Q&A: Olympia on Vulnerability, Independence, and the Emotion Behind “Dear God”
WRITTEN BY ALICIA ZAMORA
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
With a voice that feels both delicate and devastating, Olympia creates music that lingers long after it ends. Her latest single, “Dear God,” is built on emotion before explanation, led by cinematic piano and sweeping strings that immediately pull listeners into its world. Rather than focusing on perfect clarity, Olympia is drawn to feeling first, hoping the song leaves behind what she describes as a “soft heart wrench,” the kind of ache that comes from being truly moved. It’s an approach that makes her music feel deeply human, inviting listeners to sit with vulnerability instead of looking away from it.
The journey that brought her here feels almost storybook in retrospect. Raised on a small Mediterranean island before eventually making the move to London, Olympia spent years chasing a dream that always felt larger than where she began. After competing on The Voice and graduating from a conservatoire in Leeds, she was forced to make a life-changing decision: stay in Greece with the security of major label opportunities or take the risk of building the career she had always imagined in London. Choosing the unknown meant trusting herself completely, and that leap has since become one of the defining moments of her artistic journey.
That sense of self-trust is woven into everything Olympia creates. She often speaks about the importance of listening to your “inner voice,” the instinct that quietly guides you toward what feels true. For her, independence has never been about doing everything alone; it’s about protecting the honesty of her art and allowing herself the freedom to create without losing sight of who she is. The result is music that feels intimate, intentional, and entirely her own.
Read our full conversation with Olympia below.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
LIFE ON JUPITER: When people hear “Dear God” for the first time, what do you hope they feel before they even understand the lyrics?
OLYMPIA: I think the piano and strings already give the feeling away before the lyrics even do. I connected emotionally to the piano long before I came up with any lyrics, and I’d like to think the music speaks for itself. Is it weird if I say I’d like people to feel pain? Like a soft heart-wrench, that deep emotional ache when something truly moves you.
Your journey from a small Mediterranean island to London feels cinematic. What was the turning point?
OLYMPIA: In 2023, before graduating from Leeds, I had to choose between staying in Greece with a major label or taking the risk in London, something I’d always dreamed of. The Voice made me realize I want music forever, but I knew I couldn’t go halfway. So I turned down offers, graduated, and moved to London. I just thought: what’s the worst that can happen?
How has independence shaped your identity as an artist?
OLYMPIA: I see it as an inner voice everyone has—it always knows the right answer. Independence is learning to listen to it. The more you do, the more honest your music becomes. It’s what lets you create on your own terms, and that applies to everything in life.
“Dear God” comes from heartbreak, but it also feels full of strength. Do you think pain can sometimes reveal confidence we didn’t know we had?
OLYMPIA: 100%. The pain of losing someone reflects how deeply you loved them, and that depth takes strength. Giving everything to someone while knowing you could get hurt—that is strength.
You studied classical piano from a young age. How does that discipline still show up in the way you create today?
OLYMPIA: I was never really disciplined when I was younger, and I don’t think I am now. That’s why I stopped classical piano at 18—I didn’t have the passion to practice every day. My discipline now is emotional. I don’t force what I don’t feel. But with music, I never have to—it’s what I love most.
There’s a sense of honesty in your music that feels rare. Was being emotionally open always natural for you, or something you had to learn?
OLYMPIA: Honesty unfolds over time. The more you know yourself, the more honest you become. I’m still working on it, and I don’t think I’m fully there yet. But I think I’m moving in the right direction.
Many artists talk about “finding their sound.” Did your sound come naturally, or did you have to fight for it?
OLYMPIA: I don’t think there’s such a thing as finding your sound. The music you make is a reflection of who you are at that moment. And since we’re constantly changing, the sound changes too. I think it evolves with you.
London can be both inspiring and overwhelming. What has the city brought out in you creatively?
OLYMPIA: London is tricky—you can have the best or worst time, no in between. It can make you feel lonely. But how you deal with that depends on you. Spending time alone helped me reflect, grow, and focus more on music. I think loneliness is necessary for growth, even though it takes guts.
You’ve mentioned teaching yourself English partly through songwriting. Did learning a new language change the way you think about emotion?
OLYMPIA: It didn’t change how I feel emotion, but how I express it. I’ve always struggled with words—even in my native language. I’m more of a melody person. Songwriting took practice, a lot of bad lyrics, and time before emotion and words matched.
What does songwriting give you that ordinary conversation never could?
OLYMPIA: It removes filters. You don’t sugarcoat anything—it’s just you and your thoughts. Songwriting is shameless. Conversations always have a filter.
You created “Dear God” piece by piece, almost like assembling a world. Do you enjoy the process as much as the finished result?
OLYMPIA: It’s all about the process. It’s those moments when ideas randomly appear, like in the shower or when you’re questioning everything and suddenly hear a melody that fits perfectly. It’s about building a vision. Once it’s done, it’s over—you already want the next thing.
Is there something listeners often misunderstand about vulnerability in music?
OLYMPIA: People think vulnerability is weakness. I used to think that too. I would hide my emotions because I didn’t want to seem weak. But vulnerability takes strength. Being open, especially in music, is not weakness at all.
The title Have You Ever Been In Love? feels universal. What drew you to ask such a big, timeless question?
OLYMPIA: Falling in love and loving someone are different. People often aren’t sure if they’ve ever been in love. Being in love feels euphoric—magical, peaceful. I wanted to make music that lets people remember it, live it, or discover it.
Do you write songs to understand your feelings, or do you usually understand them first and then write?
OLYMPIA: I understand them first. I can’t write while I’m going through something—I’m still processing it. Once I understand it, writing becomes easy. I need clarity first.
You’ve had moments of public recognition already, but now this is your own introduction. Does that feel different?
OLYMPIA: Yes. Covers are interpretations, but original music is personal. People connect directly to you.
It also feels like a new introduction because my first audience came from a completely different country and culture.
If someone listens to your music and knows nothing about where you came from, what do you hope they still recognize in you?
OLYMPIA: I’m all for love, romance, and longing. I hope people feel that in my music, the butterflies, roses, sunsets, intensity, everything that comes with being deeply in love.
You’re at the beginning of a new chapter now. What feels most exciting about introducing Olympia to the world properly?
OLYMPIA: The most exciting part of finally introducing myself to the world properly is sharing my music with a completely new audience. I’m really looking forward to playing my music to the world, sharing all the love and emotion it's about, and experiencing all the opportunities, performances, and collaborations that might come my way.