What to Do When You're More Emotionally Mature Than Your Boss

Madusha Ranaweera
2 days ago
4 min read

One of the hardest lessons I learned early in my career was this:

Sometimes you have to be the emotionally mature one in the room, even when your boss isn't.

I found myself, as a young (female) professional, mediating conflicts between colleagues, absorbing moods, and trying not to resent leaders who couldn't regulate themselves.

And the truth is, it was exhausting.

Because you expect leadership to come with self-regulation. You expect them to know how to manage conflict, to stay calm, to set the tone.

And when they don't, it feels unfair. Like you're forced to parent someone who should be parenting themselves.

And let's face it, most of us spend more time at work than anywhere else. We work far too hard for it to just feel like high school.

The Unfairness of It All

Here's what nobody prepares you for: sometimes the person with the most authority has the least emotional intelligence.

They get triggered easily. They play power games. They can't handle feedback. They create drama where there should be none.

And somehow, you end up being the one who has to manage their emotions, anticipate their moods, and smooth things over when they lose their composure.

It's backwards. It's exhausting. And it's far more common than anyone wants to admit.

I've been there. Managing up emotionally because my boss couldn't manage themselves. Reading the room so I could adjust my approach based on what kind of mood they were in. Mediating conflicts they created but refused to acknowledge.

It felt like I was doing two jobs: mine, and theirs.

And the worst part? There was no recognition for it. No praise for being the steady one, the mature one, the one holding things together. Because that's not supposed to be your job in the first place.

The Reality Check

So while we can't control our environments, we can control our mindsets.

And here's the shift that changed everything for me:

Step One: You can't control their triggers, their power plays, or their immaturity.

Accepting this (truly accepting this) was step one.

I had to let go of the idea that if I just communicated better, anticipated more, worked harder, they would somehow become the leader I needed them to be.

They weren't going to change. Not because of me, anyway.

And continuing to exhaust myself trying to manage their emotional chaos was only hurting me. It wasn't making them better. It was just making me burnt out.

Step Two: Lean into protecting your own nervous system.

This was the game changer.

Instead of trying to fix them, I focused on regulating myself. I stopped absorbing their stress. I stopped letting their moods dictate mine. I stopped taking responsibility for their emotional breakdowns.

This gave me a sense of choice and control, whereas before I felt like I had none.

I learned that this is how you hold on to your emotional maturity: by refusing to let theirs hijack yours.

And ironically, that's also how you step into leadership. Because leadership isn't just about titles or decisions. It's about holding your ground when others can't.

What This Looks Like in Practice

Let me be clear: this isn't about becoming cold or detached. It's about creating boundaries that protect your peace without compromising your professionalism.

Here's what that looked like for me:

I stopped trying to read their moods. Instead of scanning for emotional cues and adjusting my entire approach based on whether they seemed irritable that day, I showed up consistently. Same energy, same professionalism, regardless of their mood.

I stopped mediating conflicts they created. When colleagues came to me complaining about our boss, I empathized but didn't fix it. "That sounds frustrating. Have you talked to them directly?" I wasn't going to be the emotional buffer anymore.

I stopped taking their reactions personally. When they snapped, overreacted, or acted immaturely, I reminded myself: this is about them, not me. Their inability to regulate isn't a reflection of my worth or competence.

I set clear boundaries around my energy. I stopped staying late to clean up their messes. I stopped over-explaining to prevent their potential reactions. I did my job well and let them manage their own emotions.

Was it easy? No. Did they notice? Absolutely. Did they like it? Not at first.

But here's what happened: I stopped burning out. I stopped resenting them. And ironically, I earned more respect by holding my ground than I ever did by constantly accommodating their emotional immaturity.

The Uncomfortable Truth

The uncomfortable truth is this: if you're parenting your boss, your boss isn't a leader.

And you can't fix that. You can't emotional intelligence them into being better. You can't compensate enough to make up for their lack of self-regulation.

What you can do is refuse to let their dysfunction become your problem.

You can choose to stay calm when they're spiraling. You can choose to maintain boundaries when they're pushing. You can choose to protect your peace when they're creating chaos.

That doesn't make the situation fair. But it does give you back your power.

When to Stay and When to Go

Here's the question you have to ask yourself: is this sustainable?

Can you maintain your emotional maturity, your boundaries, and your peace in this environment? Or is it slowly eroding you?

Because sometimes, the best move isn't to stay and manage. It's to leave and find leadership that actually leads.

I've done both. I've stayed in situations where I could maintain my boundaries and still do good work. And I've left situations where the emotional tax was too high, no matter how good my boundaries were.

Only you can decide which situation you're in.

But either way, the answer isn't to keep parenting your boss. It's to protect yourself first.

Final Thought: You're Not Responsible for Their Growth

You're not responsible for teaching your boss emotional intelligence. You're not responsible for managing their triggers. You're not responsible for making them the leader they should be.

You're only responsible for yourself. Your reactions. Your boundaries. Your peace.

And sometimes, holding that line is the most powerful leadership move you can make.

Even when you don't have the title to match.

Have you ever found yourself parenting your boss? How did you handle it?