Ugh, Emotional Intelligence – Do We Really Have to?
I used to flinch when emotion entered the room. My own. Other people’s. It didn’t matter.
It wasn’t fear, exactly—it was unfamiliarity. Like I had wandered into a conversation in a language I never learned, but was somehow expected to speak fluently. And yet, it was everywhere. In leadership. In feedback. In the room.
In business, especially, feelings were often treated like a liability. Something to manage, suppress, or ignore. I learned to do that well. Sales sharpened the instinct. I spent over 15 years in the field—fast-paced, high-stakes, always forward. I loved it. Still do. Sales is a game, but also one of the quickest ways to see my impact. It rewards clarity, timing, and presence. I thrived in it.
And I also see now what was missing. I didn’t build the depth of relationship I now know was possible. I kept it focused, efficient, results-driven. I could have slowed down. I could have listened more. I could have let people in.
My intense training as a coach changed that. It didn’t just teach me new techniques—it deepened something in me. As a woman, as a business professional, as a human. I began to see how much strength lives in emotional presence. How truth doesn’t need to be loud to be powerful. How holding space for others—without fixing or filtering—can move mountains.
Early in my career, I was able to be with a seasoned CEO. He sat across from me—sharp, respected, composed. And then, tears. Not breakdown. Not drama. Just honesty. He named his fear of losing trust, his shame about an outburst, the sadness of feeling isolated. We didn’t rush past it. We stayed. And something shifted.
In him. In me.
That moment showed me what I’d been avoiding: emotion isn’t noise. It’s signal.
When I stopped flinching, I could help others do the same. High performers who had mastered outcomes but felt disconnected. New managers who defaulted to structure when what their teams needed was presence.
One new manager stands out. Brilliant. Driven. She was doing everything “right,” but her client relationships felt flat. Transactional. She wanted loyalty, but hadn’t built trust. I challenged her to lean in—not harder, but deeper. To get curious. To let a little more of herself into the room.
We created a rhythm: start each meeting with a real question. Not an icebreaker. Just presence. She began to share more of herself, too—just enough to say, “I see you as a human, not a checklist.”
And her clients met her there. The relationship shifted. Expectations got clearer. Feedback flowed. Progress became partnership. She didn’t become someone else. She became more of who she was.
And isn’t that the point?
look at all these emotions in this image
The Lesson
Emotional intelligence isn’t soft. It’s not the extra thing we get to when the real work is done. It is the work. It’s the gateway to presence, trust, and real influence.
The five core emotions, distilled and comprehensive for simple, fast leadership awareness—mad, sad, glad, fear, and shame—are not signs of weakness. They are data. Clues. Compass points. Here’s how they tend to show up in most of us:
- Mad feels hot. Tight chest. Clenched jaw. It’s the signal that something matters—and might need protecting.
- Sad settles heavy. Behind the eyes. In the throat. It’s the call to grieve what’s been lost or unmet.
- Fear is electricity in the belly. A surge. It asks us to slow down, pay attention, assess.
- Shame collapses the body. Hunched shoulders, flushed face. It speaks of a threat to belonging or worth.
- Glad expands the chest. Relaxes the face. It’s the body saying, “More of this.”
These feelings aren’t the enemy of leadership. Denying them is.
And still—people love to scoff at emotional intelligence. Dismiss it. Label it soft, indulgent, unnecessary. But more often than not, that judgment is just protection. Because emotions are messy. And most of us weren’t taught to trust them—ours or anyone else’s. We were taught to control, to compartmentalize, to stay safe. So when emotional intelligence walks in the room, it threatens the whole setup. It asks us to get familiar with what we’ve spent years avoiding. And yes, that can be terrifying. But it’s also the only way through.
The moment we name what we feel, we begin to lead with clarity instead of confusion. Emotion doesn’t have to steer the ship. But it should absolutely have a seat at the table.
The Shift
Imagine a leader walking into a tense room and saying: “I’m noticing some fear here. Let’s name it, so we can move forward.”
It doesn’t derail the meeting. It grounds it.
That’s what changes when we normalize emotion: we stop managing reactions and start generating trust.
We stop performing leadership and start living it.
The Application
Next time you feel something big rising—pause. Ask yourself:
- What am I feeling?
- What does this feeling want me to know?
Then use the Clearing Model:
- I feel [mad, sad, glad, fear, or shame]
- The fact is…
- My assumption is…
- What I want is…
Try it in a conversation you’ve been avoiding. Write it out. Say it aloud. Let it clear the fog.
Emotion doesn’t slow you down. It shows you the way.
News from Kate
Want to practice this live? I’m offering a free 15-minute “Traction Talk” consult—no script, just space.
Or walk with me in Boulder. Sometimes clarity needs movement.
Until then: Feel it. Speak it. Lead anyway.
![](https://aboutboulder.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/07/2-2.png")
