EQ > IQ. Leading With Heart, Humor, and a Little Hellfire

There’s a moment every leader hits where you realize intellect can only take you so far. You can have the credentials, the strategy, the airtight logic and still lose the room in six seconds flat.

Ask me how I know.

I once walked into a boardroom armed with data, confidence, and the kind of righteous certainty only an overprepared woman can bring. I won the argument. Brilliantly. Cleanly. Thoroughly.

And the room died.
Silent. Resentful. Done.

That’s when I learned something they don’t put in leadership textbooks: IQ gives you the microphone. EQ decides whether anyone stays long enough to listen.

No MBA teaches you how to feel the temperature drop when someone shuts down. No certification covers what to do when someone’s two seconds from tears or rage or both. No course teaches you how to read the room from the inside out.

That part, the emotional part, is learned in private moments where you realize you weren’t wrong… you were abrasive. Or detached. Or too sharp for the moment.

I’ve cried after meetings. Not out of failure, but out of clarity.
I nailed the facts and fumbled the humanity.
I’ve rewritten emails fourteen times to avoid sounding like a passive-aggressive threat with mascara.
Sometimes I still sounded like one.

That’s when EQ became my real leadership muscle.
Checking ego before stepping into a room.
Pausing instead of popping off.
Choosing curiosity over assuming I have everyone figured out.
Asking “How’s your heart?” instead of “What’s wrong with you?”

One unlocks a person.
The other shuts them down.

This isn’t a sermon. It’s a confession.
People aren’t projects.
Teams aren’t machinery.
Trust isn’t automatic.
Emotions don’t disappear because you pretend you don’t have any.

The bravest leaders aren’t the ones who know the most.
They’re the ones who can hold space when everything feels like it's about to blow.
They’re the ones who can say “I was wrong” without swallowing their pride whole.
They’re the ones who understand that levity can save a room faster than logic ever could.

I once watched a team member cry during a performance review. Not because she was failing, but because she’d gone a year without feeling seen.
A year.
Do you know how much damage can hide inside a year?
That moment rewired me.
It reminded me that emotional intelligence isn’t soft. It’s sharp. It’s the quiet blade that cuts through ego and reveals the truth underneath.

EQ looks like knowing when to speak and when to breathe.
Knowing when to push and when to pause.
Knowing when humor will break the tension and when it will break someone’s trust.

Strategy matters. Intelligence matters.
But emotional intelligence?
That’s the flex.

And if you can do all that while wearing great lipstick?
Congratulations. You’re dangerous.

Your grit is gorgeous.
— The Maven