We recently connected with Briana Boyd and have shared our conversation below.

Briana, appreciate you joining us today. Do you think your parents have had a meaningful impact on you and your journey?

My mother is the strongest person I know—not one of the strongest, but the strongest. My father passed away suddenly a month after my first birthday, a traumatic and defining moment for both me and my mother. Amid her grief, she moved back to Brooklyn, NY, and enrolled in law school, eventually becoming an attorney. She has been in private practice for most of my life. Despite the challenges she faced, my mother has always prioritized my protection, and I’m deeply grateful for that. Even during periods when she was less available—while navigating the demands of law school and preparing for the bar exam—she ensured I was cared for by my grandmother, who watched over me with immense love.

My mother is a Capricorn attorney who thrives in conversations about business, entrepreneurship, and independence. She truly believes I am capable of anything, and she worked hard to prepare me for the world—a world that can often be challenging. I’ve struggled with severe depression from a young age, but my mother always validated my experiences and ensured I had access to some level of mental health care. At a time when mental health wasn’t widely discussed, I was fortunate not to have my pain dismissed.

Thanks to her unwavering support and the values she instilled in me, I earned two degrees and carved out a career in the fast-paced, often cutthroat, and toxic music industry. Each of these accomplishments was hard-earned, often while battling my own struggles, but her belief in my abilities and her preparation for the challenges I’d face gave me the resilience to succeed.

My mother is easily excitable and deeply hopeful. Though she can come across as tough, she’s also incredibly forgiving, loves children, and has always been my rock. I know she will always be there for me, no matter what.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

I am a certified peer support specialist and the founder of Insula Collective, a peer-led mental health initiative offering accessible support groups for the BIPOC community. Since April 2024, I have independently facilitated over 40 groups. Prior to founding Insula Collective, I worked full-time in the music industry.

Grief isn’t just about the loss of a loved one—it’s the emotional and sometimes physical process of navigating various forms of loss: loss of a person, an idea, a career, a job, or even a love. While my journey in the music industry has included moments of loss, I am deeply grateful to still be connected to it, albeit from a different perspective. Recently, I began working with an artist named LIVt, thanks to an introduction by Carolyn Ortiz, the co-founder of Big.Ass.Kids (B.A.K.), a creative ecosystem fostering freelance artist services and collaboration. Working with artists has always been a passion of mine, and supporting an incredibly talented, intersectional artist like LIVt has been deeply rewarding.

I’ve lived in Los Angeles for four years, and this city has taught me countless lessons. It has been a place of sweetness, connection, and collaboration. I cherish the conversations from our Monday night groups at Junior High in Glendale, the belief Eden and the team at Junior High had in my vision, and the support and encouragement from Mandy, the owner of POT LA, during the challenges of early business ownership and community work. Their kindness truly meant the world to me.

L.A. has also been the backdrop for significant personal growth, including navigating a divorce and other challenges that taught me resilience. At the end of this year, I will be moving back home to Brooklyn, NY. I plan on continuing work in the mental health field and am pursuing pathways in which I can be more impactful. I plan to continue growing Insula Collective and working to create accessible, affirming, and inclusive mental health support groups for underserved communities. I also hope to publish a book in the future.

Ultimately, I feel it is my purpose to honor the legacy of my father and advocate for suicide prevention, mental health support, and empathy for everyday people navigating scarcity, challenges, and the complexities of life.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

I used to believe that ego was inherently a bad thing. I thought figuratively “killing my ego” was the path to personal growth. To me, it seemed narcissistic and often led to less-than-ideal decision-making. However, as I’ve grown older, I’ve come to understand that ego is simply how we see ourselves—it’s the protector of our self-perception. I’ve realized that I need my ego, but it’s essential to keep it in check.

I’m deeply committed to challenging myself. I consistently examine my emotional responses, how I view situations, and traits like entitlement or selfishness. When I experience a strong emotion, I aim to approach it with curiosity and without judgment. At times, my ego gets triggered, and I have to remain open to seeing things from a different perspective.

Being an independent peer support specialist comes with its own set of challenges. Starting something new—a business, a club, or an initiative—requires resilience. There are times when turnout isn’t what I hoped for, or I don’t meet my goals. Running Insula Collective has taught me the importance of self-awareness and the need to regulate my expectations. When outcomes differ from what I envisioned, I’ve learned to adapt, recalibrate, and continue moving forward. It’s a mix of emotions – feeling a bit discouraged and then the sudden comfort of getting a DM from someone who said they were inspired or simply got a lot out of one of my groups.

What do you think helped you build your reputation within your market?

Feeling dismissed has been a recurring theme in my life. I believe we often unintentionally use language that minimizes someone’s struggles or pain. While I’m far from perfect, I do feel confident in my abilities. Being a good peer support specialist or facilitator requires more than just training—it demands interpersonal skills and an intuitive ability to read the room, which often can’t be taught.

In my current work, I’ve realized I was practicing these same skills during my time in the music industry. Whether blending into a crowded backstage greenroom or meeting a well-known artist and earning their trust, I learned the importance of respecting people’s boundaries and energy. I’ve carried that same approach into my role today.

I make a conscious effort not to respond to someone’s pain with empty phrases like, “That sucks, hope it gets better,” without meaningful follow-up. Instead, I hold space for others. I believe this is a significant reason why Insula Collective has grown from an idea into what it is now. People regularly attend, and newcomers are willing to try something new that can sometimes seem a bit scary or vulnerable.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://insulacollective.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/insulacollective
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/brianapearlboyd