Helena Victoria shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Hi Helena, thank you for taking the time to reflect back on your journey with us. I think our readers are in for a real treat. There is so much we can all learn from each other and so thank you again for opening up with us. Let’s get into it: What are you being called to do now, that you may have been afraid of before?
Thank you so much for having me again. Always great connecting with you guys. Since we’ve last spoke, I knew the direction I was moving toward. What’s changed since then isn’t my vision, but my courage to fully act on it.
This year has been pushing me to step into the next level of myself without waiting for the “perfect moment.” I feel called to stop shrinking, stop second-guessing, and finally align my life with the artist and woman I’ve been quietly becoming.
I’m being pushed to trust myself more. My timing, my instincts, and the path that’s been opening for me. That includes expanding my directing and acting career, seeking representation, and preparing for my permanent move to Los Angeles. So the calling now is simple: Show up. Take the leap. Stop waiting for permission. And for the first time, I feel ready.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Helena Victoria and I’m an actor, director, and dancer that also happens to write. I move through the creative world with a curious mix of discipline, intuition, and fire. I write, direct, and perform because storytelling is the only language that has ever felt like home to me. Earlier this year, I won Best Director at the Hollywood Screenings Film Festival for my short film, “Masking.” It’s a project I wrote, directed, and starred in. That moment wasn’t just exciting. It felt like confirmation that I’m walking in the direction I’ve always been called toward.
My work centers on emotional truth. The kinds of stories that sit in your chest, not just your mind. Whether I’m in front of the camera, behind it, or choreographing movement through dance, I’m always chasing the same thing: depth, honesty, and impact. Right now, I’m focused on expanding my creative footprint, developing new film projects, and aligning with representation in the LA market.
I’ve always known my future is tied to this industry. It’s not something I chose casually. It’s something that never left me alone. And now I’m building, step by step, toward the life and career I’ve imagined since childhood.
Okay, so here’s a deep one: Who were you before the world told you who you had to be?
Before the world told me who I had to be, I was a little girl in the projects of Gary, Indiana with nothing but imagination and instinct. I didn’t grow up with access to the arts. No dance studios, no acting classes, and no cameras. I had stories in my head and a stubborn feeling that there was something bigger waiting for me.
I didn’t know it at the time, but I was already studying people. Movies and TV shows were my compass. Performance was my secret language. I used whatever I had – space, silence, daydreams, drawing, and writing to create worlds no one else could see.
Things shifted when I was about eleven or twelve and I finally got the chance to attend Emerson School for the Visual and Performing Arts. That was the first time the outer world matched what I knew internally. I wasn’t imagining anymore. I was training. I was learning technique, discipline, and the craft. That early spark that started in the projects suddenly had room to breathe.
But life got louder as I got older. Responsibilities, survival mode, relationships, and expectations. You know? All the noise that makes you forget who you were before you were taught who to be. I adapted. I endured. And for a while, my artistic identity sat in the background.
In the last few years, I’ve been finding my way back. Through film, dance, acting, and directing, I’ve been reclaiming the most honest version of myself. The girl who dreamed before she had the language for her dreams.
That’s the version I returned to now: the artist who always knew where she was going, even before the world gave her permission.
If you could say one kind thing to your younger self, what would it be?
If I could tell my younger self one kind thing, it would be this:
“YOU WERE NEVER WRONG ABOUT WHO YOU ARE.”
She knew long before I had the language for it. She, as in, the girl who danced in small rooms, who rewound VHS tapes studying performers, who allowed herself to feel deep emotions and expressed them through writing and drawing, and the one who treated imagination like oxygen. She had no roadmap, no blueprint, no proof…and still, she knew.
I would tell her that the world tried to convince her she was asking for too much, dreaming too big, or moving too differently, but she wasn’t. She was simply ahead of her environment. I would tell her she wasn’t dramatic for wanting more, or ungrateful for wanting out, or unrealistic for believing she’ll create art that mattered. She wasn’t “too much” or “too weird.” She wasn’t “not enough.” She was simply becoming. I’d tell her she didn’t have to rush. That every delay, every detour, every dream deferred was shaping her voice, her resilience, her point of view. The exact qualities she now uses in her work as an actor and director. Most of all, I’d tell her:
“YOU MAKE IT OUT. YOU CREATE BEAUTY. YOU BECOME THE WOMAN YOU ALWAYS HOPED EXISTED. AND NOTHING WAS WASTED ON THE WAY THERE.”
Next, maybe we can discuss some of your foundational philosophies and views? What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
The one thing I’m committed to, no matter how long it takes, is growing into the clearest version of my artistry. Right now, that doesn’t look like a specific film or a specific project. It looks like preparation such as sharpening my craft, expanding my skills, and positioning myself for the opportunities I know are ahead.
The entertainment industry can be unpredictable, but the one thing I can control is my development. So I treat myself as the long-term project. The more I grow, the more aligned opportunities I attract. That’s the commitment: staying ready, evolving, and investing in my voice as an artist with no expiration date.
Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
I hope people say I was a woman who chose herself fully, finally, and without apology. That I didn’t wait for permission to create, to move, or to reinvent my life.
Growing up, I spent hours getting lost in movies and television. The people on screen felt like portals or reminders that imagination could become real life. That stories could change you, even save you. That art could make life feel bigger. So I hope people say my work did that. That something I created made them feel seen, or hopeful, or less alone. That watching me walk my path made them believe a little more in their own.
I hope they say I turned my challenges into clarity, my detours into direction, and my voice into something steady enough for others to lean on. And if the story becomes: “She lived in a way that made other people braver” then that means I did exactly what I came here to do.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://linktr.ee/helenavictoria
- Instagram: @helenavictoriia_
Image Credits
Profile Image: Juan Guajardo
Performance Photo: Jorge Elizondo
Best Director Photo: Mark Mos
