Nadine Njeim; mother, actress, entrepreneur, survivor. For more than two decades, the world has tried to define Nadine Njeim through a single lens. But she was never meant to fit into one box. Like particles forming one molecule, every version of her exists as part of something far more complex. And now, as she steps into one of her boldest roles yet in the highly anticipated series Momken, Nadine enters a new chapter entirely: her unapologetic “I don’t care” era…
“I don’t feel as strong as people perceive me.” It’s not the sentence you expect to hear from Nadine Njeim.
Not from a woman whose image has become almost synonymous with strength across the Arab world. For more than two decades, audiences have watched the Lebanese Tunisian actress command Ramadan screens, survive public heartbreaks, build a beauty empire, endure unimaginable trauma and still emerge impossibly composed under the spotlight. Nadine, at least from the outside, has always seemed untouchable.
And yet, the woman speaking to me over Zoom sounds far removed from the polished mythology people have created around her. She’s warm, reflective, funny in a self-aware way, and perhaps most surprisingly of all, deeply conscious of the gap between who people think she is and who she actually feels herself to be.
“I’m very sensitive,” she continues. “I feel things deeply… and sometimes I allow my good heart to win over logic. But I have strong determination… I get through hardships and I always cross to the other side stronger than ever.”
There’s a deep silence after she says it, as though she’s aware it contradicts the image so many people project onto her. But that contradiction quickly becomes clear as precisely what defines Nadine today. She is calm and guarded, feminine and fiercely resilient, and completely unbothered by the world around her.
And perhaps that’s why people remain so fascinated by her. Because while Nadine has spent years being looked at, very few people have actually understood her.
The public version of Nadine has always been easy to package: former Miss Lebanon, beauty icon, television superstar. The glamorous woman photographed front row at fashion week or stepping onto red carpets in couture. But speaking to her now, what emerges instead is someone who has spent the better part of her life trying to protect the parts of herself the world never sees.
“I think people get intimidated by me before they know me,” she says. “They think I’m difficult to approach or unreachable, but it’s really not true at all. Once people speak to me, they’re surprised.”
It’s an irony not lost on her. The very confidence that helped her survive this industry has also, in some ways, isolated her from people, particularly men. For Nadine, independence was never about rejecting partnership. If anything, she seems to long for the opposite: emotional safety, equality, softness. What exhausted her, she explains, were the men who entered her life wanting to either play the saviour or see her as a challenge. But she can easily spot them. “I can smell their ego,” she shrugs.
“Some men misunderstand my independence and strength. They assume I don’t need anyone. Some even search for my flaws so they feel more powerful. They come in trying to play the saviour,” she says. She pauses briefly before adding, “but I don’t need to be saved… I need a partner.”
It’s striking how often she returns to the idea of perception throughout our conversation: the assumptions people make about successful women, the way beauty can distort vulnerability.
“People see the success, the spotlight, the strong woman,” she says. “Nobody knows what I went through to become who I am today. I know my flaws, but I also know my worth, and I know I am more than enough. Nobody has the right to judge me.”
And Nadine has gone through more than most. There is a moment in the conversation where the energy subtly shifts. We begin talking about beauty, a subject intrinsically tied to her identity since winning Miss Lebanon in 2004, but almost immediately the conversation moves somewhere deeper, towards the Beirut Port explosion in 2020, when Nadine suffered severe facial injuries and underwent multiple surgeries following the blast.
Even now, years later, she speaks about it with the clarity of someone whose priorities were permanently rearranged by survival. “It took me years to heal properly again,” she says quietly. “After something like that, beauty changes meaning.”
Before the explosion, she describes herself as intensely perfectionistic, the kind of woman who noticed every flaw, every small imperfection. Frequent dermatologist appointments. Endless maintenance. Chasing an impossible standard of flawlessness that women, particularly beautiful women, are often expected to maintain indefinitely.
“Not anymore,” she says. “When you almost lose your life, you stop sweating the small things. You rethink everything. Even beauty takes a back seat. Without life, beauty means nothing.” Today, she speaks about beauty from a different lens. “I see myself as more beautiful when I’m in a good mood. Inner peace always shows in your skin, your eyes, your energy.”
Aging does not scare her, at least for the time being. “With the growth and medical advancements in longevity treatments, I think the future is promising to maintain a healthy appearance. Until now, I am taking care of myself. I am keeping an eye on peptides, oxygen therapies and many other longevity treatments that are delaying aging,” she adds. “Being beautiful for me is being unique,” she explains. “It’s about having your own identity, not looking like everybody else.”
In many ways, that philosophy became the foundation of her beauty brand, which launched in 2024 and quickly expanded across major retailers. Unlike many celebrity ventures, Nadine speaks about the company less like a side project and more like a deeply personal extension of herself. “It’s one of my babies,” she says, smiling.
And she means it. Nadine was involved in every detail, from formulas to textures to branding, approaching the process with the obsessiveness of a founder rather than the detachment of a celebrity face attached to packaging.
Her fascination with beauty began long before fame. At nine years old, she would stand beside her mother watching her apply makeup, mesmerised by lipsticks, mascara and traditional Arabic kohl. By 16, she was already taking professional make-up courses and impressing instructors with her technical understanding of layering and foundation.
“I didn’t create products just for people,” she says. “I created clean products I personally want to use first, for me and for my daughter.”
Nadine is a hard worker. It is 9pm; she has just flown from Cannes to Beirut and is still in the office going through final details as she prepares for a major beauty launch. She’s driven and remarkably business-minded, speaking to me about company valuation and expansion plans. She even stepped back from major acting commitments at certain points to focus entirely on growing the company, which, considering her dominance on television, was not a small decision.
She began her acting career in 2009, but since her breakout role in Law (What If) in 2014, Nadine has become one of the defining faces of female-led Arabic drama. She went on to cement her status with standout performances in Cello (2015), Samra (2016), Al Hayba (2017), Khamsa W Nos (2019), 2020 (2021), and Salon Zahra (2021). There was a time when regional audiences waited primarily for male stars during Ramadan season. Today, many simply wait for the next Nadine series.
Still, she’s reluctant to romanticise her own impact. “I think when people love an actor, they become attached to them emotionally and start calling the project by their name,” she says modestly. “The same way I say, ‘I’m going to watch Angelina Jolie’s new movie.’”
After a two-year hiatus, she prepares for a strong comeback with her new romantic thriller series Momken, opposite Tunisian actor Dhafer L’Abidine, which is already generating intense discussion online after the trailer dropped for its bold nature and themes around perception, judgement, and how women are viewed socially. The role pushed her outside her comfort zone precisely because the character felt so unlike herself. “That’s what excited me about the character,” she says. “She doesn’t resemble me at all.”
As for her relationship with social media, it has changed dramatically over the years. Few Arab celebrities experience the level of scrutiny she does. Every outfit, appearance, interview, or rumoured relationship becomes instant discourse. But rather than disappear entirely, Nadine has learned to curate her digital world with almost clinical precision. “I cleansed my social media to protect my energy,” she says.
She now keeps a private account for close friends and family while using her public page more for business. At one point during our conversation, she opens her phone and shows me her Instagram explore page: wellness content, psychology clips, make-up, motivational pages. No gossip. No negativity. “Today, my algorithm reflects my aura – clean, calm, and protected,” she says, smiling. “Why would I fill it with things that drain me?”
It sounds simple in theory, but Nadine admits it took years to reach this mindset. “I used to get triggered easily because I’m sensitive and I trust people quickly,” she says. “I always wanted to fix situations, save people from negativity… but then you realise you cannot change people who don’t want to change.”
There’s one story she tells that lingers long after the conversation ends. Recently, during a night out in Beirut, several women approached her warmly in the bathroom of a restaurant, complimenting her appearance and asking for photos. Moments later, the bathroom attendant quietly informed her that the same group had immediately started criticising her once she walked away. Nadine smiles when she recalls it. “I couldn’t be bothered. I interacted politely with them and acted by my values. What they say behind my back belongs to them, not me.”
That sentence, more than anything else she says, feels representative of where Nadine is emotionally today. There’s a quiet detachment to her now. Not indifference. Just peace. “I’m in my ‘I don’t care’ era. Take it or leave it, this is me. No negative comment can bring me down, and no compliment can lift me too high. I know my self-worth.”
Even her latest Cannes Film Festival appearance, which sent social media into a frenzy over her stunning look in a Giorgio Armani dress and Marli’s exclusive Darling set, barely seemed to register as noise to her. She is not in need of validation from strangers online.“I went to the festival; it was such a lovely experience. I enjoyed it. I loved my look, it was 10 out of 10,” she laughs. “And that was it.”
By the end of our conversation, I realise the most interesting thing about Nadine Njeim isn’t her beauty, fame, or even success. After years of being consumed by public opinion, she has finally arrived somewhere much rarer: acceptance. She knows exactly who she is – her worth, flaws, sensitivity, ambition, the strength people see and the vulnerability they don’t. And perhaps that’s why, for the first time in a long time, she genuinely seems in her own “I don’t care” era.
Lead Image Credit: Chance Necklace in White Gold with Diamonds and Black Onyx; Chance Bangle in White Gold with Diamonds and Black Onyx; Chance Ring in White Gold with Diamond and Black Onyx, POA, all Marli High Jewellery Dress, Dhs7,715, Gaby Charbachy Couture
Photography by Álvaro Gracia: Styling by Mickael Carpin: Talent Stylist: Bilal Fakih. Make-Up: Raffaele Romagnoli. Hair: Ryoji Imaizumi at B Agency. Nails: Nafissa Djabi at B Agency. Executive Producer: Steff Hawker. Production: Jean-Marc Mondelet. Styling Assistant:Thibault Romain. Make-Up Assistant: Gabriel Leggieri
From the Harper’s Bazaar Arabia June 2026 issue