II used to believe that being highly empathetic was my professional superpower.

After all, emotional intelligence is a prized leadership trait, right?

My early mentors certainly thought so:

"Don't get emotional in conflict.

Never make decisions when you're upset.

Always keep your cool."

So, I mastered the art of emotional regulation.

I paused, breathed, and responded calmly, even in high-stakes moments.

From the outside, I was a thoughtful, composed, professional leader.

But inside, something subtle—and serious—was eroding.

The hidden cost of over-regulation.

While I got better at managing emotional reactions, I neglected emotional restoration.

I didn’t make time to feel joy after conflict.

I didn’t know I needed to.

At the root of this?

An old belief I’d inherited early in life:

So I worked hard. I kept it together.

I showed up for others.

But I stopped showing up for myself.

This is how emotional intelligence became emotional labor.

And how emotional labor slowly morphed into people-pleasing.

The people-pleasing trap (that looks like professionalism).

Without joy and self-restoration, my “mature conflict resolution” style looked like this:

How do I reduce friction?
How do I keep the peace?
How do I make them feel better?

It looked polished.
It looked emotionally intelligent.

But it was unsustainable.

I was absorbing everyone’s emotional burdens without replenishing my own.
Eventually, that accelerated the process of my burnout.
Worse, I lost touch with my own voice.

If you’re a highly empathetic professional woman, you might recognize this too:

Constant emotional vigilance
Overthinking every interpersonal moment
Burnout masked as high performance
Resentment showing up as silence

This isn’t a personal flaw.
It’s a sign you’re emotionally attuned—but not yet emotionally protected.

What I’ve learned: we need a new emotional framework.

One that honors our empathy and protects our energy.
One that balances intelligence with restoration.
One that makes room for joy—not just survival.

Here’s what changed everything for me:

When I feel emotionally triggered, I no longer just regulate—I restore:

• I acknowledge the trigger without judgment
• I restore peace and joy first (not as a reward, but as a right)
• I engage from wholeness, not depletion

This simple shift has radically transformed how I lead, communicate, and show up.
It’s not about minimizing damage anymore.
It’s about maximizing truth, trust, and mutual growth.

5 ways to practice emotionally sustainable leadership.

Let's explore how to practice emotional intelligence more wisely, drawing from my own experience:

These practices have helped me engage wisely without self-abandonment:

1. Lean into discomfort.​
Avoiding a hard conversation might feel like the path of least resistance, but it often leads to resentment and unresolved tension. Instead, see discomfort as a signal that a crucial conversation is needed. These are the moments that shape your clarity, credibility, and confidence. By stepping into them, you build the muscle of emotional resilience and strengthen your reputation as a leader who doesn't shy away from what's truly important.

2. Prepare your voice.​
Your voice is a powerful tool, and it deserves to be used with intention, not improvisation. Before a difficult conversation, take the time to craft a communication plan. What are your key points? What outcome do you hope to achieve? Don't hesitate to seek feedback from a trusted friend, mentor, or coach—even role-playing can be incredibly helpful. This preparation ensures you can articulate your thoughts and needs clearly, allowing you to engage constructively and respectfully.

3. Separate opinions from identity.​
It's easy to tie our self-worth to our beliefs, making disagreements feel like personal attacks. This is a trap that prevents growth. As a leader, it's crucial to understand that your character and self-worth are not defined by your opinions. When you detach your identity from your viewpoints, you free yourself to engage in discussions openly, listen without defensiveness, and even change your mind. This fosters true psychological safety for both you and your team.

4. Build in joy as recovery.​
Emotional sustainability isn't just about managing your reactions; it’s about replenishing your inner resources. After a challenging moment, don't just "move on." Consciously and intentionally build joy into your recovery process. This could be anything from listening to music, spending time in nature, exercising, or simply sharing a laugh with a friend. Joy is not a reward to be earned; it's essential fuel for your well-being. Prioritizing it ensures that you can show up fully, not from a place of depletion.

5. Reject the people-pleasing disguise.​
True emotional intelligence is not about being the peacekeeper at all costs. It’s about standing in a place of mutual respect where everyone’s needs—including your own—are honored. People-pleasing, while it may feel like the mature path, is often a form of emotional labor that leads to burnout and resentment. Instead, practice setting healthy boundaries and communicating your needs with clarity and kindness. This allows you to lead with integrity, knowing that your well-being is not a negotiable part of the equation.

Final thought: Emotional intelligence ≠ emotional suppression.

We talk a lot about emotional intelligence in leadership circles.
But not enough about emotional sustainability.

Because the goal isn't to become a high-functioning emotional robot.

It’s to become a wise, well-boundaried, joy-filled leader who can handle complexity without losing herself.

That’s the kind of emotional intelligence we need more of.

And that’s the kind of leader we’re becoming.

Have you found yourself over-functioning emotionally at work?

What does emotionally sustainable leadership look like to you?

With you,
Corinna

P.S. If this speaks to you, share it with another empathetic leader in your life. We need more of us leading differently.