Actor Shonagh Marie: ‘Coming into care as a teenager was a whole different kind of trauma’

Looking back now, it could seem like Shonagh Marie was always destined to be an actor. As a child growing up on “a pretty rough” council estate in West London, she starred in a number of school productions. “And I guess I was always a confident child – if someone forgot their lines or something, I would just improv,” she laughs. “Parents and teachers would say to my dad, ‘oh my gosh, have you considered the BRIT school?’” 

But the path to her acting career was far from simple. Marie, 27, today has credits in Sky fantasy drama Britannia and Harris Dickinson’s directorial debut Urchin, among others – but she had to navigate grief, trauma and the care system to get there. 

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Marie was raised alongside two older brothers by her father, having lost her mother aged just four. Her dad “did a cracking job,” Marie says, but struggled at times with the responsibility of single parenthood. In turn, she recalls, “my behaviour in school was a bit challenging, because I was angry about so many things”. 

Despite decent grades and a burgeoning sporting career – Marie was a British Champion weightlifter as a teenager – she was expelled from two secondary schools. In 2014, she was in the process of looking for a new school when her father died suddenly.  

“That was really tough,” she says now. “It was a big shock. Suddenly it was like, ‘what’s going to happen to us? Where are we going to go?’” 

For Marie, the answer was the care system. Her eldest brother had already left for university and her middle brother, who was 16, found himself in a “grey area” of adolescence, staying on in the family flat before becoming homeless and winding up in and out of prison.  

Marie, meanwhile, was placed with a local foster family who “were really, really lovely, but culturally completely different.” When parents’ evening rolled around, she told her foster mother that an aunt was attending, not wanting anyone to realise that she was in care.  

“My whole world had changed and erupted,” she says. “Coming into care as a teenager – that was a whole different kind of trauma.” 

Marie stayed in care for a year before transitioning into semi-independent living, in a hostel, at 16. She stopped weightlifting. “It was such a thing I shared with my dad,” she says. “When he died, that part of me and that love for sports kind of died too.”  

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In reconsidering her goals and how she wanted to spend her time, Marie’s mind returned to an old hobby: acting. With support from her key worker, she enrolled in an acting course at The Lyric Theatre, Hammersmith.  

“It was just a short course, but I thought, I actually really like this. It feels really good,” Marie says. When the course finished, she continued to spend her time around The Lyric, getting free chips from canteen staff and asking about further opportunities. It paid off.  

Marie enrolled in another programme and found herself one evening in the same room as a group visiting from The Big House theatre company. Founded by actor, writer and director Maggie Norris, following her extensive work with ex-offenders, The Big House supports young people leaving care to produce and act in theatre shows shaped by lived experience.  

The team encouraged Marie to come along, “and that was the start of a relationship with The Big House which I still have today,” she smiles.  

It took a while for Marie to feel comfortable, but with The Big House’s help, her perspective began to shift.  

“Being in an environment where there were a lot of people like me was a big, big change,” she says. “Everyone was so open and they wore their experiences like armour, while I hid mine away. It was healing. It was a safe space.” 

There were times when acting took a back seat as Marie worked to support herself and send money to her brother in prison. She took jobs in care work and retail.  

“But my heart was still always in acting,” she says. “Everyone was a character to me and that was just how I looked at things.”  

Working behind the till in an upmarket Sloane Square store, she would put on a different accent for every customer she served. A turning point came at 18 when Marie was given her own flat.  

“It was a big challenge for my mental health,” she recalls. “That gap between semi-independence and independence was huge and the support just wasn’t there. But I’d still go to bed every night and wake up every morning – and acting was still on my mind.” 

Marie returned to The Big House, asking if there was anything she could get involved in. The answer was Bullet Tongue, a new play about county lines drug dealing that dealt with issues of class, race and loss. Norris suggested Marie could play the main character.  

“When I did that play, I finally grieved. A lot of trauma I had gone through over the years came out in different ways because of the themes of the play,” she says.  

“I grew so much. It changed me as a person. For the first time I felt like it was an honour and a privilege to have gone through the things I’ve gone through and be able to stand there telling this story and saying, ‘I survived.’” 

Industry insiders who saw the play took note of Marie’s talents and, with Norris’s support, she signed to an agent.  

In the years since, Marie’s career has blossomed, with major credits under her belt and her biggest (still secret, for now) role to date expected to hit screens soon. There are still moments of imposter syndrome, but that is changing.  

“I’m finding that what makes me different is also what makes me amazing,” she says. 

Today, Marie is working on her own material, seeking funding for a short film and putting together another. She still visits The Big House regularly.   

“The industry is changing, and it still has a long way to go, but there are more directors who are keen to work with young people with no acting experience, because they want things to feel authentic and raw,” she says.  

“A lot of people still think you have to go through drama school, but if I had, I might not be as good – it might have stripped some of my authenticity away.” 

And for aspiring young actors from backgrounds similar to her own, Marie’s message is clear.  

“Your story is your superpower,” she says. “Use it in whatever way feels safe for you. Your experiences, your life, everything you’ve been through – it’s not a curse, it’s a gift.” 

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