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Convincing conservative parents that dance is a career is one thing. Convincing them when one of the Arab world\u2019s most prestigious dance companies sees your potential is another. Before long, Yousra had earned a place at Caracalla Dance Theatre, the internationally acclaimed Lebanese company that has spent decades blending classical ballet with Middle Eastern storytelling. For a teenager who had trusted her instincts, it was the first sign that those instincts had been right all along.<\/p>\n
\u201cCaracalla changed everything,\u201d she reflects. \u201cWhat they do is extraordinary. Th ey take Lebanese folklore and blend it with the Martha Graham technique to create something entirely their own.\u201d Joining the company at just 14, Yousra was selected from its school to perform with the professional troupe, an opportunity that introduced her to the stage \u2013 and, before long, the world.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe toured China, Bahrain and performed at Expo Milano. I was still at school, trying to balance rehearsals, international tours and my exams. I\u2019ll always be grateful for my time there because that\u2019s what introduced me to performing. That\u2019s when I realised this is what I want to do with my life. I don\u2019t want to sit behind a desk\u2026 I want to travel, I want to dance, I want to meet new people and explore new cultures.\u201d<\/p>\n
At just 17, Yousra then left Lebanon for dance school in the French capital, trading Mediterranean summers for grey Parisian skies and the certainty of home for the uncertainty of reinvention. \u201cI knew I had no future there,\u201d she says of leaving Beirut. \u201cNothing could save me except that plane that was going to take me to Paris. It was take it or leave it.\u201d The transition wasn\u2019t seamless. Despite speaking fluent French, she found herself fighting to keep up with classmates who had trained within Europe\u2019s rigorous conservatoire system from childhood. There were moments she felt like an outsider, not just because of her technique, but because of where she came from. \u201cI had to fight for my spot. I had to fight for my dream from the very beginning, the moment I stepped foot in that school.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was there, almost by accident, that her career took another unexpected turn. A heels instructor suggested she had the look and presence for cabaret \u2013 a world Yousra knew almost nothing about. Curious, she persuaded her mother to spend a day touring Paris\u2019 legendary venues, from the Lido to the Moulin Rouge, before arriving at Crazy Horse. \u201cI fell in love,\u201d she beams. \u201cTh e lights, the bodies\u2026 something in me said, \u2018There\u2019s something here.\u2019\u201d An audition was taking place just days later. She applied, was invited in, and secured a place on her very first attempt. It was a watershed moment that would redefine not only her career, but how she was perceived back home. A subsequent interview on French television made headlines in Lebanon, prompting criticism from those who couldn\u2019t reconcile her conservative upbringing with one of Paris\u2019 most iconic stages. Yousra, characteristically, never looked back. \u201cI guess I stood my ground,\u201d she says. \u201cThis is happening. This is going to be my life now.\u201d<\/p>\n You may also know Yousra Mohsen as Laila Liberty, the name bestowed upon her before she ever stepped onto the Crazy Horse stage. Every dancer is given an alter ego moments before their debut, a name they don\u2019t choose themselves. \u201cRight before the curtain opens, the artistic director comes in and says, \u2018I have this name for you,\u2019\u201d she recalls. \u201cMine was Laila Liberty.\u201d She accepted without hesitation, only later discovering the alternative had been something along the lines of Scarlet Sunshine. She laughs. \u201cNo, I\u2019m definitely a Laila Liberty.\u201d<\/p>\n The name, she tells me, couldn\u2019t have been more fitting. Laila means \u2018night\u2019 in Arabic, while Liberty speaks for itself. Together, they describe not only the woman audiences came to know under the Parisian spotlights, but the version of Yousra she found there. \u201cI become a different person when I\u2019m on stage,\u201d she says. \u201cWhen you step into Crazy Horse and start doing your makeup \u2013 the big lashes, the body makeup, the wig, the costume \u2013 something changes.\u201d It isn\u2019t an escape from herself so much as an extension of her. Off stage, she\u2019s warm, chatty and infectiously curious; on it, Laila Liberty is fearless. For Yousra, the alter ego isn\u2019t about becoming someone else; it\u2019s about accessing a side of herself that the stage allows her to reveal.<\/p>\n The conversation naturally turns to women who, much like Yousra, have built careers by refusing to fit neatly into other people\u2019s expectations. The women who polarise opinion, who are celebrated and criticised in equal measure, often occupy the same uncomfortable space: publicly judged, yet privately more powerful than the narratives written about them. For Yousra, one such figure is Mia Khalifa \u2013 a comparison she received often after joining Crazy Horse, though not necessarily as the insult it was intended to be. \u201cI remember people comparing me to Mia Khalifa, and she\u2019s a multi-millionaire now,\u201d she says. \u201cI love Mia Khalifa. I used to tell them, \u2018Girl, I wish I was Mia Khalifa. She\u2019s amazing.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n It is a response that often surprises people, but Yousra sees the power in embracing the unexpected. \u201cWhen you say these things, people are like, \u2018What? Are you completely insane?\u2019\u201d she laughs. \u201cBut that\u2019s also part of who I am.\u201d For her, the point is not provocation for the sake of it, but refusing to let other people dictate which women are worthy of respect. She admires the way Khalifa has built a platform, stood by her beliefs and used her voice publicly, particularly in support of causes she believes in. \u201cShe\u2019s built an empire for herself \u2013 her social media presence, what she stands for. She\u2019s not afraid to stand for the Palestinian cause, for example, and neither am I.\u201d<\/p>\n That same instinct to challenge perceptions has shaped Yousra\u2019s own work. When she began teaching heels classes in Lebanon in 2018 and 2019, the style was still unfamiliar and often misunderstood. Today, many of the women she taught have gone on to teach internationally and create their own careers through the discipline. For Yousra, that is the real measure of change: not winning everyone over, but creating enough space for the next woman to step through.<\/p>\n As for what\u2019s next, Yousra is building more than one future. Alongside planning her dream wedding, she\u2019s also planning to continue working at Crazy Horse, as well as preparing for a move to Dubai, where she hopes to open a dance studio of her own \u2013 a space for the next generation of performers to train, create and, perhaps most importantly, feel seen.<\/p>\n Her engagement, fittingly, happened here in Sicily, where she and her fianc\u00e9 are now building their home from the ground up. After seven years together, she admits she\u2019d dropped more than a few hints. \u201cI was sending him Instagram Reels of cute engagements and rings,\u201d she laughs. \u201cI think he got the memo.\u201d Still, he managed to surprise her completely, convincing her they were shooting a campaign for a Sicilian guesthouse. \u201cHe told me they wanted me to wear white, so I did my nails, bought this beautiful dress in London and genuinely thought we were going to get paid.\u201d Instead, after a photographer asked her to turn towards the sun, she spun back around to find him on one knee. \u201cChristian is always so calm and composed, so when I saw him shaking, I knew something was happening. He was crying, I was crying \u2013 actually I completely lost it.\u201d<\/p>\n For now, though, the spotlight still calls. \u201cI\u2019m not ready to say goodbye to that stage just yet,\u201d she says. \u201cI\u2019m not ready to say goodbye to dance either. My body hurts. My back hurts, my knees hurt. But I just love the stage so much. I love the thrill of being in front of hundreds of people \u2013 or being on stage alone for six minutes at Crazy Horse, naked, free, dancing. I\u2019m not ready to leave that.\u201d<\/p>\n For a woman who has spent her life refusing to let other people define her story, it feels like exactly the ending you\u2019d expect: not a curtain call, but an intermission. As we say our goodbyes, she\u2019s already thinking ahead \u2013 to Dubai and Paris, to Lebanon and Sicily, to rehearsals, clients, and a wedding that, by her own admission, she\u2019s had little time to plan. It seems to be the only pace Yousra Mohsen knows: always building, always moving, and always on to the next act.<\/p>\n![\"GRAZIA](\"https:\/\/graziamagazine.com\/me\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/16\/2026\/09\/GZA_YOUSRA_MOHSEN_01_078.png\")
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