The Work Beneath The Work
The leadership breakthrough wasn't working harder. It was becoming aware of my inner world.
We tend to think of emotional dysregulation as something children do.
Picture a three-year-old in the grocery store kicking, screaming, and insisting they are absolutely not waiting in one more line. Most adults smile awkwardly, grateful they've moved beyond that stage of life.
But have we?
I don't know about you, but there have been plenty of moments standing in a long line when I've thought, Amen, kid. Me too.
The difference isn't that adults stop becoming emotionally dysregulated. It's that we've learned different ways of expressing our emotions. Most of us aren't kicking and screaming in Aisle 7. Instead, we grip the shopping cart a little tighter. We clench our jaws. We become impatient. We make snarky comments. We shut down. We overwork. We obsess over task lists. We carry the stress home until it spills out somewhere else. Sometimes our bodies carry it for us through headaches, neck pain, tight shoulders, or heartburn.
Looking calm on the outside doesn't necessarily mean we're emotionally regulated.
Emotional regulation isn't about never becoming overwhelmed. It's about recognizing when we're overwhelmed, understanding what's happening inside us, and having the tools to come back to ourselves.
At a pivotal point in my early career, I felt stuck but couldn't figure out why.
I was reliable. I loved learning, read every supplemental article I could find, and asked lots of questions. I knew how to leave my personal life at the door, put my head down, and get the work done. I kept telling myself that if I just worked harder, eventually I would break out of the stuckness.
From the outside, it looked like I was doing everything right.
At first, I did what many of us do: I looked outward. Maybe my manager wasn't giving me opportunities. Maybe the organization was holding me back. But after enough frustration and reflection, I realized something uncomfortable.
I was the problem. (Cue Taylor Swift’s Anti-Hero.)
Not because I wasn't capable. Because I wasn't aware.
There were patterns shaping my decisions that I couldn't yet see. They weren't obvious like a child having a tantrum in the grocery store. They were subtle—hesitation, perfectionism, hypervigilance, trying to prove myself and earn my place.
Around the same time, I became a parent. I was leading teams, managing projects, supporting clients, and trying to raise a tiny human while feeling increasingly unlike myself. The tools I had relied on for years—running, journaling, and spending time alone—weren’t as available to me. I pivoted from parenting to managing then back to parenting. It felt all-consuming. I was always on the edge of, or in, emotional dysregulation. But I didn’t know it.
So I did something that felt vulnerable and hard at the time: I asked for help. I started seeing a therapist. What I realized pretty quickly was that if I wanted the space and grounding to be the kind of leader, and the kind of parent, I wanted to be, I needed to have better self-awareness and to understand how my past was shaping my present.
This was my introduction to practicing metacognition.
The Work Beneath the Work
One of the first books my therapist introduced me to was Mindsight by Daniel J. Siegel. Siegel talks about creating distance between our thoughts and our actions. The first step is being curious about ourselves.
Part of the curiosity that Siegel talks about is recognizing when we are no longer emotionally regulated. Emotional regulation doesn't mean we never become stressed, frustrated, anxious, or overwhelmed. It means noticing when those emotions are beginning to drive our thoughts and actions instead of simply informing them.
That idea changed everything for me.
We bring our emotional dysregulation with us to work all the time. We can sit through an entire meeting looking calm, while internally we're spiraling, replaying conversations, worrying about something outside the room, or assuming the worst. From the outside, we appear composed. Inside, we've been hijacked.
If we don't recognize that it's happening, there's very little we can do about it.
Awareness is the first step. Before we react—or overreact—we can take a beat. Investigate our emotions. Really consider why we're feeling the way we are. Is it because this meeting is particularly stressful? Or is it because the way feedback was delivered reminded you of a toxic boss from a previous job, and now your body is holding tension, ready for a fight?
When we notice ourselves becoming activated, we have choices. We can pause before responding. We can take a walk. We can ask for a few minutes to think or breathe. We can simply name what's happening in our minds and bodies. That small space between reaction and response is where better decisions and more grounded leadership begin.
Something else changes, too.
As we become more aware of our own patterns, we begin to recognize them in other people. We stop asking, What's wrong with them? and start wondering, What might be happening for them right now? We become less judgmental and more curious. We create space for people to regain their footing instead of expecting them to simply push through.
Looking back, I'm incredibly grateful that I asked for help. Therapy didn't just help me feel better. It changed the trajectory of my career. The growth I was searching for didn’t come from doubling down on effort or pushing myself harder. It came from slowing down, paying attention, and developing a deeper awareness and compassion for myself and the people around me so we could all show up more fully in our work.
Resources: I created my Trust Together workshop to unpack lessons I've learned about understanding myself and doing my own work so I can work better with others on my team. Learn more about Trust Together and the Growing Trust Series here.
