Today we’d like to introduce you to Aselya Kopt.
Hi Aselya, so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?
I’ve never known how to do just one thing. Growing up, I was the kid who got straight A’s and still found time to run for everything — student body president over 2,000 students, then president of my law school’s debate club. Ambition wasn’t a trait I had; it was the only mode I knew.
The real story started in 2008, when I landed in New York at 19 years old, a law student with one suitcase and a certainty I couldn’t explain: this was home. I built my life here piece by piece — a bachelor’s in Criminal Justice, a master’s in Public Administration, and now a Doctorate in Business Administration in progress. In 2016, I became a U.S. citizen. On paper, that’s a timeline. In reality, it’s a decade of proving myself twice as hard as everyone else, in a language and a system that weren’t mine to begin with.
Being the oldest of five, with a twin sister right beside me, meant there was never room to coast. We grew up fast because we had to. Relying on someone else was never an option — so I learned early how to work for everything I wanted.
But underneath the degrees and the discipline, there was always another version of me trying to get out. No matter how demanding my 9-to-5 became, I made room for the creative — modeling, pageantry, performance. I’ve had the chance to work with companies like Neiman Marcus and Givenchy, and represent Kazakhstan on international stages as a titleholder. That side of me never asked permission. It just kept showing up.
Then came the year everything stopped. During COVID, the constant motion I’d built my identity around disappeared overnight, and for the first time, I had no choice but to sit still and actually look at my life. That stillness is what brought me to Los Angeles.
Here, I found the Beverly Hills Playhouse, and teachers Art Cohen and Mia Christou handed me an entirely new world — acting. I’ve since produced and acted in short films, and every project has felt like proof that reinvention is always available to you, no matter your age or where you started.
These past five years in LA didn’t just change my career. They changed me. I found my people here — creative, hardworking, unapologetically ambitious souls who think the way I do. That’s what I love about California: it’s a place that actually delivers on the dream it sells.
And then life gave me its fullest chapter yet. I married my husband, John, in 2024, and in 2025 we welcomed our son, Leo. They are my entire world. I’ve spent my whole life in go-go-go mode, chasing the next title, the next goal, the next version of myself. John and Leo taught me something different — how to be still, and how to feel completely, finally full.
To every young person out there who doubts themselves, who thinks their dream is too big or too far away — think bigger, not smaller. Work hard, surround yourself with people who push you, and be good at what you do no matter what that is. Somewhere along the way, someone will notice. They noticed me.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
It’s never been a smooth road. Moving to a new country at 19 meant starting completely from zero — a new language, a new culture, a legal system I had to learn well enough to actually study it. There was no shortcut and no one to hand me anything; every step, from my visa status to my citizenship in 2016, took years of paperwork, patience, and proving I belonged here.
The other obstacle was more personal: people rarely know what to do with someone who refuses to be one thing. I was told, more than once, to pick a lane — be the academic, or be the creative, but not both. I ignored that advice. Balancing a serious career path with modeling, pageantry, and eventually acting meant constantly being underestimated in one world or the other. It took years to stop explaining myself and just let the results speak instead.
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
I’ve stopped thinking of “work” as one lane. Some days it’s a script, some days it’s a set, some days it’s a case study for my doctorate — but it’s all the same instinct: build something that outlasts the moment. Right now, I’m shifting from chasing opportunities to creating them — developing my own projects instead of waiting for someone to hand me a role. The business degree isn’t a detour from the creative path; it’s the strategy behind it. I’ve watched too many talented people burn out because they never learned the industry side. I don’t plan to be one of them.
Is there something surprising that you feel even people who know you might not know about?
People who know my drive — the degrees, the pageant titles, the constant motion — are usually surprised to hear that motherhood is the thing that’s challenged me the most, and taught me the most. I thought I understood hard work before Leo. I didn’t. Somewhere in the sleepless nights and the complete rearrangement of my priorities, I found a version of strength I didn’t know I had — one that has nothing to do with achievement and everything to do with showing up, exhausted and unglamorous, and loving someone more than yourself. It surprised me most of all.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/aselya.kopt?stkn=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/aselya-kopt-005693153






