Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Miyah. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Miyah, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. We’d love to hear about when you first realized that you wanted to pursue a creative path professionally.

I began singing when I was just 2 years old. My great grandmother Lillie and my aunt Gloria were the ones who first introduced me to music by having me sing in church. The very first song I ever sang was “This Little Light of Mine,” and even then, there was something special about it—it felt natural.

Music was always around me growing up. My great grandpa introduced me to blues music—artists like Stevie Wonder, the Gap Band, and Jennifer Hudson. My mom added her own influence, putting me on Beyoncé, Keyshia Cole, Monica, and a lot of 90s and early 2000s music. Singing wasn’t just something I did—it was part of my environment. My family is full of singers, so it always felt like it was in my blood and in my bones.

My aunt Gloria—“Lolo”—played a big role in shaping how I saw myself. She used to remind me, “You can be a star too, you can be on CDs, you can be on the big stage.” Hearing that at such a young age made it feel real, like it wasn’t just a dream but something I could actually step into.

But the biggest influence was my great grandmother. She saw something in me early on, believed in it, and pushed me to keep going. In a way, she was like my own personal Mattie Moss Clark—guiding me, encouraging me, and helping shape my gift.

The exact moment I knew I wanted to pursue this path came when I was a little girl watching the movie Dreamgirls. I saw myself in Effie—her voice, her power, her presence. She wasn’t just singing, she was *feeling*, and she was a star. Watching her made something click in me. It made me realize that what I had wasn’t just something for church or family—it could be something bigger.

That was the moment I felt the superstar in me rise. That was when I knew music wasn’t just something I loved—it was something I was meant to do.

Miyah, 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?

My name is Miyah, and I am 25 years old. My birthday is March 26. I was born in Philadelphia but was raised in the country, which gave me a unique blend of city roots and a grounded upbringing that shows up in who I am and how I create. I am the big sister of five kids and the third oldest grandchild, so leadership, responsibility, and love have always been a big part of my life. I’m also a wife to my amazing husband Dylan, who supports me in everything I do.

At my core, I am a singer and a storyteller. Music has always been a part of my life—I’ve been writing songs since I was a child, and I’ve been involved in music in different ways for years. I played in orchestra starting in the 6th grade, and that influence still shapes my sound today. You’ll hear it in the emotion, the arrangement, and the depth of the music I create now and plan to create in the future.

As I’ve grown, my relationship with music has evolved. What started as something I loved became something I *needed*—a way to express, process, and connect. Now, I use music as a tool for healing and inspiration. My goal is to encourage people to become their best selves and to remind them of the good that still exists.

In a world that often amplifies negativity, I intentionally create music that feels good—music that lifts people up, brings joy, and creates a sense of peace. I like to make “happy music,” but not in a surface-level way—more so in a way that feels genuine, healing, and real. I want people to feel lighter after hearing my music, like they’ve been reminded to smile again.

I love people, and I love loving on people. That’s at the center of everything I do. Whether it’s through my lyrics, my voice, or my presence, I want people to feel seen, valued, and cared for. I wear a smile, and I hope that people can *feel* that smile through my music.

What sets me apart is that my music comes from a real place. It’s rooted in love, in life experience, and in a desire to make a positive impact. I’m not just creating songs—I’m creating moments, feelings, and connections.

What I’m most proud of is staying true to who I am and using my gift with intention. This isn’t just about music for me—it’s about purpose. I want my work to reach people, to help them, and to remind them of their own light.

At the end of the day, I want people to know that when they listen to me, they’re getting something real—something full of heart, hope, and honesty. This is just the beginning, and I’m excited for everything that’s to come.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

One of the biggest lessons I had to unlearn was the idea that I had to be perfect—or at least *appear* perfect—to be accepted, especially when it came to my voice and my music.

Growing up, being surrounded by music and coming from a family full of singers, there was always a high standard. I wanted to get every note right, every run clean, every performance polished. I thought that being “good” meant being flawless. And in church, in school, even just singing around others, I felt that pressure to deliver instead of just *feel*.

As I got older and started writing my own music, that mindset started to hold me back. I would overthink everything—lyrics, melodies, delivery—because I was trying to make it perfect instead of making it real. There were times I second-guessed songs that actually came from a genuine place, just because they didn’t sound “perfect” in my head.

The turning point came when I realized that the moments people connected with the most weren’t the perfect ones—they were the honest ones. The cracks in the voice, the emotion in the delivery, the vulnerability in the lyrics—that’s what made people feel something. That’s what made it *matter*.

I also had to remind myself that God created me different for a reason. If I was like everyone else, how would I get discovered? That shift helped me stop comparing and start embracing what makes my voice, my sound, and my story unique.

So I had to unlearn perfection and relearn authenticity.

Now, I focus on feeling over flawlessness. I let myself be present in the music instead of trying to control it. That shift changed everything—not just in how I create, but in how I connect with people.

At the end of the day, I’ve learned that perfection doesn’t move people—truth does. And once I embraced that, my music started to feel a lot more like *me*.

For you, what’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative?

The most rewarding aspect of being an artist for me is when people feel understood and seen through the message I’m conveying.

There’s something powerful about creating a song from a real place—whether it’s joy, pain, growth, or healing—and then having someone else hear it and say, “That’s exactly how I feel.” Those moments remind me that music goes beyond sound—it becomes connection.

I love knowing that something I created can reach someone in a moment they need it most. Whether it helps them feel less alone, brings them peace, or even just puts a smile on their face, that’s everything to me.

At the end of the day, it’s not just about making music—it’s about making people feel seen, understood, and connected. That’s what makes it all worth it.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://beacons.ai/miamiyah3
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/miyahhh_j?igsh=MWVkbGZtOHFrd2c4eA%3D%3D&utm_source=qr
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/share/1Ccv6Jae6D/?mibextid=wwXIfr
• Youtube: https://youtube.com/channel/UCVC6Z9POlESkXOpDzX8QNOg?si=_e-mEJNWcacwavfk

Image Credits

@Deonjphotography (instagram) Deon Oliver