someone tells me my work has helped them feel less alone or more in touch with their emotions, it reminds me why I’m doing this. It’s not just about making a living; it’s about creating a space where vulnerability is celebrated, where people feel safe to feel.

Resilience, for me, isn’t about being strong all the time. It’s about showing up, even when it’s hard, and allowing yourself to evolve through the struggle. That’s the story I try to tell through my art: that it’s okay to be imperfect, to fall apart, and to rebuild yourself as many times as you need to.

We’d love to hear the story of how you built up your social media audience?

Building my audience on social media has been a slow and organic process, rooted in authenticity and consistency over the years. When I started sharing my work on Instagram in 2016, it wasn’t with the intention of “building an audience.” Mind you, things were very different there back in the days. Honestly, I just wanted a space to express myself and share my art without judgment. My posts were raw, personal, and reflective of the mental health struggles I was going through, and I think that vulnerability resonated with people. That’s also a time when hashtags worked to find your community, and that’s worthy of noting.

One of the key moments in growing my audience came when I started leaning into the power of color. I began creating bold, emotionally driven pieces that used color as a way to communicate feelings that words couldn’t. People connected with that deeply, and they started sharing my work. Social media is such a visual platform, so I think the vibrancy and emotionality of my art played a big role in capturing attention. Doing so, I was creating and posting constantly to the point it was almost obsessive. But I slowly went from posting seven days a week to 2-3 times over the years.

I was doing so because I was very intentional about engaging with my audience. Responding to comments/DMs, sharing my thoughts in captions, and creating art that feels like a conversation rather than a monologue have all been important parts of the process. Over time, this created a community—not just followers, but people who genuinely felt seen and connected through the work. Some even became friends. Because that is who I am. I care deeply about others, way too much in fact.

What I’m getting at is, it’s never been easy. Social media can be incredibly demanding, and the pressure to constantly create and stay visible is real, especially nowadays in a society with such a demanding need for content consumption. For someone like me, who struggles with anxiety and perfectionism, that can be overwhelming. I’ve had to learn to set boundaries—to step back when I need to and trust that authenticity will resonate more than posting just for the sake of it.

For anyone just starting out, my biggest piece of advice is to focus on creating from a place of authenticity. People can tell when your work comes from the heart versus when it’s tailored for likes or trends. Also, consistency matters—not in the sense of posting daily, but in showing up in a way that feels true to you. Experiment, find your voice, and let your audience get to know the real you, even the weird parts of you. Just like in any relationship, communication is key.

Don’t be afraid to share your journey, even the messy parts. People crave honesty and connection, and your unique story is what will set you apart. And most importantly, don’t measure your worth—or the worth of your art—by numbers. Growth takes time, and the value of what you’re creating isn’t defined by metrics. Focus on building something meaningful, and the audience will follow.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://maalavidaa.com
• Instagram: https://instagram.com/maalavidaa
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/alyciarainaud/
• Twitter: https://twitter.com/maalavidaaa

Image Credits

Maalavidaa Hero Shot: Credits to Maalavidaa x SHEIN Collection