Four years ago, Ayesha Madon was close to giving up. At only 22 years old, the actor was, in her own words, “jaded”. Having spent years in a cycle of auditions and rejections, the relentless tumult of the entertainment industry threatened to dash her childhood dream of being a performer. Then came the job that would change her life.
I first met Ayesha two years ago for an unrelated interview, just after the premiere of Netflix’s hit reboot of Heartbreak High. At that time, the fame thing was fresh. The then-24-year- old joked that people hardly even knew her name and would instead call out her character’s when they saw her in the street (which, she assured me then, she was OK with). While she was open in her conversation, there is nothing “normal” about pouring yourself out to a journalist you have never met in a sterile meeting room, and a sense that she, like many of her cast mates at the time, was still settling into her role as newly minted teen icon was apparent. It was this image of a relatively shy twenty something that I was half expecting to show up at our interview. Instead, in a cafe in Sydney’s west this July, I met a new version of the star.
"We were just all so grateful and counting our lucky stars that we were in that room"
In 2022, the world was introduced to Ayesha via Amerie Wadia, the complicated teen protagonist she portrayed in Heartbreak High. Overnight, she became widely recognisable. Even those that hadn’t seen the show almost certainly saw her ace adorning the Top 10 section of their Netflix homepages. The series was a wild success; its first season won the International Emmy for Best Kids: Live-Action in 2023 as well as several Australian Academy of Cinema and Television Arts (AACTA) Awards, and earned Ayesha a Logie Awards nomination for Most Popular New Talent. Season two was arguably an even bigger hit than the first. While award noms are yet to arrive, the second season of Heartbreak High held its place in the Top 10 shows on Netflix in over 53 countries upon its debut and amassed over 47.8-million viewing hours in its first three weeks. It’s also safe to say it has made stars out of its young, all-Australian cast—with Ayesha, as its leading lady, being propelled up the rungs of the stardom at rapid pace.
“From the word ‘go’ I think there was a special energy about the show,” she tells me over coffee. “Even before we knew it was going to be ‘something’ or whatever; there was something about this project where the entire cast, crew and creatives were just locked in from day one, and we were so excited to be there.” Smiling, she continues, “We were just all so grateful and counting our lucky stars that we were in that room.”
Two of Ayesha’s cast mates, James Majoos and Chika Ikogwe—who play Darren Rivers and Jojo Obah, respectively—were
already friends and colleagues of hers before the show. The trio were working together on Yve Blake’s touring musical FANGIRLS when the call went out for Heartbreak High, and it was the former who nudged Ayesha to audition. Ayesha explains that she knew casting director Amanda Mitchell was involved but, having auditioned for her prior, and teetering on the edge of burnout, she pulled back.
“I had been auditioning for such a long time. Actually, I hadn’t even,” she clarifies with a laugh. “It just felt like it, and doing what felt like hundreds of tapes and not even getting a call back or hearing back, and I kind of just hit the point where I was like, ‘Amanda knows me, Amanda knows my skill set, if she thinks I’m right, she’ll let me know. But this one? I’m not gonna push her.” She pauses, the waiter lowering a coffee onto the table. “I was just so over it to the point where, I remember, I was going to give up on acting.
“Getting rejected, to a certain point, it’s part of the job. But when you go so long without even like, a fraction of validation or a fraction of like, ‘You should be doing this …’ It’s the difference between [questioning] am I being delusional, or am I believing in myself?”
As fate would have it, Amanda did reach out. But even then, Ayesha’s faith wavered. She recalled explaining to James and Chika that she saw herself as “more of a Quinni” (at this point, the loveable Quinni—one of Amerie’s close friends, who would go on to be played by Chloé Hayden—was not specified as being neurodivergent) and asked to audition for that character instead of Amerie.
“The likelihood of getting the lead role, I was like, it’s not going to happen, let’s just hedge my bets on Quinni, you know, POC [person of colour] sidekick energy,” she reflected. However, in the eyes of the casting team, Ayesha was Amerie. Mid-Zoom, she was plucked from the chemistry test and asked to read again for the lead, a role she would ultimately land.
"Racism was so deeply ingrained in the culture that I didn’t even know there was a way that was better. I didn’t even know it wasn’t OK"
When the show’s first season premiered, one of its most recurrent praises—aside from its humour and spot-on representation of Australian teenagedom—was its diversity. In particular, netizens and journalists alike called attention to the fact that its lead was a woman of colour—however, her ethnicity was not central to her character’s arc (nor was it even mentioned, for that matter).
Each generation of Australian media has produced a new crop of teen soap stars, which teenagers around the nation can attach to and see themselves in. For decades, in shows such as Neighbours, Home and Away and Puberty Blues, these idols have typically been white and, more often than not, blonde.
“I rarely think that deeply about it,” says Ayesha, who is of Indian descent, about what it’s like to be one of the first women of colour to lead such a successful Australian teen show. When I do get reminded of it, or a young POC stops me in the street and it’s brought to my attention, it’s very surreal. I feel so much pride in that because I didn’t grow up with people that look like me, especially in this country, in acting or anything.
“I remember this moment where one of my teachers in high school, in no uncertain terms, told me that if I was going to pursue musical theatre, [I should] be prepared to be in the ensemble. And it wasn’t even a shock to me, that’s just how it was,” she says.
Even outside of the arts, Ayesha adds that growing up, “Racism was so deeply ingrained in the culture that I didn’t even know there was a way that was better. I didn’t even know it wasn’t OK.
“There are so many POC predecessors that paved the way for me to be able to step into this role. It makes me really emotional. I just feel so lucky because I know I’ve come from a generation before me of incredible POC talents that just didn’t have the chance to do it. And I just feel very grateful that they pushed so I can be here.”
When it comes to Ayesha’s career, it’s easy to get caught up in the Heartbreak High of it all. But with the streamer having confirmed that the show’s third season will be its last—a decision Ayesha says she is “grateful” for because “having autonomy in where the narrative ends is so important”—its star approaches the end of what has arguably been one of the most transformative chapters of her life.
With that new period, she is in no rush to bury her connection to the show. “At the end of the day, [Heartbreak High] is the thing that has allowed me to do so many other things, and it’s the thing that allowed me to have a career, full stop, period,” says Ayesha.
However, the freed-up schedule is allowing time for her to pursue creative endeavours that may otherwise have been put on the backburner. One such pursuit is relaunching her pop career, which initially kicked off with the release of two singles dropped either side of Heartbreak High’s first season. These tracks, titled ‘Fish & Chips’ and ‘Goldfish’ have since been removed from streaming platforms.
“When I was younger, and probably greener to the music industry, I just felt like I was listening to everyone’s creative intuition except mine. I think that resulted in me releasing stuff that I was half-happy with and not really believing in what I made, or backing what I made,” she says. “Wiping the songs off Spotify wasn’t for optics or for anyone else. It was actually just purely for me mentally to just be like, ‘You know what? If I’m gonna pursue music, I need to know that I have creative autonomy over everything I do.’
"I think this era is different. It’s mine. And I feel more able to be assertive as a woman in the industry as well"
This phase, which Ayesha has creative control over, is well underway. She has already released two singles, ‘Eulogy’ and ‘Blame Me,’ which carry a familiar pop sound with a darker twist than her past releases—the music video for the latter sees Ayesha cannibalise a lover. “The song was really poppy and really slick, so I was like, there needs to be an element of tongue in cheek or something funny about this. Like, how are we gonna make this a little unhinged?” she jokes.
The reference may sit outside the lines of a squeaky-clean pop image, but it’s hers. “If I do my work for me, then people will probably resonate with it more, because it’s more personal,” says Ayesha, “I think when you’re doing things for yourself, you’re able to lock into a creative flow and have a certain level of feeling comfortable and just [get] more personal.”
This peek behind the curtain via her music is potentially the closest look fans will get into Ayesha’s private life. The star is fiercely protective of her personal life, and has done well to avoid the panopticon of tabloid probing that has long been a sexist and treacherous rite-of-passage for rising starlets. Despite keeping the things most “sacred” to her close, Ayesha has been incredibly open with fans about her journey with her mental health.
Ayesha has spoken candidly about her anxiety and how it has impacted her day to day. Many people, with or without anxiety, struggle to navigate the ebbs and flows of their mid-twenties and Ayesha spent hers with the media and fans watching. While reiterating how grateful she is for the show’s impact and fans’ connection to it, of being known and noticed, she explains, “It is stressful, but I think it’s also forced me to be really comfortable with myself. Being perceived is horrible at first but then, when you just allow yourself to be perceived for who you are. I just think there’s so much strength and power in just feeling comfortable with [that]. When you accept yourself in that way, it’s less painful.”
It was during a conversation with her psychologist about these struggles with confidence earlier this year that delivered a diagnosis which would make everything click. Having explained behavioural patterns and childhood experiences, like struggling to keep up in classes, that led to her feeling “like a bit of a fish out of water growing up”, Ayesha was prompted to consider being tested for ADHD. The return of a positive test led to a reframing of self-perception.
“I used to consider myself quite lazy and quite slow and [harboured] a lot of negativity around the way I operated. I think being able to categorise it with a label has maybe allowed me to forgive myself a bit and give myself a bit of leeway for my behaviours.” Her voice softening, she continues, “It’s also allowed me to pay attention to the great aspects of having ADHD. The hyperfocus, creativity and being hyper-emotional and, as a result, empathetic and emotionally intelligent, and [therefore] being able to be there [for] your friends in a way that a lot of their friends can’t be.”
Ayesha is, in many ways it seems, learning to be gentle with herself. Throughout her career, imposter syndrome has also been a hurdle, with a dissonance between the public’s perception of her and how she feels about herself having gently narrowed over time.
"to step into that role and feel like I deserve it, and believe that I can be a role model, believe in what I do, and believe in my work"
“I think one thing that has been massive for me has been to step into that role and feel like I deserve it, and believe that I can be a role model, believe in what I do, and believe in my work,” she says.
It appears that Ayesha is seeing in herself what Amanda Mitchell saw, what her fans have seen since the start, and what huge brands seeking her collaboration are beginning to notice at a rapidly increasing pace. Ayesha has been announced as the new local ambassador for Maybelline New York, and earlier this year starred in a campaign for the cult beauty brand alongside three other homegrown musicians on the rise.
“When things like that happen to me, I still have this element of [questioning], ‘Is that a mistake? Do they have the right person?’ It’s still very confusing, but it’s also so cool, and it’s stuff that I dreamt of when I was little. I grew up watching Maybelline on TV and mimicking [the slogan] ‘Maybe she’s born with it. Maybe it’s Maybelline’.
“It’s so cool to see massive brands like Maybelline supporting skill sets within women,” she adds. “I feel like, back in the day, with beauty standards, the emphasis was on the wrong thing. I hope it’s something that continues and Maybelline starts a trend because I think it’s so important.”
A week after our interview, shooting her cover on a rooftop in Sydney’s Double Bay, I watch as Ayesha stands still as can be against the push of a rising wind. The camera clicks and her gaze steadies, focusing on its lens; her legs straighten, her shoulders pull back, her head rises to the frame of the camera. In that moment, it’s hard to view her in any way other than standing completely in her power. It was and remains abundantly clear:
his blossoming era—of Australian pop, of her career and of her life—belongs to Ayesha Madon. Good thing she never gave up. Oh, and people know her name now, she confims—even if they do still pronounce it wrong sometimes.
This article originally appeared in Issue 02 of Cosmopolitan Australia. Get your copy to see the full shoot, and subscribe to future issues here.
Styling: Fleur Egan; Photography: Jordan Malane; Hair: Brittany Fordham; Makeup: Jade Kisnorbo, Maybelline New York; Photography Assistant: Lachlan Starling
