Jackson: Most of us dream of fame. But what if the person who has it all—the Grammys, the sold-out tours, the global adoration—feels like they're in a cage? And what if the only way out is a complete prison break from their own life? Olivia: That’s such a powerful way to frame it, Jackson, because it gets to the absolute heart of the book we’re diving into today: More Myself: A Journey by Alicia Keys. And this isn't just a typical celebrity memoir. It was the very first autobiography published on Oprah Winfrey's influential book imprint, and it's written in this unique 'narrative documentary' style. It weaves in voices from people like her husband Swizz Beatz and her mother, giving it this incredible 360-degree feel. Jackson: An Oprah co-sign is a serious stamp of approval. It signals this is more than just a collection of anecdotes. Olivia: Exactly. The core of our podcast today is really an exploration of the journey from being a product of your environment to becoming the architect of your own identity, and how that personal liberation can fuel a larger purpose. Jackson: Okay, so this idea of a 'cage' is powerful. Where did that start? I always saw her as so confident and in control from day one, even as a young artist. Olivia: That’s the illusion, isn't it? The book shows that the confidence was actually armor. And that armor was forged in some really intense, and frankly, unsettling moments from a very young age. It was a survival mechanism.

Jackson: A survival mechanism against what? She grew up in New York, which is tough, but she was a musical prodigy. It sounds like she was destined for success. Olivia: Destiny doesn't protect you from the world. The book opens with these three pivotal stories that show you exactly why she needed that armor. The first one happens when she's only seven years old. She's in a taxi with her mom in Manhattan, on a street known for peep shows and massage parlors. It’s freezing cold, and she sees three sex workers on a corner, dressed in very little clothing. Jackson: Whoa, at seven? That’s a lot to process. Olivia: Right. And she asks her mom, "Why are they dressed like that? Aren't they cold?" And her mom, trying to explain a complex reality to a child, says, "When people go through hard times, Ali, they often have to do things they don’t want to do. Those women are just trying to survive." Jackson: That’s a heavy lesson for a seven-year-old. Olivia: It was formative. In that moment, Alicia makes a silent vow to herself: she will never be in a situation where she is that vulnerable, that powerless. She decides she has to be in control, always. That’s the first piece of the armor. Jackson: Okay, I can see how that would stick with you. What was the next piece? Olivia: Fast forward four years. She's eleven. She's already aspiring to be a singer and takes on some modeling jobs. One of them is for a department store catalog, modeling bras and underwear for girls. Her mom is there, everything seems fine and professional. But when the catalog comes out, and she knows her friends at school will see it, she feels this wave of shame and exposure. Jackson: Even though it was innocent? Olivia: Totally innocent. But it was the first time she felt objectified. It was the realization that a private moment, or what felt like one, could become public and be judged. It reinforced that need to protect herself, to control her own image. Jackson: So the armor is getting thicker. She’s learning to guard herself. Olivia: Exactly. And then comes the final, most brutal lesson. She's nineteen, on the cusp of releasing her first album. She gets her first major magazine cover shoot. This is a huge deal. But during the shoot, the photographer convinces her manager and the rest of her team to leave the set, so it's just the two of them. Jackson: Hold on, her whole team just left her alone with the photographer? That's insane. That sounds like a setup. Olivia: That's how she describes it. He starts pressuring her, telling her to open her shirt, to pull down her jeans a little. She’s conflicted, uncomfortable, but she’s young and wants to be professional, so she complies. The photo that ends up on the cover is far more revealing than she ever intended. She felt completely manipulated and violated. Jackson: I can’t even imagine. That’s a huge betrayal of trust by everyone involved. Olivia: It was a massive turning point. She writes about crying when she saw it, feeling ashamed. And that’s when she makes another vow, a much stronger one this time. She quotes it in the book: "I swear that I’ll never again let someone rob me of my power. It’s a promise I still work to keep." Jackson: So basically, from childhood, she learned that to be safe, she had to be tough, guarded, and in absolute control of her image. The armor wasn't a choice; it was a necessity. Olivia: Precisely. It was forged in the fire of these experiences. The strong, in-control Alicia Keys the world saw wasn't a persona for show; it was a fortress she built to protect the vulnerable girl inside.

Jackson: That makes so much more sense. But a fortress is also a prison. You can't live in there forever. Olivia: You can't. And that armor is heavy. In 2006, after years of non-stop work, touring, and constantly pretending everything was perfect, the armor finally cracked. This is the moment that opens the book, in a chapter called "Unmasked." Jackson: What happened? Olivia: She’s in a small, gray dressing room in New York before yet another photo shoot. She's running on no sleep, completely exhausted. She describes this feeling of no longer belonging to herself, of being "captive to every request, every demand." She’d been delivering her "grandest performance yet: convincing the world that, behind my smile, all was as perfect as it appeared." Jackson: The classic celebrity burnout story. But it sounds like it was more than just being tired. Olivia: It was a complete unraveling. Her best friend and manager, Erika, is in the room, and Alicia just breaks down. She confesses everything. She says, and this is a direct quote, "That I’m beyond burned out. That I’ve never felt more alone or disconnected from myself. That after years of running... my body and spirit have come unhinged—disassembled, scattered, lost." Jackson: Wow. "Disassembled." That’s a powerful word. It’s not just tired; it’s like she’s fallen apart. Olivia: And in that moment of total collapse, Erika says something simple but profound. She suggests she take a break. Maybe a trip. And Alicia has this overwhelming, almost bizarre urge to go to Egypt. Alone. Jackson: What does a 'prison break' from your own life even look like for a global superstar? You can't just disappear. Olivia: That’s the fascinating part. She literally plans an escape. She tells her team she needs time. She runs a marathon in Athens first, as a metaphor for overcoming her life's struggles, and then she flies to Cairo. She spends three weeks mostly in solitude, cruising the Nile, visiting ancient temples, and climbing the Great Pyramid of Giza. Jackson: This is where some critics of the book said they wanted more. They praised the honesty of her early years, but some felt that in recounting her adult life, the emotional depth sometimes felt a bit summarized. Did she really unpack the feeling of that breakdown and trip, or was it more of a report on what happened? Olivia: That’s a fair critique, and the book does move quickly through some heavy emotional periods. But I think the way she frames it, the act of the trip itself was the therapy. It wasn't about sitting and processing in a traditional sense. It was about creating physical and mental space. She describes the stillness of the Nile at sunrise, the feeling of connection to something ancient and powerful at the Karnak temples. It was about reconnecting with herself, away from the noise and demands. It was a physical manifestation of reclaiming her own life. Jackson: So the journey itself was the healing. It wasn't about finding answers, but about finding silence. Olivia: Exactly. It was about taking off the armor in a place where no one was watching. She needed to remember who she was when she wasn't being "Alicia Keys." And that prison break, that trip to Egypt, becomes the foundation for everything that comes next. It’s the moment she starts becoming "more myself."

Jackson: So she goes to Egypt, finds herself... then what? Does she just come back and do the same thing, but with better boundaries? Or does something fundamentally change? Olivia: Something fundamentally changes. The journey inward leads to a powerful outward expression. Finding "more myself" wasn't the end of the journey; it was the beginning of a new mission. She comes back with this newfound clarity and starts to dismantle the public-facing persona she’d so carefully constructed. Jackson: How do we see that in practice? Olivia: Two huge examples stand out in the book. The first is the #NoMakeup movement. This started from a very personal place. She was doing a photo shoot for a new single and the photographer, Paola Kudacki, wanted to capture her right after she’d come from the gym, raw and fresh-faced. Alicia was hesitant, conditioned by years of needing to look perfect. But she did it. Jackson: And the pictures were... good? Olivia: They were stunning because they were real. And seeing them, Alicia had this epiphany. She wrote an essay called "Time to Uncover" and declared, "I don’t want to cover up anymore. Not my face, not my mind, not my soul, not my dreams, not my struggles, not my emotional growth. Nothing." Jackson: So it's like she stopped performing perfection and started performing her truth instead. The #NoMakeup thing wasn't just about makeup; it was about dropping the entire facade. Olivia: Precisely! It became a global movement. It was this radical act of self-acceptance that resonated with millions of people who felt the same pressure. She turned her personal liberation into a public invitation for others to do the same. Jackson: That’s a powerful shift. What was the second example? Olivia: It’s even more profound, and it brings the story full circle. Years later, she takes her entire blended family—her husband Swizz Beatz, their kids, her mom—back to Egypt. But she re-frames it. She calls it by its ancient name, Kemet. Jackson: Why the name change? Olivia: Because this trip wasn't about her own escape anymore. It was about education and empowerment for her children. She was frustrated with how Black history is so often taught starting with enslavement. She wanted her sons to know their story begins with kings and queens, with brilliance and innovation. She hired kemetologists, experts in ancient Egyptian culture, to guide them. Jackson: So she's reclaiming the narrative. Not just for herself, but for the next generation. Olivia: Yes! There's this incredible moment where her son, Egypt, is looking at a cartouche, an ancient Egyptian nameplate. He asks for one to be made for him, and he says, "I want one side to say 'Egypt,' and the other side to say 'Kemet.'" He instinctively connected his own name to this powerful, ancient heritage. Jackson: That must have been an incredible moment for her as a mother. Olivia: It was everything. She writes, "We dream bigger when we know that brilliance is our birthright and royalty is in our DNA." It’s the ultimate expression of being "more myself." She’s no longer just the girl from Hell's Kitchen building armor to survive. She’s a descendant of queens, standing in her full power, and teaching her children to do the same.

Jackson: It’s such a clear and powerful arc. The whole journey is about dismantling walls. First, the personal walls she built for protection. Then, the public walls of perfection demanded by fame. And finally, the historical walls that limit our understanding of who we are. Olivia: That’s a beautiful way to put it. It's a journey from constriction to expansion. She had to break free from her own prison to realize her true power, and once she did, she started using that power to help break down the cages that confine others—whether it's societal beauty standards or incomplete historical narratives. Jackson: The book is called More Myself, but it seems the ultimate lesson is that becoming "more myself" allows you to become more for others. Her activism, her music, her parenting—it all became more potent after she did that internal work. Olivia: Absolutely. The personal awakening fueled a global impact. She had to find her own voice before she could use it to speak for so many others. It’s a testament to the idea that the most profound change we can make in the world often starts with the quiet, courageous work of looking inward. Jackson: It makes you wonder, what armor are we all wearing? And what would our own 'prison break' look like? Olivia: A question worth asking. It might not be a trip to Egypt, but maybe it's just one small, authentic decision to stop covering up. Jackson: A powerful thought to end on. Olivia: This is Aibrary, signing off.