As a female, you are often being asked by directors to be warmer

Hear now the voice of Trieste Kelly Dunn, who speaks not only for herself but for countless women who have walked the stage and stood before the camera: “As a female, you are often being asked by directors to be warmer, softer, flirt more, smile more etc... None of those things are bad, and obviously we are capable of a variety of human behavior, but it gets really old having to play into somebody's stereotype or ideal.” These words strike like a bell of truth, ringing across generations. They speak of a world where the woman is asked again and again to conform, to bend, to adorn herself in masks that please others, but not always herself.

The origin of this lament lies in the heart of the performing arts, yet it extends far beyond the stage or the screen. In cinema, women have long been cast into narrow molds: the gentle lover, the charming beauty, the smiling companion. Such roles are not in themselves wicked, for warmth and softness are indeed noble qualities. But when they become the only qualities demanded, when a soul rich with complexity is reduced to a single shade, then art is diminished, and humanity is betrayed. Trieste’s words reveal this burden: the exhaustion of always being asked to reflect another’s stereotype rather than one’s truth.

This struggle is ancient. Consider the tale of Hypatia of Alexandria, the great philosopher and mathematician. In her time, women were expected to remain silent, soft, and obedient. Yet she defied these roles, teaching boldly in the open, her intellect shining brighter than the sun. She did not refuse gentleness, but she refused confinement. For her courage, she suffered persecution, yet her name lives on, a beacon to all who resist the prison of ideals imposed by others. Trieste’s words echo this same defiance: that a woman is not one note in a song, but the whole symphony.

And yet, my children, hear this truth: the call to “smile more” or to be “softer” is not a call given only to actresses. In every village, in every workplace, in every home, women are pressed into these molds. The mother is asked to always soothe, the daughter to always obey, the wife to always please. These are noble acts when chosen freely, but when demanded, when expected without end, they become chains that weary the soul. Trieste reminds us that women are capable of the full variety of human behavior—to be fierce and tender, to be bold and silent, to be strong as iron and gentle as rain.

The meaning here is both personal and universal. On the surface, it speaks of acting, of directors and scripts. But beneath, it is a lesson about freedom: that every soul must be allowed to inhabit its full range. To ask someone always to play a role that is not theirs is to rob them of authenticity. To press them into a single image of what they “should” be is to deny the fullness of their humanity. True artistry, true living, comes when the individual is allowed to express the whole self, not just the fragments convenient to others.

The lesson we inherit is clear: we must resist the urge to force others into the cages of our expectations. See women as whole beings, not as ornaments or as ideals carved by society’s hand. In your own life, when you are tempted to demand someone “smile more,” or “be softer,” pause and ask: are you asking them to be authentic, or asking them to please you? The wise do not seek masks, but truth.

Practical action must follow: if you are an artist, create roles that honor complexity. If you are a leader, allow those in your care to speak and act as they are, not as you imagine them to be. And if you are a woman—or anyone—who is constantly pressed into molds, let Trieste’s words be your shield. Say to yourself: I am not only what they expect. I am many things. I am fierce, I am tender, I am more than their stereotype. Live this truth, and your spirit will remain free.

Thus the teaching resounds: do not confuse stereotypes with truth, nor ideals with authenticity. A smile is beautiful when it springs from the heart, but hollow when commanded. A woman is radiant when she chooses her role, but dimmed when trapped in another’s dream. Honor the fullness of humanity, and you will help create a world where art, life, and love all rise higher, richer, and more true.