What is the best thing that I love about my work?
I have always been amazed at how transformation can still feel new each time. Till today, I do not know what the outcome will be until I have the finished product in my hand. For me, taking something internal has always been deeply personal, because it is made up of so many fragments, memories, feelings, and emotional traces that quietly hold sway over me in ways I don’t always fully understand. Turning that into something audible is quite breathtaking, but it also frightens me because it means I have to sit with things that are often unformed, fragile, and sometimes uncomfortable before they take shape. And I worry, because it gives me so much power and power can both reveal and distort, depending on how it is handled. And yet I still do it. Then I move from the abstract into something I can hear, something I can touch in sound, and that is where the magic lies. In that shift…from what is felt but undefined, to what is expressed and shared, something inside me becomes clearer too.
What is my idea of happiness?
Happiness, to me, is being able to be fully myself. It is seeing my family happy and content, and feeling that I am able to do the things I know I am capable of my work, my pursuits, whether in art, music, or anything that allows me to express what is inside I like feeling safe, but I also understand that safety alone does not always allow growth. So, even at the risk of stepping beyond it, I would choose to explore, to expand, and to keep moving into spaces that challenge me. And still, I would hope to remain grounded in a place that feels true, where I am not losing myself in the process, but becoming more of who I already am.
What is my greatest fear?
Creative erosion. But perhaps even more than that, it is the feeling of having to explain how dark my lyrics can be. They are dark because they come from experience, lived, observed, absorbed. Would I call it fear? I’m not sure. It feels more like a space I return to, one I have visited often and sometimes dwelt in. I usually make it a point to look at the brighter side of life, yet I am, in many ways, a living contradiction. Happiness and darker states coexist within me; they always have. I think that is true for everyone, but the difference lies in the depth and threshold of where each person stands. And maybe that is what unsettles me most…not the darkness itself, but the need to define it, justify it, or contain it within language that never quite fits. And sometimes, there is also a quiet sense that I am running out of time, not in a literal way, but in the urgency to fully express what I carry before it shifts again.
What is the trait I most deplore in myself?
I am very hard on myself. If it is not my all, it rarely feels like enough…but giving one’s all is a demanding standard, and sometimes the balance of replenishing comes too late. When I am running on empty, nothing really holds. I strive to be the best version of myself, but that remains elusive. It can feel like trying to catch wisps of smoke, always shifting, never fully graspable. And with that pursuit comes a tendency toward perfectionism, which I know is ultimately impossible, yet still something I wrestle with.
Which living persons in my profession do I most admire?
I admire many, though it keeps shifting. I am drawn to voices that carry a generation, artists whose presence and work shape culture in ways that are impossible to ignore. Not to imitate them, but to witness how their work and their stories continue to inspire those who come after. I may not be a child of the 60s, but I am deeply in awe of how that era reshaped music and artistic expression, and how its influence still lingers today. I am also someone who roots for the underdog, the artist who toils quietly, who works hard, and who perseveres even when recognition is not immediate. I admire those who continue to hold on to their dreams, and who keep showing up for their craft, again and again, regardless of the outcome.
What is the thing that I dislike the most in my work?
This question can swing both ways, the internal and the external. On the internal side, I really dislike listening back to my own voice. Instead of simply hearing it, I tend to dissect it. I ask myself why I sang certain notes, why I chose that tone, that phrasing, that emotion. Because I am often given carte blanche in the studio, even when interpreting songs I did not write, I work in a very instinctive, impromptu way. Afterwards, I find myself breaking those moments apart, as if I am trying to reverse-engineer something that was meant to be felt rather than analysed.
On the external side, I struggle with the many roles independent artists are expected to carry. While they bring freedom and control, they can also stretch you thin and slowly wear down the creative core. Administrative demands, industry noise, contracts, politics, and gatekeeping, anything that pulls focus away from pure creation, can dilute the artistic flow and interrupt the space where the work actually begins.
When and where was I the happiest in my work?
On stage. I am a performer. I love expressing myself live, where nothing is planned, nothing is scripted, and there is no artifice. After performing so many shows throughout my music career, I know where I belong. Where happiness can sometimes feel fleeting, this feels like a state of being. It is elemental. It is at the very core of who I am. The stage is my first love.
If I could, what would I change about myself?
Nothing, because after all the work I have put into myself, starting over would feel like undoing something carefully built over time. I am a work in progress, but at least there has been progress. Changing anything now would only disrupt the architecture, and the soul that resides within it.
What is my greatest achievement in work?
Aside from the body of work I have created throughout my musical career, I think my greatest achievement is finding myself through it. It may have come a little later in terms of clarity, but it definitely started long before I ventured into music as both a career and a creative channel. In a way, I was already in the process of becoming, and music simply became the space where it started to take shape and make sense. There is something both sweet and bittersweet about that timing, because I am aware of the cost it took to arrive here. But it also means I value it more deeply. I would cherish it more, precisely because I understand what it took to get here. And in the end, it has given me a stronger sense of who I am, not just as an artist, but as a person, and what I want to continue building from here.
Where would I most like to live?
Somewhere quiet with a lake nearby, a small town atmosphere, scenic views, and a large art studio. A place for long walks, space for reflection, and perhaps a few cats. Somewhere where nature and creative community coexist, offering peace, tranquility and cultural depth.
What is my most treasured possession?
I would choose my voice, my singing voice, because it has been instrumental in me finding my own voice as a person. And there is a certain irony in that, because I never originally wanted to make music my life. But through my voice, I ended up discovering my own voice in everything else too. In finding that sense of voice, I found myself, my art, my writing, and something deeper I can only call my soul.
What is my most marked characteristic?
My most marked characteristic is intensity and sensitivity, which is strange at times, like night and day existing within one vessel.
What is my most inspirational location in my city?
Everywhere. Inspiration is not confined to place but exists as a state of mind.
What is my favourite place to eat and drink in my city?
I cook most of the time, but I love a simple, quiet restaurant and a good hot cup of cocoa. It does not need to be anything elaborate.
What books influenced my life and how?
The Diary of Anne Frank, the many Holocaust-related books I encountered during school, I, Phoolan Devi: The Autobiography of India’s Bandit Queen, and Night by Elie Wiesel, among many others I would be too long to list. I am drawn to light after darkness. These works shaped how I understand survival, voice, and human endurance. They showed me how extreme circumstances can strip life down to its core, but still leave something human intact, identity, memory, and something unbreakable within it. They made me more aware emotionally, more sensitive to injustice, grief, and resilience. More than anything, they stayed with me and still shape how I process our fractured world.
You Only Die Once. What music would I listen to on my last day?
Songs that carry memory, especially those tied to childhood and emotion. Even the sad ones, because they shaped who I became. From fracture came rebirth, and it feels natural to return to where it all began.
Who is my hero or heroine in fiction?
Those who survive the storm. I am such a sucker for a good love story, but I also really enjoy horror. Strange as those two genres may seem together, what ties them both for me is emotional intensity, vulnerability, and what people reveal about themselves when pushed to their limits.
Who are my heroes and heroines in real life?
I have none, because heroes eventually reveal themselves to have feet of clay. I think we are all far more human than the titles we give each other. What I do admire are good people, friends, and those who try to make the best of what they are given. I would like to think of them as heroes in their own way, but I also know they struggle, dream, fail, hope, and sometimes leave this world carrying regrets. That, to me, is what makes them human, and perhaps more meaningful than the idea of perfection.
Which movie would I recommend to see once in a lifetime?
There are too many to name, but the classics, especially those that remain timeless
in Technicolor, all hold something essential.
What role do stories play in my life and work?
Stories are everywhere in my life. We are all walking, living, breathing storybooks in a vast library that is the universe. It sounds dramatic, but at the root of it, I think it is true. We are memory, emotion, connection, and we are also the source of all of it. We carry stories through our time here, sometimes knowingly, sometimes without even realising it. My art, my music, and now my writing are all stories woven from emotion, from connection, and from the confessions that shape who I am and how I see the world.
What do the words “You are the storyteller of your own life” mean to me?
This question makes me think of myself as a kind of weaver of stories, not one who travels from place to place, but one who travels through experience. I am not just living what happens to me, I am shaping what it becomes. Like an explorer of new worlds, I am always going to travel, discover, and carve out my stories in the sands of time. How much it leaves an imprint depends on many things, timing, connection, and how it is received. For me, music is where that becomes visible, a kind of timeless stamp on an ever- evolving world. One day, I hope someone remembers me as the girl who wrote her own story on her own terms, and left an imprint on those who cared to listen and remember. The challenge, or perhaps the intention, is to leave something behind that still speaks when I am no longer in the room.
Who is my greatest fan, sponsor, partner in crime?
Hah! Denise Dimin, the Los Angeles songwriter who has collaborated with me on three albums and a couple of singles. I would definitely say her over the past few years!!! I think of it less as roles and more as a shared journey. There are people who come in close and actively shape what you are doing in the moment, and others who have been part of the path from the beginning, even if the dynamic changes over time. Denise has been very present in the creative space with me in recent years, someone I can build and create with directly. Zack, my partner in life who has been with me since the journey began, is still there too, but in a quieter way now. Not as involved in the day-to-day shaping of things, but still part of the same long line of where everything started and continues to move from.
Which people or companies would I like to work with?
Companies that value what I bring to the table!
What project am I looking forward to work on?
I have a few things in the pipeline. I tend not to pin anything down too tightly, because staying fluid has helped me handle setbacks when they come. It also keeps space for things to shift, grow, or change direction naturally. I try to trust timing. Everything unfolds when it is ready to, and what will be, will be.
Where can you see me or my work?
On digital platforms, releases, collaborations, live performances, and ongoing creative projects shared through music and storytelling.
Which creative professionals should Peter invite to tell their story?
Mark Allen Lanoue (The Gemini Mind) or Annemarie Picerno
What do the words “Passion Never Retires” mean to me?
Infinity. Art, expression, creative force, it doesn’t end. It doesn’t clock out or fade just because time moves on. For me, passion is the beginning of everything I do, and it stays with me till the end. It is the thing that starts the story before there are even words for it. And even when it changes shape, it doesn’t leave, partly because I do not let go! It just keeps moving, evolving, finding new ways to come through, and I let it, because without it, I think I would not survive this world we live in!
How can you contact me?
On all digital platforms or at https://www.lyiameta.com
You are the storyteller of your own life and you can create your own legend – or not!
What Story Are You Living Now?
Not the official version. The one underneath — the chapter you are actually in, the work you were made to do, the question you have been carrying without quite naming it.
That is exactly where Story Coaching with Peter de Kuster begins.
What Story Coaching is
Story Coaching is a ninety-minute conversation between you and Peter de Kuster — the founder of The Heroine’s Journey and The Hero’s Journey, who has spent twenty years publishing and studying the stories of 5,000 creative professionals from around the world.
In those ninety minutes, Peter uses the architecture of the Heroine’s Journey to map where you are in your own story right now. Which stage of the journey you are actually in. Which archetype is driving your decisions — and which one is costing you. What the dramatic situation at the heart of your current chapter is, and what it requires of you next.
It is not therapy. It is not conventional life coaching. It is something more specific: a conversation with someone who has read enough human stories to recognise the patterns in yours — and to name them clearly enough that you can finally see them too.
What you leave with
Most people sense that something in their story needs to shift — a direction, a role, a relationship with their work — without being able to name precisely what. The ninety minutes with Peter gives you that name.
You leave with three things: a clear understanding of which stage of the Heroine’s Journey you are in right now, a map of the specific challenge your current chapter is asking you to face, and the first concrete steps of the next chapter — written in your own words, in your own voice, before the session ends.
Who it is for
Story Coaching is for anyone who has read a story on this site and recognised something. Anyone at a crossroads — considering a change, navigating a transition, wondering why a chapter that should feel finished does not yet feel finished. Anyone who has a sense that their work and their life are not yet fully aligned, and wants to understand why.
If this story moved you, that movement is information. It is pointing at something in your own story that is ready to be seen.
€ 297 · Ninety minutes · Online