You Can’t Take The Girl Out of Belfast: Emma Neill

Written and Interviewed by Charlotte Lewis

At 27, Belfast-born creator and podcast host Emma Neill has crafted a space online that feels equal parts soft and sharp. One moment she’s talking about hard hitting topics and societal conditioning; the next she’s laughing about drinking cactus jacks in the local park as a teen. Her online presence may appear effortless, but her grounding is unmistakably Northern Irish; rooted in humour, resilience and a refusal to take herself too seriously.

Raised between two sides, a Protestant, middle-class father and a Catholic, working-class mother; Emma grew up in what she calls a “post-conflict bubble,” born not long after the Good Friday Agreement. Her parents raised her with optimism, but Belfast’s realities had their own checks and balances. “You’re told you can be whatever you want,” she says, “but anytime you do anything, someone tries to pull you back down a peg. Belfast keeps you humble, whether you like it or not.”  Ambition and mockery go hand-in-hand. “It’s just part of the culture. You either let it stop you or accept it and get on with it.”

When asked to picture her teenage years, she doesn’t launch into romance or rebellion, she talks about the smell of wooden floorboards and sweat. “Dancing was my safe haven. When friendships were messy and my mental health was all over the place, that studio was the one place I always felt good.”

Her first creative playground wasn’t Instagram, but Tumblr. “I swear I was coding at 14,” she laughs. “It was this evolving canvas, it could change every day with my mood. Unlike school art projects where you had to submit one perfect piece, Tumblr could just keep morphing. That freedom hooked me.” Her relationship with social media still rests on that instinctive pull toward expression rather than strategy. Even when she had fewer than 10k followers, she was creating content like an influencer, not out of ambition, but habit.

Her podcast has grown from that same impulse; not niche-led, but curiosity-led. Some episodes are sparked by things she reads; others come from whatever thought is buzzing in her brain that morning. “It’s like I’m the centre, and every topic is a branch off me,” she says. Some subjects demand rigour; like her abortion episode: “I wanted it to be completely research-backed. If I’m going to tackle something sensitive, it needs weight.” Others are recorded the same day they’re conceived. She’s willing to share in real time, even while still figuring things out , with one rule: she won’t drag others into it. “I’ll talk about what I’m going through personally, even if it happened yesterday, but I’m not going to jump on and be like ‘me and my boyfriend fought about this.’ My friends and family didn’t sign up for this job.”

She speaks fondly of the Northern Irish creative scene as “tiny but close-knit,” where everyone feels one degree away from each other. The upside is community; the downside is sustainability. “In London, people can live fully off their creativity. Here, most people still need side jobs.” She admits she likes dipping in and out of London, but finds its constant activity distracting. “Sometimes I’m better off in Belfast, just staying in my lane, researching, podcasting, not chasing every thing.”

Her standout moment of this year was attending the first-ever Ireland Fashion Week. She lights up talking about it. “Honestly? Irish designers are wiping the floor with other fashion designers right now. Ireland was the only fashion week that actually inspired me.” She describes productions by Rashhiiid and Sasha Donnellan with admiration, and says the graduate showcase left her “jaw on the floor the entire time.”

Despite the occasional glamour, including hosting her first branded wellness event in London, she’s quick to dispel any illusions. “Most days it’s just me at home, editing and trying to force myself into a 7:30am class so my day has a starting point and then meet up with a friend around 6pm so there is an end. If I don’t, I’ll be in bed with my laptop at 11pm still working.” She laughs at how differently people perceive her depending on which platform they follow her on. “Some people think I’m a wellness girlie. Others think I’m a party girl. Truth is, I’m both. Isn’t that just being a woman?”

When asked what song takes her back to age 13, she doesn’t hesitate: “S&M by Rihanna. I had no clue what I was singing, but I was screaming it.” She’s currently reading Half of a Yellow Sun Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and Pink Pilled by Louis Shearling, the latter being a non-fiction deep-dive into far-right female recruitment online (“Terrifying but fascinating”). Film and TV-wise, she’s in her “one-movie-a-week era” and recommends Say Nothing, The Serpent, and KIN: “basically Irish Top Boy.”

At her core, Emma isn’t trying to reinvent herself for the internet, she’s trying to document herself honestly. Not after the fact, not post-polished. In motion with authenticity intact.

Images - Emma Neill