Antonia: I started acting while I was in my third year of psychology. Even though it wasn’t something I had practiced formally before, I went to a school that strongly encouraged the arts in general, and I think I already sensed it would be something I’d enjoy. From a very young age until I finished school, I practiced contemporary dance and different styles of movement. So even if acting itself was unfamiliar territory, the stage and the performative world had always held a privileged place in me.

The turning point came through an invitation from a casting director who happened to see me in an everyday situation. I ended up accepting her invitation to audition for a TV series. From that moment on, I never really stopped. I was lucky — and very grateful — that from the beginning I could explore different audiovisual formats, not just television, but also series and film.

Antonia: I’ve always felt a kind of debt to academia, and at times I still have this unfulfilled desire — a fantasy — that if I had studied theatre, I would have been very happy and learned a great deal. I don’t rule it out entirely, even now. But I also believe my path has been wise and organic in its own way.

Coming from psychology, carrying motherhood with me, and then moving into acting created a more complex journey — calmer, less anxious, less competitive. I think that has a lot to do with knowing there’s a place of refuge to return to. I’ve never stopped doing clinical work, and it has always been an intellectually rich and deeply connective space. Sometimes challenging, yes, but never as anxiety-inducing as acting can be.

Motherhood also forced me to prioritize life — practically and emotionally. Responsibilities, concerns, attention: all of that inevitably shifts your focus. It widens your perspective and releases pressure elsewhere. Motherhood became that great reminder not to confuse what truly matters. At times one can feel dizzy or lost, but there’s always a return to what is intimate and essential.

Antonia: What feels most draining isn’t acting itself, but rather the instability that often comes with artistic work. When you’re actually acting, the emotional release is also nourishment — it never feels like depletion, quite the opposite.

Given the constant uncertainty and fluctuation around work, what really helps me is building structures that function as support. Routines are essential: my psychotherapy practice, and exercising at least four times a week, are part of what keeps me grounded.

Antonia : My way of dressing is quite sober — mostly basics, almost always black. Black has always felt comfortable for me. Still, I’ve often fantasized about being more daring. From time to time I do push myself, and it’s a good exercise, a good experiment.

Acting allows me to live out that fantasy in a way that feels justified — in the name of fiction. It’s like I’m allowed to play, and there’s a certain fulfillment in that. At the same time, clothing works as a kind of emotional thermometer for me. Through my choices, I can tell how I’m feeling: whether I’m in a place of practicality, chaos, flirtation, simplicity, boldness, sadness, brightness, or disconnection.

That’s something I find beautiful — the body and clothing have always spoken about how we are feeling.

Antonia: I’ve been living in Berlin for almost six years now. Even though I wouldn’t say I feel completely at ease — culturally and linguistically it can still be challenging — for the past three years, something has shifted. When I return to Berlin after work trips or visits to Chile, I feel a sense of familiarity. I feel like I’m coming home — to my things, my family, my life here.

That said, Santiago will always feel deeply comfortable to me — it’s my city. But the intensity and anxiety that sustain the capital can be overwhelming. There’s a strong culture of living to work, one we’re deeply dependent on, for better and worse. The result is fewer moments of enjoyment, less space to creatively self-manage our inner worlds, and ultimately a lower quality of life.

Of course, I miss my people — my family and friends — those deep bonds that I value and work on constantly. I miss what also sometimes overwhelms me about Chile: the closeness between people, the chaos, the danger, the intensity, the sense of collectivity. These are the same things that can saturate me, too.

I always miss the Pacific, and the south that I love so much — full of mountains, endless greens, soft clouds, and lakes.

Antonia: I’m lucky to have beautiful, comfortable silk designs — sober yet daring at the same time — which connects directly to what I mentioned earlier. Having garments I can play with feels very good to me.

I’m really enjoying this slow arrival of the Berlin summer, always so longed for. It’s been a pleasure to wear these quality fabrics, such comfortable designs, and such beautiful colors during this time.