It's hard to shake off history's age-old belief that "emotion is the opposite of reason." It's fortunate that, nowadays, more people are considering emotional stoicism as an unhealthy, repressive behavior, but I can't help but feel that intelligence and emotionality are mutually exclusive (even though I know that's not true).
When someone overreacts to criticism, I blame them for taking the matter too personally and being too emotionally attached to their work. When someone expects empathy for their sob story, I tend to throw solutions without spending time comforting them.
Maybe I harbor this belief because, in the professional workplace, I frequently hear the advice to separate emotional responses from calm, rational perspectives. But I guess there is a reason why business is a career with the highest proportion of psychopaths. The career attracts and favors those without emotion, especially remorse.
The truth is that I am emotionally weak. When my friend cries downstairs by herself because she's upset that her fiance is stressed from hosting an overly rambunctious party, I admire her strength. When my best friend from college refuses to choose the expedient path because it conflicts with her moral conscience, I am in respectful awe.
In the entrepreneurial circle, we tend to believe checking your emotions is crucial to uncompromised judgement. We seek ways to gamify emotional management, preach about mindfulness, tout empathy as the golden soft skill to hire for, but maybe if we simply opened up about our emotions and listened to others, irrational fears and all, we'd learn that emotions are intrinsic to all people, not just the incompetent.