Meet Donnie Berry of Larchmont Village

Today we’d like to introduce you to Donnie Berry.

Hi Donnie, we’re thrilled to have a chance to learn your story today. So, before we get into specifics, maybe you can briefly walk us through how you got to where you are today?
I grew up in Ocala, Florida — the “Horse Capital of the World” (and yes, we definitely claim that! 😂). Anytime I say I’m from Florida, people assume I mean Miami — but Ocala is practically Georgia. Lots of horse farms, pickup trucks, and a whole different kind of Southern life.

Growing up biracial in the rural South in the ’90s meant I was constantly straddling worlds — and it showed up early in my obsessions. One minute I wanted to be Michael Jackson, the next Garth Brooks. That unlikely combo kind of says it all. The mix of cultures, identities, and influences shaped not just my taste, but how I learned to move through the world.

I was raised by a single mom who lived with Type 1 diabetes. My uncle always said she was basically Shelby from Steel Magnolias — minus the big hair and the wedding. Watching her fight to survive made caregiving second nature to me, even as a kid, which is part of why nursing later felt like such a natural “default.”

When I was 11, I won a local competition, which led to getting a manager. At her recommendation, I shifted my focus to acting. Music and dance had always been huge parts of me too, but acting became the path I pursued most seriously — and looking back, I think part of my journey now is figuring out which dreams were truly mine and which ones I was nudged into.

My manager brought me — and some of her other clients — out to Los Angeles for pilot season for a few years. At first, acting was pure fun. But over time, the pressure crept in: “I have to make it big to save my mom and me.”

I had a lot of “almosts” — close calls but no major bookings — and I didn’t realize at the time that it wasn’t personal. By 15, my trips to LA stopped, and I stayed in Florida, trying to find a way back to the dream.

By 19, I pivoted into nursing — survival mode. It felt practical, familiar, and safe, especially after so many years of uncertainty chasing dreams.

I started working in healthcare in Florida, but when I was 23, my mom passed away. That loss cracked something wide open in me.

I moved to LA in my early 20s, thinking a new city would fix everything — but like they say in recovery, “wherever you go, there you are.”

I got swept up in LA life — chasing distractions, chasing validation — while carrying all the unhealed parts of myself.

It wasn’t until my Saturn Return, when I hit an undeniable emotional and spiritual bottom, that I realized something had to change. I got sober and began one of many rebuilds and rebrands of my life.

After treatment in Florida, I returned to LA and started from scratch. During that rebuilding phase, a fellow actor — someone who had found major success during the same years I was struggling — offered me the opportunity to work as their personal assistant. It was meant to be a supportive bridge back into stability and community — and for a while, it was. But being so close to the entertainment world without fully stepping into my own dreams stirred up a lot: gratitude, longing, and a growing awareness that I was still living on the edges of myself.

After that chapter ended, I defaulted back into nursing — something familiar, something steady. Very quickly, I worked my way into nursing management. On paper, I was doing everything “right” — great money, career milestones — but deep down, I knew I was still disconnected from something essential inside me.

That quiet tension eventually pushed me to ask the deeper question I’d been avoiding for years: “What am I doing?” It became too loud to ignore.

I eventually made the decision to leave my nursing job to give myself the space to figure it out — to reconnect with the part of me that had been buried under survival mode for so long.

Now, at 7.5 years sober, I’m finally reconnecting with that original self — the creative, hopeful, expressive kid who believed anything was possible. I launched my podcast, What Am I Doing?, as a way to explore this phase out loud: the messy, honest, beautiful process of figuring out how to build a life from the inside out.

We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
Definitely not a smooth road.

I think one of the biggest themes of my story is that from a very young age, I learned how to survive — but I didn’t really know how to live. I grew up caregiving, watching my mom battle a chronic illness, and somewhere along the way, I internalized the belief that it was my job to “fix” things, to take care of people, to keep everything afloat — even if it meant abandoning myself in the process.

Food was actually my first addiction. Before I ever picked up any substances, I was already using food to self-soothe, to cope, to try to manage feelings I didn’t know how to handle. I battled weight issues and body image struggles for as long as I can remember, and those patterns only deepened over time.

Alongside all of that, I was also grappling with questions about love, belonging, and my own self-worth. Figuring out my sexuality added another layer of complexity — especially growing up in the rural South, where being different wasn’t exactly celebrated. When I moved to LA in my early 20s, it was the first time I could really be openly gay — but that freedom also came with its own kind of chaos. I had spent so many years feeling “not enough” that when I finally had the space to explore who I was, I didn’t have the emotional tools to do it in a healthy way.

Losing my mom when I was 23 broke something wide open inside me. I didn’t have the skills yet to process that kind of grief, and I turned even harder to drugs, alcohol, food, and unhealthy relationships to try to cope. For a long time, I lived in survival mode — chasing distractions, chasing validation, chasing anything that could numb the ache of feeling like I had failed myself and the people I loved.

Even after I got sober, the road wasn’t magically smooth. I rebuilt my life from scratch — first financially, then professionally — but emotionally, there were still so many layers I hadn’t even touched yet. Body image struggles, perfectionism, caretaking patterns, complicated dynamics around intimacy and love — all of it followed me into early sobriety.

There were times when it felt like I was “doing everything right” on the outside — career promotions, financial stability — but still feeling completely lost inside.

I think one of the hardest lessons I’m still learning is that healing isn’t linear. There’s no finish line where everything clicks into place. It’s more like a series of small, messy choices to keep showing up for myself — even when it’s uncomfortable, even when it’s unclear, even when it feels like I should be “further along” by now.

I’m in a season now where I’m trying to make peace with the unknown — to trust that it’s okay to still be figuring it out. That’s a huge part of what inspired my podcast, What Am I Doing? — to create something honest about what it looks like to live inside the questions instead of pretending to have all the answers.

Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
Right now, one of my main creative focuses has been my podcast, What Am I Doing? — which honestly feels like the most personal and authentic thing I’ve ever created so far.

The podcast is really about exploring that messy, in-between space we don’t always talk about — the phase where you’re not quite who you used to be, but not quite where you’re going yet. It’s about rebuilding your life from the inside out, and learning to live inside the questions instead of pretending to have all the answers.

Honestly, a huge part of what inspired the podcast came from my own experiences with imposter syndrome. I’m someone who constantly catches myself looking at the curated version of other people’s lives and thinking, “Well damn, they have it all figured out. WHAT AM I DOING?”

Another part of my creative work — and my joy — has been dance. I’ve always loved movement, but because of body image issues, for years I believed I wasn’t “good enough” to dance. Zumba and dance cardio were how I first started reconnecting with my body in my early 20s — not as punishment, but as joy, energy, and fun. Movement helped me start rebuilding a healthier relationship with health and wellness, and it’s still a huge part of how I take care of myself today.

That said, I also learned the hard way about burnout. At one point, I was teaching so many classes, so intensely, that I started losing the joy that dancing had originally brought me. Now, part of my journey is finding a new way to weave dance, movement, and storytelling into my life — in a way that feels sustainable, expansive, and true.

I think what sets me apart is that I’m not interested in selling a polished version of healing or growth. I come from a background where survival was necessary, and success was defined by outward milestones — but what I’m passionate about now is honoring the full human experience: the triumphs, the grief, the doubt, the curiosity, the joy.

Whether it’s through podcasting, dancing, or future creative projects, my goal is to create spaces where people feel seen — especially the ones still figuring it out, still piecing themselves back together. Because honestly? That’s where the real magic happens.

What are your plans for the future?
Right now, I’m working on writing a script inspired by my life — something that weaves together a lot of the themes I’ve been living and exploring: addiction, recovery, identity, grief, humor, and hope.

I’ve been really inspired by shows like Insecure by Issa Rae and Sideswiped by Carly Craig — stories that manage to be raw, relatable, hilarious, and deeply human all at once. I’d love to create something in that spirit — something that captures both the chaos and the heart of trying to rebuild yourself from the inside out.

My dream is to not just write it, but to help produce it and act in it as well — to create the kind of layered, messy, authentic stories that I think we need more of in the world. Stories that show the in-between spaces, the gray areas, the moments where people are still trying to figure themselves out — because that’s real life.

I’m also continuing to explore how dance, movement, and storytelling can be part of my creative life in a way that feels sustainable and joyful. I don’t want to box myself into one lane — whether it’s podcasting, acting, dancing, writing — it all feels connected by the same thread: expression, healing, and connection.

Nursing will always be a part of me too. It’s shaped so much of how I see the world — the ability to show up for people, to hold space, to bring both structure and compassion into chaotic situations. I’m excited to see how I can continue to use those skills in ways that feel expansive, creative, and maybe even a little outside the traditional nursing world.

I’m in a phase where I’m giving myself permission to dream bigger, but also to let those dreams evolve as I evolve. I’m building a creative life that feels expansive, honest, and sustainable — something rooted in authenticity instead of survival mode.

For the first time maybe ever, I’m not rushing to figure it all out. I’m allowing myself to stay open, to explore, and to trust that the next right steps will keep unfolding — one day at a time — as I keep showing up for myself and my creativity.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.donnieberry.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/donnieberry/?hl=en
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/will.lockland/
• LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/donnieberry/
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@WhatAmIDoing.Podcast
• Other: https://www.zumba.com/en-US/p/donnie-berry/103888

Image Credits
Kyle Danaceau/Star-Banner