Sofía Diéguez is an Argentine transgender actress, singer, performer, playwright and cultural worker. She was born on December 8, 1986, in Buenos Aires and grew up in Lanús. She began studying acting at the age of thirteen and later trained in theatre, musical theatre, ballet and singing, including studies at the Teatro Colón. Her acting training also included work with Alicia Zanca, Ana María Campoy, Pepe Cibrián and Julieta Vallina. At sixteen, she was cast in Pepe Cibrián's El fantasma de Canterville, appearing in the production during the 2003 and 2004 seasons. She subsequently continued her theatrical training and toured Latin America with children's theatre productions. At the age of twenty-five, Sofía began her gender transition and temporarily stepped away from acting and performance. She later returned to the profession with a role in Un gallo para Esculapio.
Her subsequent television work included El Marginal, where she played La Luli, and Telefe's Pequeña Victoria, where she played Violeta. Her theatre career includes Crianzas, el musical, based on the work of Susy Shock, for which she received the 2021 ATINA Award for Female Performer. She later wrote and starred in Magenta, una sirena más allá del mar, a children's musical inspired by the figure of the mermaid and addressing identity and freedom. Her later theatrical work has included Estar System, in which she also participated in the creative and dramaturgical process, and Teoría de la Sirena, a musical biodrama and autobiographical work combining theatre, music and elements of her own life. In 2023, she made her feature-film debut in Natural Arpajou's Unicornio. In 2025, she appeared in El suelo que sostiene a Hande, a Buenos Aires theatre production inspired by the life of Turkish transgender activist Hande Kader. Alongside her acting career, Sofía is a singer and songwriter who performs under the artistic identity La Sirena. In 2022, she released her first single, La Sirena, followed by an EP featuring La Sirena, Medusa, Sola and La Poderosa. She writes her own lyrics and melodies and has also participated in musical performances and live cultural productions. Outside the stage and screen, Sofía has worked as a tutor at the Mocha Celis educational project. Her career encompasses theatre, television, cinema, musical performance, songwriting, dramaturgy and autobiographical work, alongside public work on transgender visibility, representation and trans childhoods.
Monika: Sofía, welcome to The Heroines of My Life! Before we get into theatre, music, mermaids and everything else, let's settle one very important question: after playing so many different characters, do you ever get home and think, "OK, who am I supposed to be today?"
Sofía: No, honestly, I've never thought about it that way.
Monika: You started studying acting when you were only thirteen. What was it about performing that attracted you so strongly at that age, and what did acting give you that you perhaps couldn't find elsewhere?
Sofía: Honestly, it's something innate in me. Ever since I was little I loved taking part in school plays, and I used to put on musical shows for my family, pretending to be the Spice Girls. The truth is that's what I wanted, to be a Spice Girl, to sing. So my aunt Laura told me I could enroll in the singing conservatory in the municipality of Lanús, where I lived as a child, but to get into the conservatory you had to take an exam, and my voice wasn't ready for that at the time. So she enrolled me directly in a theatre workshop instead, told me to go and give it a try, and that's how it all began.
Monika: At sixteen, you entered professional theatre when Pepe Cibrián cast you in El fantasma de Canterville. What do you remember most vividly about that time and about suddenly finding yourself in a professional production?
Sofía: I came from doing musical comedy workshops, where I fell in love with Pepe Cibrián's work. So people from other countries understand, he's like our Andrew Lloyd Webber. Honestly, at sixteen I still had a lot to learn, so I was invited to take part, but as an extra, a very small role, the equivalent of being a film extra. But I was truly happy and I learned an enormous amount. For me it was a dream just to be on that stage, and having Pepe as my teacher marked my life.
Monika: The Little Mermaid has been an important reference throughout your life. Do you remember the first time you saw Ariel and what exactly about her story spoke to you?
Sofía: I remember it perfectly, we were on vacation in Mar del Plata, a coastal city near Buenos Aires. We went to the video store to rent some movies, and in a corner of a shelf I saw a red videocassette with a girl with red hair and a green fish tail that struck me; I had no idea what it was. My cousin told me, "It's The Little Mermaid." We rented it, and the next memory that comes to mind is being up early in the morning, while everyone else was asleep, watching it alone for the second time, at three years old, completely hypnotized. There was something in what was happening to her, in feeling like she belonged to another world, that, even though I was so small, resonated with me too.
Monika: At what point did you realize that your childhood fascination with the mermaid might have had something to do with your own gender identity?
Sofía: As an adult I understood that my fascination came from the parallel between The Little Mermaid's story and that of trans women. On her way to becoming a woman, the Little Mermaid loses her home, her family, her voice; her body goes through changes, and according to Andersen's tale, the witch tells her that with every step she'll feel as if she's walking on nails and knives. The same thing happens to us: many of us lose our homes, our families, and in many cases lose our voice socially, less so today than before, although there are still countries that condemn us. And with badly performed surgeries, often here, at least in Latin America, girls with limited resources have injected all kinds of substances into their bodies, like industrial oil, just to achieve that feminine body, and just like the Little Mermaid, that transformation brings them enormous physical pain.
And in relation to the sea myth, we are the hypersexualization of femininity, the forbidden; men can't get past what happens to them because of us, and just as in Greek myths, they go out hunting us like monsters. I call all of this "the theory of the mermaid." That's why I say mermaids exist: we are them.
Monika: Choosing a name is such a deeply personal decision, one that can hold layers of significance and meaning. How did you come to choose your name Sofia? Does it carry a special resonance for you, perhaps representing a part of your journey or embodying a particular feeling or aspiration?
Sofía: I wanted a name that was simple and feminine, but strong, and a friend suggested it to me. I thought it was beautiful, and on top of that, it means wisdom.
Monika: You began your transition at twenty-five, after already establishing yourself as an actress. What was the hardest part about stepping away from the profession at that point in your life?
Sofía: Honestly, at that time what mattered most to me was my transition, seeing myself the way I wanted to, being able to complete it. Everything else in my life took a back seat. Later, as you grow, you understand that you're constantly transitioning, all the time.
Monika: When you came out, did your mother embrace you as her daughter? And do you feel any connection to her in the way you look, carry yourself, or even in your style and mannerisms?
Sofía: I was very fortunate to have my family by my side, although, of course, it wasn't easy at all for my mother: she had to say goodbye to a son and welcome a daughter. Honestly, when I told her, "Well, starting tomorrow I'm going to live as Sofía twenty-four hours a day," we didn't see each other for a month, although we spoke on the phone. After that month we saw each other, we hugged, we cried, we laughed, and a path of acceptance began that led us to a wonderful, symbiotic relationship and a unique love. Since then I always see so much of her in me; for example, our hands are identical, our eyes, and I inherited a lot of her nobility, although hers is immeasurable.
Monika: You have spoken about your father being very accepting of you from childhood. What did his support mean to you, especially when you began your transition?
Sofía: My dad was always by my side. At sixteen, in tears, I told him that I liked boys, and he hugged me and told me to focus on being happy, that whenever I needed him, Dad would be there to look after me. And when I began my transition, he was the first to see me, and he would always tell me: "How pretty you look, sweetheart, I love what you're wearing." He was proud of me.
Monika: Your father died when you were thirty. Did losing him change the way you understood your own transition or the support he had given you?
Sofía: I miss him terribly. No, it didn't change, because I am who I am thanks to him and my mom; I'm the product of their teachings, ideals and dreams. He never got to see me on television or in film. He would have been so proud, telling everyone: "That's my daughter!"
Monika: Do you remember the first time you met a transgender woman in person? What was that experience like, and how did it make you feel?
Sofía: The first one I ever saw was Flor de la V, who's a celebrity on our television, but in real life I was part of a friend's transition, and it made a real impact on me. I was completely struck by what they go through with hormone therapy, the changes; it was very shocking.
Monika: Your return to acting came through Un gallo para Esculapio, after several years away. Did walking back onto a set after your transition feel like returning to something you had lost, or like beginning an entirely different career?
Sofía: Actually, that small appearance in Un gallo para Esculapio, which was very minor, was the first thing I ever did on screen; before that I had only done theatre. That was what later opened the door for me to El Marginal, and yes, it changed everything completely. Professionally, everything started flowing in a good direction.
Monika: You have played trans characters in productions such as El Marginal and Pequeña Victoria. How do you decide whether a particular trans role contributes something worthwhile to representation?
Sofía: The truth is that artistic work isn't very steady, and unless you're a star, you don't have much say in the matter. Sometimes you have to work anyway, even if you don't love the role that much.
| "La Luli, in El Marginal, opened many doors for me." Photo: @naturalarpajou |
Monika: You have also criticized the tendency to portray trans women mainly through prostitution, sexuality, violence or tragedy. What kinds of trans characters would you like to see appearing more often on Argentine screens?
Sofía: Personally, I'd like to broaden the range and not just be "a trans woman." I would love to play a pregnant woman in her final months, to act out giving birth; I think it would be an amazing challenge.
Monika: Pequeña Victoria brought you into contact with Susy Shock and Marlene Wayar. Susy Shock has become an important figure in your artistic life, and you have described her as a kind of "trava mother." What did she teach you that you couldn't have learned from acting school?
Sofía: Susy and Marlene are two enormous role models in our community, and what Susy came to do, more than teach me, was reinforce something my mom had always told me too: that you have to fight and teach from love, from the embrace, from art.
Monika: Your character La Sirena eventually grew out of your fascination with Ariel, but Susy Shock encouraged you to create your own mermaid. What changed when you stopped thinking about Ariel and started imagining your own?
Sofía: I think that beyond Ariel or Magenta, the message is the same: go after what you long for, fully aware of the consequences, but go after it anyway.
END OF PART 1
All photos: courtesy of Sofía Diéguez.
© 2026 - Monika Kowalska
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