Meet Tiffany Davis

We recently connected with Tiffany Davis and have shared our conversation below.

Tiffany, thanks so much for taking the time to share your insights and lessons with us today. We’re particularly interested in hearing about how you became such a resilient person. Where do you get your resilience from?

My resilience wasn’t built in one moment — it came from a lifetime of learning how to keep moving, even when life didn’t make it easy. Growing up, my sister and I spent a lot of time fending for ourselves while my mom worked to keep us afloat. I learned early that if something needed to get done, I had to be the one to do it. That mindset — that movement creates opportunity — never left me. I’ve carried it into every season of my life, and it shaped the way I navigate challenge, uncertainty, and growth.

Years later, when a cardiologist told me I had three years or less to live, my first thought was, “Then let’s end this now — why wait?” It was a moment of shock and devastation, a moment where everything felt suspended. But immediately after that came something deeper, older, and louder: the part of me that has always loved proving people wrong. That small spark is what I held onto when everything else felt like it was slipping away. It pushed me through years of rationing my energy just to breathe or walk, years of being blamed for my own health challenges, and years of feeling unheard by doctors and misunderstood by the people closest to me.

Surviving that period didn’t make me hard — it made me discerning. It taught me the difference between the people who stand with you and the people who only stand near you. It gave me empathy for those who suffer quietly and boundaries with those who don’t understand the cost of simply functioning. Those years also forced me to understand myself differently: not as someone who is fragile, but as someone who knows how to adapt at a level most people will never have to.

I’ve also carried grief that reshaped my world — losing my best friend, the one person who listened without judgment, who showed up without needing an invitation, who created a space where I could exist without performing or protecting myself. Losing him was losing a kind of emotional gravity. Then losing my dog, who was woven into every part of my routine and emotional life, shifted the rhythm of my days in ways I didn’t expect. He followed me everywhere, slept by me, showed up beside me without fail — and when he was gone, it was as if the background hum of my life fell silent. Those losses removed the places where I used to rest, so I had to learn how to anchor myself.

This year required a different kind of resilience. After losing my job, I had to build a publication from absolute nothing — selling a product that didn’t exist yet, without a neighboring franchise to lean on, while taking multiple jobs just to stay afloat. I wasn’t rebuilding; I was starting from scratch with no map and no safety net. Every day I woke up with the same thought: “I don’t want to do this.” And every day, I did it anyway. Not out of excitement, not out of confidence — but out of commitment, responsibility, and the belief that if I kept moving, eventually something had to shift.

Working for nine months while selling a publication that did not yet exist required a level of vision, grit, and endurance that is difficult to describe. I often questioned myself: Why am I doing this? Will any of this matter? Am I even capable of pulling this off? But the same force that carried me through sickness, grief, and isolation carried me again here — the force that knows stillness is not an option for me. If I move, life responds. If I stop, everything stops.

Resilience, for me, isn’t loud. It doesn’t show up as a speech or a triumphant moment. It’s the quiet structure I create every day. I write a to-do list every morning to ground myself. I do my devotional reading to realign my mindset and remind myself that the universe works in laws, not chaos. I invest 1–2 hours into my business after hours, no matter how drained I am. Those small, repeated actions are the backbone of my strength. They are the rituals that keep me centered and moving forward, even when motivation is absent.

And even when my energy is low, I still show up for the community — listening without judgment, giving space for people to release what they’re carrying, and hosting free bingo nights that cost me time and money but give the community connection. When I watch nonprofits engage with people who normally walk through life unseen, when I see strangers laugh together or start conversations that would not have existed without that space, it reminds me why I keep moving. It reminds me that resilience is not just personal — it’s something that ripples outward.

Where do I get my resilience from?
From motion. From discipline. From surviving things I was told I wouldn’t survive. From losing everything I leaned on and learning to rebuild from the ground up. From daily choices that don’t always feel heroic but accumulate into strength. From the belief that even the quiet, unseen efforts matter.

Most of all, I get it from understanding that resilience isn’t about feeling positive — it’s about continuing anyway. And somehow, despite everything, I always do.

Great, so let’s take a few minutes and cover your story. What should folks know about you and what you do?

Today, I serve Knoxville as the publisher of BeLocal of Knoxville, a community-driven welcome guide designed to help new movers feel grounded, connected, and supported as they build a life here. But what I love most about what I do is that it has grown into something much bigger than a publication. It has become a resource for the entire city — a bridge that connects people to local businesses, nonprofits, community events, and to each other.

For me, BeLocal isn’t a business that exists for me. It’s a platform that exists for the people of Knoxville. Everything about it is built with intention: highlighting trusted local businesses, uplifting small organizations that make the city better, and giving new residents a sense of belonging from the moment they arrive. I want people to feel like they already have a friend in the city before they’ve even unpacked.

Alongside the publication, I also run BeLocal Bingo, a free community initiative that brings people together three times a month. It isn’t just a fun night out — it’s a space where neighbors meet, nonprofits engage with new audiences, and people who might never cross paths get the chance to connect. I fund the events myself because I believe in what they create: laughter, connection, community energy, and opportunities for local organizations to share the work they’re doing. Watching nonprofits interact with attendees — seeing people walk over afterward to ask questions or offer support — is one of the most meaningful parts of what I do.

I also serve with CONTACT Care Line, working directly with outreach efforts that support mental health, crisis prevention, and community education. Whether it’s helping build partnerships, amplifying resources, or showing up where I’m needed, I see this work as an extension of the same mission: helping people feel seen, heard, supported, and connected.

What excites me most is that all of these pieces — BeLocal, bingo, outreach, partnerships — fit together to form a larger purpose. Knoxville is a growing city, and people arrive every day looking for direction, community, and a sense of belonging. I get to play a small part in helping them find their place here, and in helping the organizations and businesses that give Knoxville its character reach the people who need them.

Everything I do is rooted in the belief that connection changes communities. I’ve seen firsthand how a conversation can shift someone’s day, how a small business can transform a neighborhood, and how a nonprofit can change a life. Being able to facilitate those connections — quietly, consistently, and with intention — is what makes my work meaningful. And it’s what keeps me excited for where Knoxville is headed next.

If you had to pick three qualities that are most important to develop, which three would you say matter most?

1. The ability to self-regulate when life doesn’t slow down.
There were seasons where my health was failing, seasons of deep grief, and seasons where I felt completely alone in what I was carrying. I had to learn how to regulate my own emotions, energy, and mindset because there was no one who could do it for me. That ability — to pause, breathe, ground myself, and take the next step — has carried me through everything.

Advice:
Develop a routine that stabilizes you, especially on the days you don’t want to do anything. Whether it’s journaling, devotional reading, to-do lists, or simply taking five minutes of stillness, find something that recenters you. Emotional discipline will take you farther than motivation ever will.

2. The willingness to move even when you don’t have the full picture.
Movement has always been my teacher. Every time I’ve taken a step — even when I didn’t have the confidence, resources, or answers — something shifted. I built a publication from nothing but belief and consistency. I launched community initiatives without knowing if anyone would show up. I rebuilt my life after losing almost everything. The common thread was motion.

Advice:
Don’t wait to feel ready. Start with what you have, where you are. Clarity comes from movement, not planning. You learn the next step by taking the first one.

3. The ability to listen without judgment.
I developed this skill over 20 years of leadership and coaching employees. Guiding teams taught me that everyone carries pressures, fears, and private battles that impact how they show up. When I learned to listen without judgment — not to correct, but to understand — I became more effective as a leader and more connected as a human being. This skill has carried into my community work, my partnerships, and the way I hold space for people today.

Advice:
Learn to listen to understand, not respond. Pay attention to what people mean, not just what they say. When you practice judgment-free listening, you become someone others trust — and trust is the foundation of influence, leadership, and meaningful community impact.

What has been your biggest area of growth or improvement in the past 12 months?

The past 12 months have forced me to grow in ways I hadn’t anticipated. Professionally, I had to start completely from scratch. Even though I had years of leadership experience and the skill set to run a business, stepping into full entrepreneurship is a different world. There’s no manual, no structure waiting for you, no familiar rhythm to fall back on. I had to create — and am still creating — a new routine that supports this version of my life. I had to build systems, discipline, consistency, and self-direction in real time while building a publication that didn’t yet exist.

The magazine itself has been one of my biggest accomplishments this year. Taking something that was only an idea and turning it into a physical, distributed community resource was a learning curve, a test of endurance, and a milestone I’m proud of. I wasn’t just managing a publication; I was building it from the ground up — creating processes, establishing relationships, cultivating advertisers, and shaping it into something that genuinely serves Knoxville. Seeing the first edition printed and out in the world was a moment of validation that all the late nights and unknowns were worth it.

Personally, this year has also been one of the most spiritually centered seasons of my life. I’ve been more intentional about grounding myself, understanding what I believe, and letting those beliefs shape who I’m becoming. My devotional work, my routines, and the internal conversations I have with myself each morning have helped me align my energy, stay focused, and move with purpose. It’s given me a stronger sense of direction — not in the sense of knowing every step, but in trusting that I’m being shaped into exactly who I’m supposed to be.

One of the other major areas of growth for me has been launching and sustaining BeLocal Bingo. I took an idea that didn’t exist in the city, created it from nothing, and watched it evolve into a community connector that brings joy, engagement, and real support to local nonprofits. Every time I see organizations interacting with attendees, or watch strangers connect over something as simple as a free game night, I’m reminded that I built something meaningful — not because I had to, but because I believed Knoxville needed a space like this.

If I had to summarize what this year taught me, it would be this: nothing stays still. You don’t stay still. The world around you doesn’t stay still. You are always evolving into something stronger than you were yesterday, even if you don’t notice it in the moment. But evolution only happens when you move. Without discipline and consistency, nothing shifts — the air stays still, and so do you. This year taught me that even tiny movements matter, because each one restructures you into someone more capable than you were before.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://belocalofknoxville.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/belocalofktown/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/belocalofktown
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/tiffany-davis-a046541a8/