WRITING HER OWN ROLE w/Lolita Milena

From Siberia to the stage, Lolita Milena’s story is one of unimaginable resilience and undeniable talent. Paralyzed at the age of two due to an act of abuse in foster care, she has never let her wheelchair define her path—only refine her purpose. Today, as an actress, author, dancer, and advocate, Lolita is breaking barriers in the entertainment industry and beyond. Through every role she plays and every story she tells, she offers the world a deeper understanding of strength, identity, and what it truly means to rise.

ALLIÉ: Let’s start out this way. Before we dive into your artistry and advocacy, I’d love to just go back to the beginning. For those just meeting you now, can you share a bit about where your story started—from the early days in Siberia to the moment everything changed for you at just two years old?

LOLITA: So, a lot of my beginning that you just described was told to me, because I personally don’t have any first-hand recollection of it. But from what I know—from records and all the tellings from police to my parents—I was born in a barn in Siberia along the Amur River, in the Amur region.

I lived in Russia for approximately two-ish years before a foster family in Ohio brought me and another child to the United States with the intention to adopt us. The reason they had chosen to go that route instead of adopting children in the U.S. was because it was more lenient process-wise to bring children over from another country. They kept getting denied in the U.S.—which honestly should’ve been a bit of a foreshadowing moment for people.

I spent nine months with that family before the foster father, in a fit of rage, broke my spinal cord at the T12 area. I was then immediately placed with my current family, who adopted me when I was five years old. I was their foster child from ages two to five. They specialized in emergency placements for traumatized, disabled, and special needs children. I gained eight sisters and a brother. All of us have some form of disability, whether it’s mental or physical. And life basically started when I entered that home.

ALLIÉ: That is incredible. I don’t think there are many people who can say they were born in a barn.

LOLITA: Well, I mean, there was a very famous man 2,000 years ago who was born in a barn.

ALLIÉ: This is true. So, you and him. And there we go… Let’s switch gears a bit. After everything you just shared—everything you endured so early in life—I think it would’ve been really easy and understandable to shrink back from society. But you didn’t shrink. You went forward—onto a stage, into a spotlight. So, I guess my question now is: what is it that called you to perform?

LOLITA: Well, when you say I didn’t shrink—it was more so that I had a family that was so understanding. The majority of my siblings went through worse than I did, and in their own way, they didn’t want to see someone so young back away from society and from what they could be.

So, I was a very timid and shy kid for about a minute—until I developed my voice. I learned English. I had very broken English. Russian, too. It was all very broken. I don’t remember any Russian anymore—so no Russian for me. But after I came out of my shell and started talking to anyone who would listen (in stores, with my mother or my sisters), we went to see a show at the Ballet Theatre of Ohio. It was Sleeping Beauty.

In the theater I grew up attending, there was an ADA section. So, I was just dancing in circles in my wheelchair—and the ballet instructor took notice. She approached my parents after the show and offered me a position with the dance company. I went on to be with them for about five to six years.

ALLIÉ: That is amazing. So it was Sleeping Beauty that got you started. Do you remember what it felt like? I mean, it was quite some time ago and you were quite young, but do you remember what that moment felt like—the very first time you danced in front of an audience?

LOLITA: It was opening night. We were getting ready to go to the theater, and my older sisters loved to tease me. I think that’s just what siblings do. I had no idea what the term ‘stage fright’ meant. I didn’t know it was a thing.

I had been doing really well in rehearsals, but my sisters teased me, saying, “You’re going to get this thing called stage fright, because you’ll be performing in front of 3,000 people.” It was opening night, and the Nutcracker was a huge deal every season.

I was sitting in this 1850s wheelchair, about five times too big for me, and I was playing with my dress, thinking, I don’t know what this is going to feel like. Will it feel like a scary movie? A bad dream?

I got through Act One, left the stage, and I remember thinking, “Well, nothing happened. I had fun.” I told my father that on the drive home, and he said, “That’s how you know you were born to do it—because you didn’t get stage fright. That’s how you know this is for you.”

ALLIÉ: Beautiful. Let’s talk about your home growing up—with nine other siblings, many of them fellow foster youth. That must have created a world full of layers and different perspectives. So, here’s my question: what role did storytelling play in your household?

LOLITA: To begin with, I didn’t grow up with all nine at one time. The oldest three were my parents’ biological children. They were grown by the time I came into the home—had children of their own, had all moved out.

So, I mostly grew up with the foster kids—all girls. And when it comes to storytelling, they each had different senses of humor, and they were all different versions of dark. That’s where I got my dark sense of humor. But I appreciated that, because I learned where to draw the line with humor. I think a lot of people—even big-time comedians—can struggle with that. It’s not their fault; it’s just different perspectives. But I’m very grateful I learned where to draw the line, especially now that I’m an entertainer myself.

As for storytelling, it was everywhere. They all had different movies and books they liked. My sister who’s deaf—once she found out I knew how to read—made sure I got into Marvel, DC, Harry Potter, all the fantastical things. Other sisters loved horror films. My mom accidentally took me to see Saw when I was four years old—she thought it was a cop thriller (oops). I had sisters who loved comedies and would sneak me into their bedroom at night to watch White Chicks.

So, if I wanted a scary movie—I had sisters for that. If I wanted comedies or deep dramas—I had others for that too. My mother and I bonded over movies. My father and I bonded over books. Stories were everywhere in my house, whether they liked it or not.

ALLIÉ: I love that—stories in all different forms and formats. So, how did storytelling help shape your own voice?

LOLITA: I was writing and creating stories by six years old. I had all those dollar store journals filled from cover to cover with short stories. It helped me realize how big I could make my world—that my world didn’t have to have a final atmosphere to it.

Most of my stories today come from dreams. My brain starts creating stories with beginnings, middles, and ends, and all I have to do is wake up and write it into a script or a novel. That started around age 10 or 11. My father once said, “That’s how you know it’s a gift—when it comes so naturally, you can’t stop it.”

Writing helped me through a lot of hardships. I could write stories with the endings I wanted—not the endings reality gave me. It’s how I tackled obstacles creatively. By age 12, it had become a huge outlet for me.

ALLIÉ: Yes—and especially as a child dealing with trauma, that outlet becomes a way to gain control. You become the one holding the pen.

You’ve been outspoken about the need for authentic disability representation in media. So, when you look at the roles you’ve played—and the ones you dream of playing—what’s the story that hasn’t been told yet that you’d like to bring to life?

LOLITA: I actually have that story in the works already. I’ve been discussing it with some production people, so I don’t want to give too much away. But I’ve been brewing it for five and a half years—it’s my baby.

I tell my family, if I can only make one movie before I die, it’s going to be this one. I want to showcase strength—specifically in paraplegics. Not just mental strength. I grew up with Professor X, Bentley the turtle from Sly Cooper, Barbara Gordon from DC—all these characters in wheelchairs who compensated with intelligence. And that’s not a bad thing. But I used to wonder—why can’t there be physical strength too?

I loved The Dark Tower and the character of Odetta. She had physical strength. I want to bring that kind of layered strength into storytelling. I think mainstream media doesn’t touch on that often—or they did once and then went back to the same formula. I want to prove these “niche” ideas can work on a big scale.

ALLIÉ: I love that. There’s such a difference between check-the-box representation and authentic representation. So, uh—can you get this going soon? Because I would very much like to watch it.

LOLITA: Tell them. Tell Hollywood. I’ve been trying—please!

ALLIÉ: All right—we’ll see what connections we can make here. Just one more question for you, Lolita. You’ve turned so many chapters of your life into art—through movement, through words, through all those journals you’ve filled, through film. But what chapter are you writing now, in your own personal life story? Maybe one the world hasn’t seen yet. What would that chapter look like?

LOLITA: Right now, I’m putting all my memories into one cohesive manuscript. I started doing that when the realization hit me that—even though I’m adopted—my father, my adopted father, had ALS. He was starting to develop memory issues. For my father, his brain was everything. He was IQ-wise a genius. And I think the scariest thing for him was losing that.

It hit me after I graduated high school that I don’t know my medical history. So right now, my personal mission is to get my life written down—as I remember it—before I no longer can, or before someone else tries to change that narrative.

I want it told in my own words—while I still have the chance to write them. ∎

Find & follow Lolita on Instagram:
@lolita.milena