The Heart of Emotional Intelligence
- andrawischmeierthe
- Jul 23
- 5 min read
A few years ago, I sat across from a young woman in my office; let’s call her Claire. She had come in with a pretty typical list of things that bring people to therapy: feeling overwhelmed, disconnected, and vaguely anxious all the time. She was high-functioning, kind, and burnt out. Somewhere between talking about her workload and her relationships, she paused, looked up, and said, “I don’t even know what I’m feeling half the time. I just know I’m not okay.” That moment stuck with me. Because in some way, we’ve all been Claire. We’ve all had times where our emotional dashboard is blinking red and we don’t know whether we need a nap, a boundary, a cry, or a full-blown life overhaul.
And yet, at the core of emotional intelligence (and good self-care) is the ability to slow down and walk ourselves through four deceptively simple questions:
What am I feeling?
How can I express or show it clearly?
What do I need from myself right now?
What do I need from others?
These questions aren’t just a therapeutic checklist. They are the foundation of what it means to care for yourself and have relationships that can handle real, human emotions. Let’s walk through them together, one layer at a time.
1. What am I feeling? (Name it to tame it)
Emotions are like signals on a dashboard, they are data points telling you what matters. But if you don’t know how to read the signals, you can’t respond wisely. You’ll either ignore the flashing “check engine” light and power through, or you’ll spiral into overwhelm without knowing what’s wrong. For many people, “I’m fine,” "I'm upset," or “I’m stressed” are the only labels they use. But beneath the surface, there’s usually more: maybe you’re disappointed, jealous, guilty, or lonely. Maybe you’re not “just mad,” you’re hurt that your needs weren’t seen. Developing emotional intelligence starts with vocabulary. When we can name our emotions with precision (I feel unseen, I feel proud, I feel nervous but hopeful) we stop drowning in them and start engaging with them. Think of it like this: emotions don’t ask for control; they ask for attention. And naming your emotion is the first act of care.
2. How can I show or tell it? (Express, don’t impress)
Once you know how you feel, the next move is to bring it into relationship. Not by exploding or bottling, but by expressing with clarity and respect. This is where many of us get tripped up. We were taught to be “nice,” to not rock the boat, or to tough things out. Maybe we’ve tried to express ourselves before and were ignored, laughed at, or shut down. So we learn to silence what we feel… until it leaks out sideways. But emotional intelligence is all about authentic, skillful expression.
That might look like:
Saying, “I’m feeling really overwhelmed right now. Can we take a break and revisit this later?”
Or, “I felt dismissed during that meeting. Can we talk about what happened?”
Or even just texting a friend, “Hey, I’m not doing great today. Just needed to say it.”
You don’t have to get it perfect. You don’t even have to talk right away. But putting feelings into words (or art, or movement, or tears) is part of letting your inner world be real, not repressed.
3. What do I need from myself? (The first responder in your emotional life)
This is where self-care shifts from bubble baths to real nourishment. Once you’ve identified your emotion and expressed it, the next step is to ask: What do I need from me right now? Sometimes the need is physical: rest, food, water, movement. Sometimes it’s emotional: reassurance, compassion, permission to say no. Sometimes it’s deeper: reminding yourself you are worthy even if you're struggling, or stepping back to examine a pattern you’re tired of repeating. Good self-care is being the kind of presence for yourself that you often try to be for others. You validate your pain. You comfort your fear. You tell the truth. You don’t gaslight your own experience by saying “it’s not that bad” or “I should be over this.”
When Claire began learning how to name and express her emotions, she also started building rituals that helped her respond to them. After a hard day, she might wrap herself in a blanket and journal. If she was anxious, she’d go for a walk instead of doom-scrolling. These weren’t magic fixes. But they were a way of saying to herself: I’m here. I care. I’m not abandoning you.
4. What do I need from others? (The vulnerability of asking)
Here’s where it gets even more real. Because the final step in emotional intelligence isn’t just knowing yourself, it’s being able to ask for what you need in relationships. This is not easy. Especially if you’ve grown up feeling like your needs were too much or not welcome. Especially if you’ve been praised for being “independent” or feel ashamed of needing anything from anyone at all. But the truth is, we are wired for connection. And we cannot self-soothe our way out of loneliness, longing, or relational rupture. We need each other, and learning to ask is an act of maturity, not weakness.
Sometimes you need comfort: “Can you just sit with me while I cry?” Sometimes you need space: “I need some time to calm down before we talk.” Sometimes you need support: “Would you be willing to help me figure this out?” Sometimes you need reassurance: “I’m feeling insecure. Could you tell me what you’re thinking?” Asking for what you need doesn’t guarantee you’ll get it, but it does ensure you won’t build resentment trying to pretend you don’t need anything. It makes your relationships more honest and gives others the chance to show up for you in real ways.
Putting It All Together: A Real-Life Example
Let’s go back to Claire.
One afternoon, she came in frustrated with her partner. “He forgot to check in after my big presentation. He said he just got busy, but it really hurt.” Before therapy, she might have just said she was “fine” and pulled away. But that day, she walked herself through the four steps.
What am I feeling?: Hurt, unimportant, disappointed.
How can I express it?: “When you didn’t check in, I felt really unseen. That moment meant a lot to me.”
What do I need from myself?: Compassion. Permission to feel sad, even if it wasn’t intentional.
What do I need from him?: Acknowledgment, and for him to understand why it mattered.
They had the conversation. He apologized and thanked her for telling him instead of silently resenting it. She felt heard, and their connection deepened, not because it was a perfect moment, but because it was a real one.
Emotional Intelligence Is a Practice, Not a Trait
Here’s what’s important to know: these four steps aren’t one-and-done. They’re more like muscles. You build them over time, in small moments, with lots of wobbling and course correction. There will be days you don’t know how you feel. Days you say the wrong thing. Days you ask for support and don’t get it. That’s okay. The goal is not perfection (that's frankly impossible and an unhealthy standard), it’s Interest...Honesty...Growth. Emotional intelligence isn’t about being “chill” or always saying the right thing. It’s about being in relationship with yourself and others in a way that’s anchored, aware, and open.
At the heart of this process is one radical idea:
So next time you feel that tightness in your chest or the urge to shut down or lash out, pause. Ask yourself:
What am I really feeling?
How can I show this honestly?
What do I need from me?
What do I need from someone else?
Then respond with kindness. That’s what good self-care (and good emotional intelligence) actually looks like.
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