We recently connected with Rosie Roy and have shared our conversation below.

Rosie, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. Do you wish you had started sooner?

Oh, I would’ve started wayyyyy sooner, no question about it. My creative journey technically kicked off with dance when I was 11, which in the dance world is already considered fashionably late. By the time I touched down in Los Angeles at 23, I already felt like I was chasing time, trying to catch up in an industry that doesn’t exactly wait for anyone.

But truthfully? My heart was calling loud and clear for dance, that was my first love, and at the time, it was all I really knew. But deep down, it was craving so much more. Acting was one of those hidden passions that kept tugging at me. It’s not that I stayed quiet about my dreams, everyone knew I wanted to dance professionally. But growing up in a province that didn’t offer full-on performing arts programs with acting, singing, and dancing all in one, I felt a bit boxed in. I needed more than what was available. And being an English-speaking girl in a French-speaking world, while dreaming of international stages and Hollywood screens, made it all feel just out of reach.

If I had started sooner, I think my path would’ve looked wildly different, maybe more opportunities, maybe more belief in that little girl who used to dance around the living room pretending she was on So You Think You Can Dance. But honestly, the universe has its own twisted sense of timing, and I truly believe there’s a reason why it didn’t happen before.

It had to happen when it did.

My official leap into acting happened in September 2021, yep, fresh off the heels of the pandemic. I’d just lost a job I really loved in event planning and marketing for a catering company (thank you, Covid), and I was juggling a retail floor manager gig with social media work for an interior design company. Then came this wild little voice in my gut that said, “Drop it all. Go to LA. Just try.” So I listened. I packed up, went for three months, and took my first acting class. That class changed everything. I had a full-body epiphany. My entire life played like a reel in my head, and I finally got it. I was acting now because now is when I’m meant to.

Do I wish I started sooner? Sure. For me. For the dreams I kept on pause. But I also know this: the moment I stepped out of my comfort zone, the real magic began. Sometimes you’ve got to leave the nest and grow your own wings, even if they’re a little late to sprout.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?

Hi, I’m Rosie Roy, an actor, storyteller, dancer and passionate creative. My journey started with dance, but acting has become my true home. I stepped into the craft just after the pandemic and haven’t looked back since. I create work that’s bold, heartfelt, and grounded in truth. Whether it’s through performance or story concepts I bring to life. What sets me apart is my ability to blend raw emotion with a strong sense of presence, and a deep love for connecting with people through story. I’m most proud of The Big Match Girl, my first short film inspired by one of my own ideas, and the leap of faith I took to start this path. At the heart of everything I do is a mission to inspire others to bet on themselves, even if it’s a little late, even if it’s scary. It’s never too late to chase the thing that lights you up.

Do you think there is something that non-creatives might struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can shed some light?

One thing I think non-creatives often don’t fully grasp is that pursuing a creative path isn’t just about talent or dreaming big, it’s about relentless resilience, sacrifice, and a deep-rooted sense of purpose. There’s no step-by-step guide, no clear benchmarks, and so much of the work is invisible: applying for grants, self-producing, building relationships, and dealing with rejection while staying grounded in who you are.

Coming from Quebec City, outside the traditional entertainment centers, I’ve often had to carve out my own lane and build momentum from scratch. When I produced The Big Match Girl, a story inspired by my life struggles, it was a reflection of my ability to bring the right people together and shape something powerful through collaboration. I have a knack for surrounding myself with incredible creatives, and I trust the magic that happens when we come together for something bigger than ourselves.

People have said things like, “Oh Rosie, you always wanted to be famous,” as if that somehow discredits the depth of this calling. But they couldn’t be more wrong. It was never about fame, it’s always been about expression. I’ve felt more at home on stage than at most public events. Performing isn’t about seeking attention, it’s about telling the truth. Artists are probably the most authentic people you’ll ever meet. Our love language is our art, and even when we know we are very much underpaid, we keep creating, not just for passion or love, but because we’re compelled to. That doesn’t mean our work is any less valuable or that it should be taken for granted.

Dancers, painters, singers, actors, acrobats and the list goes on, we pour our entire selves into what we do. What people see is the final performance or piece, but what they miss is the discipline, consistency, emotional labor, and the ten-plus years of work it often takes to get there. Being an artist isn’t about the finished product, it’s about the journey, the process, and the in-between. It’s a life that never really pauses, because we are always listening, feeling, shaping, and dreaming.

How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?

I’m still learning about the industry, but one thing I’ve come to understand deeply is how independent films feel, raw, real, and rooted in truth. There’s a kind of magic in them that doesn’t rely on spectacle or celebrity. They take risks. They tell underrepresented stories. They reflect the quiet complexities of real life. And yet, they often don’t get the resources or recognition they deserve.

In my view, society needs to rethink how we define value in the arts. We’ve become so fixated on box office numbers and franchise-level success that we’ve started to overlook what truly makes art meaningful. Not all stories need to be loud or viral to be worthy. Sometimes the most powerful ones are the ones whispered, created with heart, honesty, and urgency.

To me, supporting artists means paying attention to the quieter voices. Going to local screenings, sharing your friend’s short film, choosing to watch something new and different even if it doesn’t have a huge name attached. It’s the little things that make a big difference. You don’t have to be an expert to care. Just listen and make space.

I’m still carving out my place in all this, but I know that indie artists are often the heart of cultural change. A vibrant creative world isn’t built on blockbusters alone, it’s built on truth, experimentation, and the courage to create without guarantees.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @rosie_roy
• Other: IMDb: Imdb.me/rosieroy

Image Credits

Image credits in order;
Jared Kahn Photography (casting pic)
Samuel Fournier
BTS “The Big Match Girl”
@lacoco.vintage (IG)
BTS “The Big Match Girl”