Today we’d like to introduce you to Emily Perry.
Hi Emily, so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?
If you had asked me years ago who I thought I’d become, I would have painted a bit of a different picture than the life I’m living today.
And honestly, I’m glad I didn’t know how the story would unfold because I probably would have tried to go in a different direction.
Some dreams came true exactly the way I hoped they would. Others showed up in ways I never could have imagined. And a few are still unfolding. What surprises me most isn’t that my life looks different than I expected—it’s that I’m genuinely enjoying this version. Not because it’s been easy or everything has gone according to plan, but because every challenge, every detour, every relationship, every place I’ve lived, and every season of growth has shaped the person I’m becoming.
One of the biggest lessons life keeps teaching me is to loosen my grip and surrender even little more to the unknown.
I’ve learned to trust my curiosity. It feels a bit like following breadcrumbs through the woods. Sometimes the path is dark, sometimes it’s beautiful, and you can rarely see very far ahead. But there’s almost always another breadcrumb inviting the next step. Looking back, I can see that so many of the experiences that once felt completely unrelated were actually preparing me for everything that came next.
That trail has led me to some places I never could have predicted—including Eldoret, Kenya, where I’m answering these questions from today. I’m currently completing my clinical social work internship at a children’s home and local school. My days are spent providing trauma-informed counseling under clinical supervision, mentoring youth, facilitating groups, and learning alongside an incredible team of Kenyan social workers.
Because Kenya is eight to ten hours ahead of much of the United States, my evenings often begin just as my coaching clients back home are starting their day. A few nights each week, you’ll also find me logging into graduate classes at the University of Tennessee in the middle of the night… thank goodness for blue-light-blocking glasses and a strong cup of coffee.
But when I trace the breadcrumbs backward, this story doesn’t begin in Kenya.
It begins with a curious girl growing up in Birmingham, Alabama who was fascinated by people. I always wanted to understand why we think the way we do, why we love the way we do, what shapes us, and what helps us heal. I was equally captivated by beauty—not just outward beauty, but the beauty of meaningful conversations, creativity, travel, nature, and those moments that make you stop long enough to remember what really matters.
I started pursuing a psychology degree in 2005, convinced I’d eventually become a therapist. Life had other plans. An unexpected opportunity led me to cosmetology school, and what looked like a detour became a career in the beauty industry that lasted nearly two decades.
People love to joke that hairstylists are therapists, and after all those years behind the chair, I understand why. I had a front-row seat to people’s lives. Marriages and divorces. Births and losses. Career changes. Heartbreak. Reinvention. Ordinary Tuesdays. Looking back, I don’t see those years as time away from psychology at all. They became my first education in human behavior, relationships, resilience, and the extraordinary impact of helping someone feel genuinely seen.
Along the way, I fell in love with yoga, meditation, and breathwork. Those practices transformed the way I understood myself and eventually led me into teaching, coaching, retreats, and a much deeper curiosity about healing.
Ironically, coaching is what led me back to the dream I’d had all along.
The deeper I worked with people, the more I realized I wanted to combine everything I’d learned through coaching and holistic wellness with the clinical depth, ethics, and systems perspective of social work. Going back to school didn’t feel like starting over. It felt like coming home—only this time I brought many years of life experience with me.
One part of that journey that still surprises me is my love of bodybuilding. If you had told my younger self that I’d one day voluntarily walk across a stage in a bikini and five-inch heels in front of a panel of judges, I’d have thought you were absolutely out of your mind.
My relationship with my body continues to evolve. What once felt much more focused on appearance now feels rooted in appreciation for what my body is capable of and the discipline, resilience, and self-trust that grow alongside it.
Through some of the most uncertain seasons of my life—moving across the country (twice), navigating graduate school, and now living in Kenya—training has become one of the constants. It grounds me mentally, challenges me physically, and, somewhat surprisingly, nourishes me spiritually. It’s one of the places where I process, reconnect with myself, and remember that I don’t have everything figured out today. Some days, the next right thing is simply the next rep.
Later this year, I’ll begin preparing for my third competition, which still makes me smile because it’s one more thing my younger self never would have believed she’d have the courage or confidence to do, especially from a place of self-compassion and care rather than rigidity and control.
Every now and then I catch myself smiling and thinking, How did this actually become my life? It still feels a little (okay… a lot) surreal.
What’s interesting is that I’ve asked myself that same question before—but from a very different place.
There were seasons when I looked around at my life and asked, How did this become my life? with exhaustion, confusion, and the feeling that somehow I’d drifted far away from myself.
Today, I ask it with gratitude.
Looking back, I don’t think either version of my life happened overnight. They were both built through thousands of small, consistent choices. The difference wasn’t that one version of me cared more or tried harder. It was whether those choices were coming from fear or from trust… from trying to earn my worth or from believing I already had it… from becoming who I thought I needed to be or having the courage to become more fully myself.
That realization has changed everything.
Today, I have the privilege of doing work that feels deeply aligned with who I am—walking alongside people one-on-one, facilitating groups, teaching, speaking, and continuing to learn from people whose lives look very different from my own.
As I begin wrapping up this decade of my thirties, I’m realizing I haven’t become someone entirely different. I’ve simply become more myself.
I’m still curious.
Still asking questions.
Still following what feels meaningful.
Still trusting that the next step will reveal itself when it’s time.
And if there’s one thing I hope never changes, it’s my willingness to keep learning, keep evolving, and continue staying open to being surprised and enchanted by my own life.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
Definitely not. One of my dad’s favorite quotes, which he’s reminded me of for years, is, *”Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans.”* Looking back, I laugh because that pretty much sums up my journey.
For a long time, I thought the biggest obstacles in life would be external—finding the right career, making the right decisions, meeting the right person, following the “right” timeline. What I’ve realized is that many of my biggest obstacles were actually internal.
For years, I spent a lot of energy trying to fit into versions of myself that felt more acceptable, more predictable, or more likely to be understood. I worried about getting things “right,” disappointing people, making the wrong decision, or stepping too far outside the lines (which is honestly hilarious looking back because I’ve always been a bit of a weirdo who spent way too much energy pretending to be “normal”). Trying something new on my own felt terrifying, and I had a habit of looking outside myself for permission before trusting what I already knew inside.
Over time, that sloooooowly began to change.
Working in mental health hasn’t just taught me how to support other people—it has given me language for understanding experiences I’d been having for years without knowing how to describe them. Instead of trying to “fix” myself, I started getting curious. Curious about how my mind works, what I actually need to thrive, and why certain patterns keep showing up. (You mean I’m the common denominator in lots of my problems?! Excuseeee me… 😂)
And somewhere along the way, something magical happened: I stopped asking, *”How do I become who I think I’m supposed to be?”* and started asking, *”Who am I when I stop trying so hard to be who I think everyone else expects?”*
It turns out I didn’t need to become someone completely different. I needed to become more honest. More willing to let people see the quirky, curious, imperfect human underneath the masks I’d spent years clinging to. I needed to trust that my brain doesn’t have to work like everyone else’s to work well, and stop trying to force myself into a mold I was never meant to fit.
The external challenges have been real, too. I’ve changed careers, moved across the country several times, gone back to school, started over more than once, and now find myself living and learning in Africa—which is incredible and, of course, comes with its own challenges. None of those experiences feel like detours anymore. They feel like invitations to become a little more courageous, a little more compassionate… and a LOT more myself.
So no, it definitely hasn’t been a smooth road. But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that growth rarely comes from having life all figured out (at least it never has in my experience). It comes from staying curious, getting WAY outside your comfort zone, and taking the next step before you have the whole plan figured out.
Looking back, every meaningful chapter of my life started with a decision that scared me a little.
Every single one has been worth it 🙂
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
I love taking a deep dive into someone’s inner world.
I’m endlessly fascinated by people. By the stories we tell ourselves, the identities we build, the roles we step into, the ones we outgrow, and the parts of ourselves we slowly tuck away because somewhere along the way they stopped feeling safe to express.
The people I tend to work with are usually in one of those seasons where, on paper, life looks pretty good. They have the job, the relationship, the success, the degree, the house… whatever it is they once thought they wanted. But internally, something keeps whispering, This isn’t quite it. Or maybe it’s saying, I don’t even know who I am anymore.
I LOVE that space.
Not because it’s easy—it usually isn’t—but because it’s incredibly honest. It’s the messy middle. The space between who you’ve been and who you’re becoming. I think that’s one of the most courageous places a person can be.
If I had to boil my work down to one thing, I think what I really do is create space.
I know that probably sounds incredibly simple, but I actually think it’s becoming a bit of a lost art.
I create safe, supportive spaces where people can slow down enough to hear themselves again. Not the voice of fear. Not the voice of perfectionism. Not the voice of everyone else’s expectations. Their own voice.
Because here’s what I’ve noticed over and over again: people are rarely as disconnected from themselves as they think they are. More often, they’ve just gotten really good at talking over their own inner knowing & ignoring what their bodies have been trying to communicate with them, often for a very long time.
So we get curious.
We slow things down.
We listen.
I’ve always been interested in the relationship between our minds and our bodies. Our minds make meaning of our experiences, while our bodies carry them. If we only work with one and ignore the other, I think we miss a huge part of the story.
Every person is different, so every session is different. I draw from a variety of trauma-informed, somatic, mindfulness-based approaches, but I’m never attached to a particular technique. I’m much more interested in understanding the human being sitting across from me than I am in following a formula.
Sometimes it’s helping someone’s nervous system experience safety for the first time in years. Sometimes it’s asking one question that changes the way they see themselves. Sometimes it’s simply creating enough space for someone to realize they don’t have to keep pretending.
What I love most is that the work doesn’t stay in the room. It tends to ripple out into real-life experiences.
One day someone finally has the conversation they’ve been avoiding for years.
They leave the relationship they knew deep down wasn’t healthy.
They ask for the promotion.
They book the solo trip.
They make a big move.
They start the business.
They go back to school.
They set the boundary.
Or maybe the shift is much quieter. They stop apologizing for taking up space. They begin trusting themselves. They realize they don’t have to earn their worth anymore. They wake up one morning and notice they don’t feel like they’re swimming upstream.
Those are the moments that make me want to happy cry (and I often do).
Because at the end of the day, I don’t really care whether someone remembers the technique we used or the question I asked. I care that they leave trusting themselves a little more than when they walked in.
Because when that happens, life naturally begins to change. Relationships change. Careers change. Boundaries change. People start making decisions that actually reflect who they are instead of who they think they’re supposed to be.
I think that’s the thread that connects everything I do—whether I’m providing trauma-informed care, coaching, teaching yoga, facilitating a Breathwork session, leading a women’s circle, or hosting a retreat. It’s all interwoven.
My work is about helping people reconnect with themselves deeply enough that the life they build on the outside finally matches what’s been quietly evolving on the inside. And I am so proud that this work has chosen me in this lifetime.
What do you like and dislike about the city?
You know, I don’t think I fully appreciated growing up in the South until I spent almost a decade living on the West Coast.
I absolutely loved my years in San Diego, and they’ll always be part of who I am.
California expanded me in so many ways, challenged the way I saw the world, and gave me the freedom to explore parts of myself I don’t know that I would have discovered otherwise.
But moving to Nashville four years ago honestly felt like a homecoming.
One of my favorite things about Nashville is that people seem genuinely excited about each other’s ideas. There’s always live music somewhere, an amazing restaurant to try, a new business opening, or someone chasing a dream. It’s growing quickly, but it still feels approachable.
I’ve also been really lucky to find some of my favorite people there. Shakti Yoga will always hold a special place in my heart. It’s one of those places that shaped me in ways that extend far beyond the yoga itself, and I’m looking forward to getting back on my mat—and hopefully back to teaching—when I’m back in town.
And honestly… I think it’s the little things that make you fall in love with a city.
Walking Radnor Lake in the fall.
Summer thunderstorms.
An Elegy cold brew.
A long sauna session at Soho House.
Last-minute dinners with friends.
Being able to drive a couple of hours and hug my family.
And maybe this says everything you need to know about me, but I also get disproportionately excited every time BNA announces another international route. I love knowing I can build a life in Nashville while still being able to hop on a plane whenever curiosity calls.
Now… Nashville definitely isn’t perfect.
The traffic.
The driving.
The roads (6 flat tires in one year!?).
The endless construction.
The trains that somehow always seem to stop exactly when you’re in a hurry… and then don’t move for what feels like the next three business days.
I definitely miss having an ocean nearby, and tornado warnings still scare the absolute shit out of me every single time.
I’m also not much of a drinker, so the Broadway scene has never really been my thing. Although I have to admit… it does make for some incredible people-watching from time to time.
The funny thing is, I’m answering these questions from Kenya, and it’s reminded me that one of the greatest gifts of travel is that it teaches you to see familiar places with new eyes. I’m excited to come back, settle into the rhythms I love, and appreciate Nashville in a way I probably couldn’t have without leaving for a bit.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.emilymonette.com
- Instagram: https://instagram.com/emilymonetteperry
- Facebook: https://Facebook.com/emilymonettecoaching
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/emilymonetteperry/
- Youtube: https://YouTube.com/@unmasked_beauty
