From Dubai to New York: Danabelle Gutierrez is the Filipina creative rewriting the script

Dubai: Danabelle Gutierrez doesn’t just write poetry — she lives it. An award-winning Filipina writer, actress, and photographer, Gutierrez has carved a name for herself from Dubai to Washington DC, commanding stages in Riyadh, London, New York, and Houston. She proudly represented the UAE as a poetry delegate at the Smithsonian Folklife Festival, proving that her voice resonates far beyond borders.

Her talent spans mediums. As an actress, Gutierrez swept accolades across the UAE film scene:

• Best Actress, Dubai International Film Festival 48-Hour Film Project (for Aurora, 2016).

• Best Actress, Emirates Short Film Festival (for Aurora, 2017 and Girl Next Door, 2018) in Dubai.

• Named a Film Ambassador by the Film Development Council of the Philippines (FDCP) in Manila, 2019.

But it’s her writing — raw, lyrical, and fiercely honest — that continues to leave a lasting mark. Whether tracing heartbreak, healing, or the quiet power of motherhood, Gutierrez’s work speaks with emotional clarity and poetic fire.

In this exclusive interview from her Sharjah home, she opens up about her journey from screen to page, how motherhood is reshaping her creativity, and what it means to live an unfiltered life in full color. Candid, witty, and unapologetically real — this is Danabelle Gutierrez, exactly as she is.

Q: You’ve had such a rich creative journey. Can you share some highlights from your time as an actress—what projects were you part of, and what roles did you play? Do you miss acting? Did you ever have a dream role?

A: I think the biggest highlight for me was getting awarded as a Film Ambassador by the FDCP in 2019 in the Philippines. It just felt real at that point, because at the time, being an actress for me didn’t feel real—it was like I was pretending to be an actress, which is funny because being an actress is pretending also.

I was in a lot of short films. During that era, there were a lot of platforms where directors and writers could create. I haven’t been in that arena for a while. I was an extra for a full-length film that was shot in Abu Dhabi called Yellow Bus, it was a very small speaking part.

I do miss it. But there aren’t very many parts for a plus-sized, Asian, tattooed 40-year-old. A dream role would probably be a role in a sitcom or a series. I like the idea of being able to embody a character for a longer period. I imagine it would be fun, like working in an office—except it’s a studio.

Q: You’ve published four books so far—how has your voice evolved with each one, especially now that you’re navigating motherhood?

A: I think with the first book (I Long To Be The River, 2014), I was just trying things out. To be completely honest, I knew nothing, and if I could, I’d take back writing that first book. It was too messy—just all over the place.

The second book (& Until The Dreams Come, 2015), the persona was a lot clearer. There was a subtle narrative the book was following. Though looking back at the poems, I’d take a red pen and edit some line breaks and repetitive lines just to tighten it up.

Between the second and third book, I wrote two chapbooks. One (Eventually, The River Surrenders, 2021) was dealing with the aftermath of & Until The Dreams Come, kind of an epilogue. The voice in that second book was too strong, and while writing Tears Across The Earth, I realized I needed a shift. I wanted it to be a coming-home book, and you can’t lead someone home with a voice that isn’t welcoming. So I wrote Softer (2021), the second chapbook, as a sort of prologue. Both were released as limited editions at Jameel Arts Centre.

The third book (Tears Across The Earth, 2022) was more experimental—short stories and poems—but I consider it one of my best works.

The fourth book (The F Word, 2024) was a surprise. I hadn’t planned on writing it, but I had enough poems to fill a book. With my father’s death and the circumstances around my pregnancy, I wanted to rid my body of that trauma before my son was born. Putting the book together was my way of saying, “Here are all the sad and bad things I no longer want to carry. I’ll put it on paper. Bye.”

Short answer: my voice hasn’t evolved so much as it’s adapted to whatever each book needed. Now with motherhood, I’m not sure how my voice will change. I haven’t been writing much, and that’s okay. Some years are for writing, and some years are for living. Right now, I’m in the living years with Cairo.

Q: Can you take us back to the beginning—how did you fall in love with poetry? What sparked your creative path?

A: I wanted to be a storyteller. That was the dream—to imagine realities and write stories. I started writing as a teenager. I had so many ideas: outlines, drafts, chapter ones, a screenplay in a notebook. But I never finished anything.

In 2012, I challenged myself to write something from start to finish. It took a year, but I finished a novel—about 50,000 words. I read it, hated it, shelved it. I couldn’t edit it. So I kept writing instead. What came out were just pages—flash fiction, prose, prose pretending to be poetry. That’s how I started.

Eventually, I read more poetry and wrote more poetry. And slowly, they started to look like real poems. They weren’t pretending anymore.

Q: Who or what continues to inspire your writing today, and how do you stay creatively fueled while balancing life as a mother?

A: Since Cairo was born, I haven’t been able to write. Not that I don’t want to, but I only have so many hands—and Cairo is a very active baby boy.

I haven’t given up. Sometimes, when he’s finally asleep, I write here and there. Nothing substantial. Not like before. To write like I used to, I need time to meander—to look out the window, think, wonder, linger… I’m not saying never again. I’m saying: maybe when Cairo needs me less.

Q: Your poems often feel deeply personal, yet they resonate universally. How do you approach vulnerability in your writing?

A: Sometimes the truth isn’t presentable, but I always strive to be honest. My approach is a sort of nonchalance. I don’t care if this sounds difficult—I’ll say it anyway. Because it feels real.

Living the words, one page at a time

Gutierrez isn’t chasing a muse—she’s living the story, moment by moment. On stage, on screen, or knee-deep in diapers and dreams, her voice stays raw, honest, and unapologetically her. “Some years are meant for writing, and some years are meant for living,” she says—and right now, she’s deep in the wild, beautiful chaos of motherhood. But if her past is any indication, the next chapter is one we won’t want to miss.

She dreams in chapters now—yearning to craft sweeping narratives that linger, with characters who live and breathe far beyond the final page.