When initially asked “Who are you?” there’s a moment’s hesitation before the answer comes: “I’m Aliyah. I’m an artist, I’m a musician.” For Aliyah M that couldn’t be more true. Music and art are at the core of her identity. An identity that has shifted and changed throughout the course of her life, leading her eventually to Beit T’Shuvah.
Growing up in Seattle she had a loving family, even if the dynamics were a little off-kilter. A shy, more sensitive child, she grew closer to her mother as opposed to her father and older brother. Music has always been an accessible outlet for her from an early age. “I did love music like always. I had a xylophone from a really young age that I really liked and I would sing a lot and dance a lot.” She even got some of her poetry published at the ripe, young age of ten. This would cause a few eyebrows to raise as it showcased a darker side to her creative spirit.
Around the age of 15, she found music to be an outlet when life served her multiple changes in rapid succession. Her brother left for college, her parents separated, and her mom was diagnosed with cancer. She found herself cutting people out of her life, with the exception of her mother. Around this time she found herself plagued with dreams and nightmares, which she turned to songwriting to help process. She also started playing the guitar more, specifically for her mom, drawing them both closer together. Along the way she started smoking weed, courtesy of her older brother and his friends, with friendships becoming contingent on whether she had weed to smoke. “I would have weed from him and all of my friends, I felt like, just wanted to be around me because I had weed,” she reflects. But soon she found herself taking AP classes, singing in jazz choir, seeking the companionship of more intellectual individuals, and, in the process, coming into herself.
“I felt a lot of pressure growing up because people saw this part that they were simultaneously scared of and admired. Especially the poetry vibes,” she recalls. She found a lot of outside pressure to go out and change the world. Because of this pressure, she went on to college and pursued physics while living in different co-ops. With the help of an Adderall prescription she excelled but at the cost of becoming more angry and not eating. Around this time her best friend and her mom’s best friend both passed away from cancer and she found herself disillusioned with the path she was on.
With nothing tethering her to the goals she had set, Aliyah quit school and moved to Alaska where she traveled, found work on farms, and even had the opportunity to play the mandolin for baby goats when she took them on walks. After almost a year, she returned to life and school and co-ops at UC Davis and began to experiment with mescaline, mushrooms, kratom, salvia, molly, and a handful of other substances. She started to find community and explore her queer identity. She also eventually found herself drinking Robitussin cough syrup, enjoying the way it made music feel more tangible and spiritual. “It felt like it made music feel like, textured…like I could physically feel the texture of the music.” Aliyah would go on to make an album, addressing topics of love, loss, and suicide allowing her to connect with her peers on a deeper level.
Once she finished school, Aliyah moved back to Seattle. She opted to not receive her diploma because they refused to acknowledge her chosen name and she knew that her education would probably not come into play as an artist.
The move back to Seattle found Aliyah living with her mom and stepdad, though this living arrangement was strained. As a result, they kicked her out, voicing that she needed to be more self-sufficient. She began taking hormones around this time to aid in her transition. She stopped drinking Robitussin but, still, she found her life spiraling into a series of unstable living situations. Eventually, she found herself living in her car. She started to pursue relationships with men, with her first date tragically ending in sexual assault. This would go on to affect her many other relationships and cause her to lose her best friend and love (though they would rekindle their relationship).
Aliyah moved to Vashon Island but soon found her eating disorder getting worse and weighing the idea of sex work to support herself. Her best friend was a sex worker and she decided to try it out. This allowed her time to pursue art and only rely on sex work supplimentally.
At the behest of her mom and best friend, Aliyah moved back to Seattle. As she looked for more job opportunities, she would still rely on sex work and this would lead to cocaine use. The sex work, she doesn’t regret…the relationships she made, she does. Because of a romantic involvement, she found herself with almost unlimited access to coke and would use it to fuel her music-making. However, the relationship ultimately dampened her artistry. “Creatively, it was sort of killing me, and that relationship I think creatively was killing me, too.”
Soon her mother would start gently urging her to come to Beit T’Shuvah. At first resistant, Aliyah began to experience a multitude of health problems, though this was not enough to get her to want to stop. As her family’s financial support began to appear more enabling than anything else she found herself reliant on a toxic relationship that she did not want to lean on. She initially made a call just to see what a momentary pause on her life would allow for herself. That pause ended up meaning the world.
Coming to Beit T’Shuvah has given Aliyah the chance to network and reignite her creative ambitions. She has a music internship here and gets to work in the studio. She has a sponsor, who is a full-time music producer, who understands her creative side and is taking her through the steps. Her relationship with her mom has never been better. Aliyah and her mom even participated in this week’s family immersion, where her mom got to jump head-first into the BTS program, attend groups, and have all-day family therapy. Her mom had this to say about the immersion, “It is an opportunity for me to look at myself and my part of the process and see all the hard work she is doing in action.” Her relationships with her step-father and biological father are a bit more difficult but she has faith that there is love on both ends.
When asked about what makes Beit T’Shuvah so special, her answer is succinct if not simple. “I think there’s a lot of things that sort of combine into something that’s hard to describe.” She acknowledges that friendship is a key element here as well as opportunities in both a career sense as well as for personal growth. When asked about her daughter’s stay at BTS, her mom had this to say, “I think there have been some really profound changes that have happened for her. I wouldn’t presume to know what all those are, but I can feel there are some tectonic shifts happening.” She still pursues her creative ambitions. “I don’t have to prove to myself that I deserve to be in the studio to make this awesome shit. I can be in the studio and not make awesome shit and still have the opportunity to do it.” She feels like she now has a chance at life and developing her creative self.
Aliyah’s transition has gone hand in hand with her journey in music. It’s been a journey of finding herself and connecting with others. “Being early in transition and being on drugs and looking like I was on drugs was similar to feeling like I was an alien to the world and to myself.” She’s learned that she has had to ground herself in how she views herself.
When once again asked, “Who are you?” she again kept it simple and to the point. “What I didn’t want to say in the beginning is that I’m a lover. I am. I’m an artist, and a lover, and a connector.” Aliyah, I couldn’t agree more. Music to my ears.