We were lucky to catch up with Margherita Lega recently and have shared our conversation below.

Alright, Margherita thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. We’d love to hear the backstory behind a risk you’ve taken – whether big or small, walk us through what it was like and how it ultimately turned out.

Leaving my hometown of Milan, Italy to pursue a career in the performing arts in New York City was the biggest risk I have taken so far, and also the most defining one.

Before making that decision, my life looked very different. I had earned a degree in Economics and Management and followed a well-structured, “safe” path that made sense on paper. I had stability, proximity to my family, and a clear trajectory ahead of me. But underneath that security, I felt a growing disconnect from myself. Performing had always been my passion, and the longer I ignored it, the clearer it became that I would regret not giving it a real chance.

So I chose uncertainty over comfort. I moved to New York City alone, leaving behind my family, my support system, and everything familiar, to fully commit to this path. I enrolled in a two-year conservatory program at the American Musical and Dramatic Academy, a demanding experience that required total focus: physically, emotionally, and mentally.

That period challenged me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. I was forced to confront my insecurities, my fears of not being “enough,” and the loneliness that comes with starting over in a new country and a highly competitive industry. There were moments of doubt and exhaustion, but also moments of clarity, times when I felt deeply aligned with who I was becoming.

The risk didn’t lead to instant certainty or ease, but it led to growth, resilience, and a strong sense of purpose. It confirmed that this is not something I’m casually interested in, but something I’m willing to work for, sacrifice for, and build patiently over time. Moving to New York didn’t just change my career path, it reshaped my relationship with risk itself. I learned that meaningful progress often requires stepping away from what feels safe in order to move closer to what feels true.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

I’m a Milan-born, New York–based performing artist working across acting, singing, and songwriting. Performing has been a constant in my life long before I moved to the U.S., I was already working professionally in theatre, live performance, and music in Italy, even while pursuing a degree in Economics and Management.

In Italy, I performed leading roles in large-scale musical theatre productions, including starring as Lucia in Gli Sposi Promessi Show, directed by Maurizio Colombi and performed across multiple cities, and originating the role of Donna in Give Me Another ABBA Story! in Milan. I also performed as a featured vocalist in national and international concert events, including live performances with acclaimed Italian recording artists such as Paola Turci, for audiences of over 10,000 people. Those early professional experiences grounded me in discipline, stamina, and a deep respect for live storytelling.

The decision to move to New York City marked a shift from balancing performance alongside a traditional path to fully committing to my craft. I relocated on my own and completed a two-year conservatory program at American Musical and Dramatic Academy, where I trained intensively in acting, voice, dance, and musical theatre.

Since then, my work in the U.S. has spanned theatre, film, cabaret, and original music. I’ve performed lead roles in new plays selected for major New York theatre festivals, including Aries in Wolf’s Clothing at the New York Winter Theatre Festival and multiple new works staged at The Producer’s Club Theatres. I’ve also appeared as a featured soloist at The Green Room 42, one of New York City’s leading cabaret venues, performing repertoire in both English and Italian. Alongside theatre, I’ve worked in short films, digital series, music videos, and branded visual content.

What I bring to collaborators and clients is emotional clarity and depth of character work. I’m particularly skilled at building emotionally precise, grounded performances that feel truthful rather than performative. My multicultural background, growing up in Italy, training and working in the U.S., and speaking multiple languages fluently, allows me to approach characters with cultural awareness, nuance, and psychological curiosity. I often draw from different cultural frameworks to deepen my understanding of relationships, subtext, and emotional behavior.

What sets me apart is the combination of sensitivity and rigor. I approach creativity as a craft that requires discipline, preparation, and responsibility. I’m most proud of having built a career that bridges countries, languages, and artistic mediums, and of consistently choosing work that challenges me to grow rather than stay comfortable.

The main thing I want people to know about my work is that it’s rooted in connection. Whether I’m portraying a character onstage or screen, or sharing original music, my goal is always the same: to create work that feels honest, emotionally resonant, and deeply human.

Is there mission driving your creative journey?

At the core of my creative journey is a very simple belief: when art is done honestly, it connects people and makes them feel less alone.

We live in a society that moves fast and rewards constant productivity, always doing, always achieving, always staying on top of things. In that environment, there’s very little space left to slow down, to listen inward, or to truly feel and process emotions. I believe art creates that space. It allows people to pause, reflect, and reconnect with parts of themselves that often get overlooked or silenced.

For people who are struggling, whether with grief, confusion, loneliness, or unprocessed emotions, art can offer perspective, release, and comfort. Watching a powerful film, seeing a moving performance, or listening to a song that resonates can momentarily transport you into another reality. And when your own reality feels heavy or overwhelming, that experience can be deeply healing. It reminds you that what you’re feeling is human, shared, and survivable.

Emotionally, I’m trying to reach anyone who needs that kind of connection, people who feel alone, unheard, or unsure of how to express what they’re experiencing. I’m especially drawn to work that helps people access their emotions more honestly, even when they don’t yet have the language for them.

In the long term, I want my name to be associated with projects that bring comfort and curiosity. Work that people return to in moments when they need warmth, reflection, or a sense of grounding. I hope to be part of stories that invite audiences to broaden their perspectives, to become curious about lives, cultures, and experiences different from their own, and to recognize the shared humanity within them.

What I refuse to compromise on as an artist is integrity. I’m intentional about the projects I take on and the stories I help tell. I don’t see art as something neutral or disposable, it carries weight. For me, it’s important to believe in the vision behind the work and to contribute to projects that align with my values and my understanding of why storytelling matters in the first place.

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

One of the moments that best illustrates my resilience was during my early time in New York, while I was completing an intensive conservatory program and simultaneously adjusting to life in a new country.

Moving away from Italy meant leaving behind my family, my language, and the environment where I had already built professional experience. In New York, everything felt amplified—the pace, the competition, the expectations. The training itself was demanding and immersive, requiring constant vulnerability, self-examination, and discipline. At the same time, I was learning how to navigate loneliness, financial uncertainty, and the emotional weight of starting over without a safety net.

There were moments when doubt surfaced, not about my love for the craft, but about whether I was strong enough to sustain the path I had chosen. What kept me grounded was the decision to keep showing up anyway. I learned how to sit with discomfort rather than run from it, how to turn insecurity into curiosity, and how to use emotional challenges as material for growth rather than obstacles.

Resilience, for me, wasn’t about pushing through blindly. It was about adapting, learning when to slow down, when to ask for support, and when to trust that progress doesn’t always look linear. Over time, that period reshaped not only my work ethic, but my relationship with myself as an artist.

Looking back, that phase taught me that resilience isn’t just endurance, it’s commitment. Commitment to the work, to self-honesty, and to continuing even when the outcome isn’t guaranteed. That mindset continues to guide me as I build a career in a field that requires both sensitivity and strength.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @meghi_lega

Image Credits

Ollie Pierce
Amelie Trimpl