An Inspired Chat with Evalye Alexander of Atlanta

We recently had the chance to connect with Evalye Alexander and have shared our conversation below.

Good morning Evalye, it’s such a great way to kick off the day – I think our readers will love hearing your stories, experiences and about how you think about life and work. Let’s jump right in? What are you being called to do now, that you may have been afraid of before?
Thank you for such a thoughtful question. What I’m being called to do now is use my voice fully and without apology. For a long time, I was comfortable working behind the scenes, building programs, creating access, and supporting others quietly. That space felt safe. Stepping into visibility, sharing my story, and speaking openly about faith, hardship, grief, and mental health once felt vulnerable and risky.

What I’ve come to understand is that playing small doesn’t actually protect us; it only delays what we’re meant to do. I’m no longer afraid of being seen or misunderstood. If sharing my journey helps you feel less alone, or reminds you that healing and purpose can coexist, then this is a season I’m willing to step into with courage and grace.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m Evalye Alexander, and my life’s work is rooted in helping people find their footing when life has knocked them off balance. Much of what I build comes from personal experience, shaped by seasons of hardship, loss, and rebuilding. Those moments changed how I see people, systems, and purpose, and they guide how I show up in every space I lead.

My work focuses on creating real pathways to opportunity through education, workforce development, and community support, particularly for individuals who have been overlooked, underestimated, or locked out of traditional systems. I do not believe in quick fixes or surface-level solutions. I believe in meeting people where they are, restoring dignity, and building structures that actually hold them as they move forward.

Outside of work, I am a wife, mother, and proud HBCU graduate whose faith anchors everything I do. I believe healing and purpose can exist side by side, and that our hardest seasons do not disqualify us from meaningful impact. In this season, I am leaning into visibility, voice, and service in a deeper way, trusting that my story and my work can help others rise with courage and clarity.

Appreciate your sharing that. Let’s talk about your life, growing up and some of topics and learnings around that. What’s a moment that really shaped how you see the world?
The loss of my seven-year-old son reshaped everything about how I see the world. That season forced me to slow down in ways I never had before and to go deeper into my faith, not out of obligation, but out of necessity. I began to understand that strength and vulnerability are not opposites. They can exist in the same breath, in the same moment, in the same heart.

After my son’s death, instead of being consumed by grief, I was met with an overwhelming sense of peace. God gave me a clear and immediate vision that my son was with Him and that he was okay. That moment anchored me. It quieted my fear and allowed me to grieve without losing myself.

Through that season, I learned to hear God more clearly, to lean into surrender and obedience, and to trust Him even when the path did not make sense. I finally came to understand that I was designed to do hard things, not by my own strength, but through faith that carries me when I cannot carry myself.

What have been the defining wounds of your life—and how have you healed them?
The defining wounds of my life have come through grief and prolonged seasons of depression that, at times, brought me face to face with suicidality. These experiences did not arrive all at once or for the same reasons. They unfolded across different seasons of my life, shaped by pressure, emotional trauma, responsibility, and the quiet weight of always people pleasing.

My battles with depression and suicidal thoughts came in seasons when the accumulation of life, expectations, and unspoken pain became heavy. Those moments taught me how isolating it can feel to appear strong on the outside while quietly struggling on the inside. Healing required honesty, faith, and the courage to listen to what my spirit and mind truly needed. In that season, I learned that it was okay to ask for help through therapy, psychiatric care, and mental health medication.

Over time, I learned that healing is not about erasing wounds, but about allowing them to refine you. I learned to surrender control, to ask for help, and to trust God even when the path forward was unclear. Today, those wounds no longer define me, but they have deepened my compassion, strengthened my faith, and clarified my purpose. They remind me that life can be heavy, but it is still sacred and always worth choosing.

I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. What would your closest friends say really matters to you?
If you asked my closest friends what really matters to me, they would tell you that faith, integrity, and people sit at the center of everything I do. They know that I care deeply about how people are treated, especially when no one is watching. I value honesty, emotional safety, and creating spaces where people can be fully human without having to perform or pretend.

They would also say that family matters to me in a very real way. Being present, protecting peace, and building a life rooted in love and intention are non negotiables for me. I care about depth over appearance, purpose over pressure, and alignment over approval.

Above all, they would say that I am committed to growth and healing, not just for myself, but for others as well. What matters to me is living in a way that reflects my faith, honors my experiences, and leaves people better than I found them.

Okay, we’ve made it essentially to the end. One last question before you go. If you laid down your name, role, and possessions—what would remain?
If I laid down my name, my roles, and everything I’ve built, what would remain is how people felt in my presence. What would remain is whether someone felt seen when they felt invisible, supported when they were tired, or reminded of their worth when they had forgotten it themselves.

What would remain is my obedience to purpose, not perfection. The way I chose compassion over convenience, truth over comfort, and faith over fear. It would be the lives touched, the doors opened, and the moments where someone realized they were capable of more than they believed.

At the end of it all, I hope what remains is evidence that I loved deeply, served faithfully, and lived in alignment with what God called me to do. Not a title or a resume, but a legacy of healing, courage, and people who rose because they were reminded they could.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.coacservices.com
• Instagram: evalye.alexander