It’s been a long time coming for actress Xiang Yun. At 16, she joined Mediacorp as an artiste trainee. Young as she was, it was hardly a rash decision. Her father stood unwaveringly behind her, having dreamt of being a star himself. In 1981, when she was 19 years old, she signed a full-term contract with Mediacorp, joining the inaugural batch of locally trained artistes. Coming from a cash- strapped household, she saw it as a way to make ends meet. Little did she know it would become an enduring first love.
It was only upwards from there for the now veteran actress. At 23, Xiang Yun’s breakout role as Ah Mei in the 1984 period drama The Awakening saw her star as Huang Wenyong’s love interest. The on-screen pair quickly became a crowd favourite, earning the two numerous accolades. On the set of police series Patrol, the 28-year-old met fellow actor Edmund Chen and the rest was history.
The new millennium only further cemented her status as a star, with her appearances in some of Singapore’s most culturally significant productions: playing Mrs Liu in I Not Stupid and tackling dual roles in The Little Nyonya. At the annual Star Awards, Xiang Yun rarely left empty-handed, taking home trophies in the Top 10 Most Popular Female Artistes and All-Time Favourite Award categories. It’s clear to see why she’s Mediacorp’s ah jie (big sister).
Xiang Yun was 30 years old when she unknowingly entered one of the most transformative chapters of her career and life. Pregnant with her first child, Chen Xi, what should’ve been one of the most joyous moments in her life was overshadowed by the unforgiving realities of the industry.
She points to what she describes as a prevailing industry attitude towards pregnancy at the time. According to Xiang Yun, actresses who became pregnant often found their workloads reduced, with some eventually leaving the industry.
Xiang Yun watched those around her face an abrupt end to their career simply for choosing to have a family. The drastic workplace changes left a shock that settled deep. Pregnancy, in turn, became a distinctly painful and unhappy process. She recalls the worries that played in her head in the months leading up to her due date. “I was afraid that my work would be affected after becoming a mother and that I wouldn’t get my roles. Back then, if you didn’t get roles after your first child, the only path was [to be] a dubbing actor.”
Nevertheless, these qualms didn’t stop Xiang Yun from looking forward to becoming a mother for the first time. She stepped away from the spotlight after giving birth, spending time with her newborn. “I stayed home for many years, acting very little, for maybe six to eight years,” she recalls.
At 36, one thing was sure: things had changed. “I felt so different when I came back to acting after having Chen Xi. I used to have more lead roles, but coming back, I was doing way more supporting roles.” It was a quiet season for the actress, if anything. But a silver lining gleamed through.
“During the lull, I felt that I could finally see myself clearly. Because I had the luxury of time, I learnt how to really live. It made me realise just how much I loved acting and how much I wanted to be a part of the entertainment industry,” she shares.
At 39, she became pregnant with her second child, Chen Yixin. Having gradually returned to work after her first pregnancy, she found that the next chapter of her career unfolded differently than she had anticipated. The period that followed, she recalls, was one of uncertainty and reflection.
Xiang Yun was not alone in this. Across the industry, having children was seen as a career liability. As an actor, pregnancy is a high-risk decision to make. Many of her contemporaries quietly stepped away after giving birth, well aware that motherhood changes a woman’s body completely and that the audience’s perception could shift just as irrevocably. And yet, she held her ground. Xiang Yun was determined to start a family of her own.
It seemed, for a moment, like a dead end. But a breakthrough came through the kindness of those around her. She met a benefactor, Chen Shucheng, who ran a local variety show. Chen graciously offered her the luxury of time to rest and recover. “He told me to let him know once I was ready [to work again]. He was very kind and wrote a short play for me to star in,” she recalls. It was official: Xiang Yun had returned.
But the cost of it all lingered quietly. “As a mother, I feel like I owe a lot to my children for not giving them the time they deserve,” she reflects. “I went back to work right after giving birth, so I got very busy again very quickly. In some sense, I’d say this was my biggest regret. But I couldn’t help it. At the end of the day, acting is still my life’s blood.”
“I’m grateful to be at an age where
life experience has become part of my craft.
You don’t know how to tell stories for a
mature audience until you become one yourself.”
Now at 64, Xiang Yun’s spark has yet to dim. Four decades on, the entertainment industry has faced a significant shift, led by social media and accelerated by AI. This new age of entertainment grows less familiar for those who’ve spent their lives in it. But Xiang Yun finds herself adapting with openness.
She is eager to work with the next generation of actors, and finds energy from the fresh exchange of ideas and knowledge. It is an intergenerational divide for some, but untapped potential for the actress. “I’m really grateful to be at this age where I’m able to tap into my vast life experiences to bring my roles to life. You don’t know how to write stories for an older, mature audience unless you’re one yourself,” she reflects.
Life takes a turn when you get older; age brings a different sense of clarity. “You don’t know which day is your last day. I think to myself, will I get up tomorrow? Will I wake up?” That candid perspective has led Xiang Yun to choose a slower life. When asked what her hopes for the future are, she responds with a wish to be more forgiving of herself.
“I think I no longer obsess. Before this, I used to hold myself to a very harsh high standard, where I’d put my team’s needs over my own. But now, I feel I must be kind to myself and allow myself to rest. At this age, your health is different and your body’s condition changes. I think this reminds me that it’s all really okay.”
A slower pace, though, does not mean to stop entirely. “I tell myself that entertainment is something that humans always need,” she remarks, and so as long as the cameras are still rolling, you would best believe Xiang Yun will be in front of them.
Photography Darren Gabriel Leow
Styling Desmond Lim
Hair Calvin Gan
Make-up Andy Lee
Stylist’s assistants Lance Aeron and Anis Nabilah
The July/August 2026 ‘Audacity’ edition of Vogue Singapore will be available online and on newsstands from 27 July.
