Cynthia Erivo may have an Emmy, Grammy, and Tony to her name — and an Oscar nomination in her back pocket — but for her, those accolades are “markers,” not motivators. Sitting down with Angie Martinez on IRL, the powerhouse singer and actress shares that her true north has always been “showing up fully” in every performance — heart, soul, and all.
“My gift is spiritual,” she says. “It’s not just a skill. It’s a tool I was given to connect with others.” She speaks of her career as a mission, not a performance — a sacred responsibility to reflect truth through storytelling.
While her starring role as Elphaba in the upcoming Wicked adaptation has catapulted her fame to new heights, it’s also stripped away her anonymity. But instead of shrinking, Cynthia’s grounding deeper into who she is.
One visible transformation: her shaved head. Erivo reveals the change began in drama school but fully bloomed during Wicked. She now shaves not just her hair but her eyebrows too — calling it “freeing, vulnerable, and completely honest.” Everyone, she believes, should try it at least once. “You discover your face. Your truth. There’s nothing to hide behind.”
Raised in London, Cynthia was a “chatty” child whose mother noticed her musical instincts at just 18 months. At five, she took her first solo in a nativity play singing “Silent Night.” But by 18, she nearly walked away from performing — until a drama teacher urged her to apply to the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. That pivot changed everything.
Erivo challenges the reductive “strong Black woman” trope, insisting her power lies in vulnerability. “I go deep into my characters. Sometimes, I bring them home with me,” she admits. When portraying Harriet Tubman, she even prayed for the activist’s spirit to guide her — and says she felt that presence, lingering well after filming ended.
Outside the spotlight, Cynthia’s rituals keep her anchored. She journals daily — chronicling her experiences and reminding herself to be grateful. She practices acute mindfulness, constantly “noticing the small things” to stay present. Even her tattoos serve as spiritual and emotional touchpoints. “It’s grounding,” she says of the ink-and-needle ritual. “It makes me feel human.”
Her debut album, I Forgive You, is both intimate and universal — a sonic memoir that touches on heartbreak, passion, self-reflection, and healing. The album closes with a voice message from a young fan named Grace, who later passed away. “Cynthy, I feel you. I love you,” the girl says in the recording. Cynthia obtained permission from Grace’s family to include it as the final words on the project.
“I wanted the last thing listeners hear to be ‘I love you,’” Cynthia shares. “Because those words lead us to the other three we struggle to say: ‘I forgive you.’”
Cynthia believes everyone should experience both the thrill and ache of love. “It teaches you what matters,” she reflects. Real love, to her, isn’t conditional or transactional — it’s a sacred, spacious bond that allows each person to grow.
“When you’re really in love,” she says, “you’re walking each other home.” And if your partner can’t support your evolution — whether it’s dyeing your hair or chasing a dream — then that’s not real love.
Asked to rate her happiness, Cynthia confidently gives herself an 8.5 out of 10, leaving room to grow but acknowledging a deep sense of peace. The only thing that could shake her now? “A deep loss,” she says. “That’s the only thing powerful enough.” Still, she maintains her grounding by staying present and rooted in truth.
Despite playing icons like Aretha Franklin and Harriet Tubman, Cynthia doesn’t chase legacy. “What happens after I’m gone isn’t my business,” she shrugs. Instead, she’s focused on living with purpose now, putting “footprints in the sand” and letting others draw meaning from them.
Even when accepting awards, she writes her speeches at the last minute — allowing something bigger to “drop in.” Her speeches, she notes, are rarely about her. “They’re about what I hope others can take away.”
Cynthia cautions against morphing into what someone else wants. “You can’t pretend forever,” she says. “Eventually, the real you will show up — and if your partner doesn’t recognize her, that’s on them.”
At this stage in her life and career, Cynthia Erivo is done folding. She’s stepping into her full, fearless self — bald head, bold voice, beating heart — and inviting the world to meet her there.
