Today we’d like to introduce you to Monica Nia.
Hi Monica, it’s an honor to have you on the platform. Thanks for taking the time to share your story with us – to start maybe you can share some of your backstory with our readers?
I’ve always said that music wasn’t a decision, it’s my identity. It’s who I am. I grew up in a home where emotional and financial stability didn’t exist. My father struggled with addiction, and the house was often filled with chaos and fighting. From a young age, I leaned into music without even realizing it. My mom would tell me I held notes and danced in rhythm to the Marineland commercial as a baby. I would make up songs in the bedroom, not because I was trying to be good at it, but because it made me feel safe. It helped me process the world around me. Music became my safe space. My invisible friend. My way of expressing what I didn’t yet have the words for.
I was in fifth grade when I decided I wanted to take vocal lessons. I told my mom, she genuinely wanted to support me, but we didn’t have the money at the time. Still, I didn’t let it go. I kept asking. Kept hoping. Kept believing there had to be a way. Eventually, because I was so persistent, we found one. That experience taught me something I carry with me to this day: even if I don’t know how, I’ll always find a way.
In my early teen years, I started singing at school assemblies and performing anywhere I could. Not because I was confident, but because I was scared. I had intense stage fright back then. I knew I wasn’t a strong performer yet, but I wanted to be. So I put myself in front of people on purpose. I’ve had students laugh at me. I’ve even had a teacher speak negatively about one of my performances to multiple classes, and word got back to me. But still, I kept going. I kept showing up, because something in me knew: I wasn’t good yet, but I would be. I wanted to be great. I was willing to do the uncomfortable things to get there.
One of the most defining moments from that time was entering a music competition across the Toronto District School Board, judged by Mark Spicoluk of Universal Music. Before I even performed, I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t leave without getting his contact. After the competition ended, while my friends were packing up and calling me to leave with them, something inside me said no, stay.
I walked to the other side of the venue and found his dressing room. I knocked. Then knocked again. Security looked at me like, What are you doing? But I stood my ground. When they finally asked what I wanted, I said, “I was in the competition, and I’d love to speak to Mark.” They stepped inside, and a moment later, he came out.
I told him how much I loved music. How much I respected what he’d done in the industry, and how hungry I was to grow. I asked if there was any way we could stay in touch. He gave me his email. He even followed me on Instagram at the time. That moment showed me what’s possible when you move from your heart, even when it’s pounding. It reminded me that when you want something deeply enough, the courage will show up.
Not long after the competition, I remember wanting to impress Mark. I had told him I’d send over some of my music, but I didn’t have anything professionally recorded. I didn’t know how this industry worked yet, I just knew I needed something to show him. My mom used her savings to pay for my studio session and we recorded my first official song The Breakup.
The Breakup caught the attention of Roy Hamilton III who’s worked with legends like Michael Jackson, Britney Spears, and many more. He flew to Canada to meet me, and began mentoring me. I was 19.
For the next few years, I balanced my job and late-night studio sessions, riding the bus across the city. Roy gave me the freedom to write and create.
In 2022 I won second place in the International Songwriting Competition for the Adult Contemporary category. That competition received over 15,000 submissions from over 150 countries.
Not long after, I manifested exactly the kind of relationship I wanted with a manager. Someone who believed in me fully. I wrote it down, visualized it, and then was connected with Andrew Lane, a Grammy-nominated producer based in Los Angeles. Andrew flew to Canada, then not too long after became my manager, my chosen family, and my creative partner. He’s like my music dad, someone I can share all of my soul with through lyrics. He continues to mentor my writing, challenges me to create without fear and overthinking. Knowing that great songs are often born from the willingness to make something imperfect.
Together, we’ve opened doors in LA that I used to only imagine. I’m now in rooms with artists and creators I used to admire from afar, and we’re building something real. Our current projects include collaborations with Kthrash (Kevin Gruft), known for working with Machine Gun Kelly, Travis Barker, and Gwen Stefani; Hana Giraldo; and Finley, who appeared in Camp Rock 2.
Through it all, I’ve held tightly to my vision, even when the path wasn’t clear. There were seasons where I had to stretch every dollar, but I stayed focused. I kept believing in something invisible. Something deeply rooted in me. I’ve worked hundred-hour weeks, serving tables and saving intentionally, choosing to invest in my dream over instant comfort. I’ve missed out on birthdays and dinners, paused chapters of my personal life, not from struggle, but from deep purpose. This journey has asked everything of me, and I’ve given it willingly. Because I know what I’m building. I know what I carry. And I know I’m just getting started.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
From a young age, I was told by many high-level industry executives that I wasn’t good enough. That I had to lose weight. That I didn’t have it. I got rejected countless times. I was told I wasn’t a good songwriter from someone I was working closely with in the past and that one really got to me. I stopped writing for two years because of it. But eventually, I found my voice again.
I’ve traveled alone at a young age, supported myself entirely in this career, and worked 100-hour weeks while missing out on birthdays, holidays, and experiences. I’ve poured everything into this dream for what feels like majority of my life.
There have been times I cried alone in my room, pleading to God because I didn’t know how I was going to keep going. I’ve walked with blind faith, cutting back on groceries just to make sure I had enough to invest in my music. I’ve had to build a strong spiritual foundation just to stay grounded. That faith, that vision planted in me, is what kept me going in this.
No, it hasn’t been smooth. But it’s been the best road I could’ve taken.
Because it made me wise. It made me resilient. And it made me hungry for purpose. It made me who I am. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
I’m a singer-songwriter. While I’ve always loved pop-punk, my time in the studio with my manager has opened up a whole new creative side of me. I just love creating. I don’t want to box myself into one genre, music is music, and what touches the soul, touches the soul. I love writing intricate lyrics that are poetic and imaginative, but also honest, the kind of lyrics that give voice to the things we sometimes struggle to say out loud.
I create music that feels emotionally rich but also fun. The kind of songs you can cry to, dance to, escape into, and return home to. I specialize in singing and songwriting, but above all, I specialize in feeling.
What I’m most proud of is this chapter of my life right now. All the behind-the-scenes work, the sacrifices, the nights no one saw me grinding… it’s all led to this moment. As a kid, I always dreamed of working in LA — of being in Hollywood, even when I didn’t know why. And now, I’m working with people I deeply respect.
Working with Kevin “KThrash” Gruft has been a dream come true for me. I’m also collaborating on songs with Matthew Finley (from Camp Rock 2) and Hana Giraldo, and there are more collaborations in progress that I’m incredibly excited about. I’m proud of the music we’re making, the creative partnerships that are forming, and the energy that’s being poured into everything we do. I’m so excited for this next chapter of my life — and I can’t wait to see what comes out of it.
We’d love to hear about how you think about risk taking?
I’ve taken a lot of risks in this journey, and one of the biggest has been choosing to invest everything I have into my music, even when I didn’t know what would come of it. I didn’t go to college. I didn’t pursue a backup plan. Every dollar I’ve earned from serving and bartending to be able to bring this dream to life. A lot of times working 100-hour weeks, has gone straight into building this dream.
I invested $70,000 of my hard-earned money into a major project with a team when I was 25 years old. That experience taught me everything, from how to navigate the industry to how to trust my creative instincts. While it didn’t unfold the way I expected, it gave me the foundation and clarity I needed to grow.
I’ve traveled alone, collaborated with people across the industry, and kept going when nothing was guaranteed. I’ve sacrificed birthdays, vacations, comfort, and a “normal” life — because I believe in what I’m building. That’s the risk. To go all in. No fallback. Just heart, faith, and relentless work.
I personally think risk is a requirement in this field. You have to be willing to continuously put yourself out there, even when you’re unsure of the outcome. In the creative world, failure often walks right alongside progress, and you have to keep showing up anyway.
Playing it safe will get you safe results. But taking risks? That’s where the biggest blessings of your life are waiting.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/monicaniamusic/
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MonicaNiaMusic
Image Credits
Shots by Don Julio took the first picture I submitted in Hollywood
Andrew Lane
Matthew Finley
Mark Spicoluk
Roy Hamilton III
Kevin Gruft (Goes by Kthrash)
