WHAT LOVE TAKES FROM YOU : AND WHY PEACE MIGHT BE THE BETTER TRADE

Disclaimer: This podcast is for informational and inspirational purposes only. I am not a licensed therapist, psychologist, or medical professional. The insights shared on this podcast stem from personal experiences, research, and opinions, and are not a substitute for professional mental health advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Please consult a qualified expert for personalized support.

Please note: This written version of the episode may differ slightly from the spoken audio due to editing for clarity, flow, or emphasis.

“We were told love would complete us. No one warned us how often it would deplete our soul.” – Cassandra De Pecol

On this week’s episode: What Love Takes From You: And Why Peace Might Be the Better Trade,  a conversation about the emotional highs we’ve been taught to idolize, and whether they’re actually making us whole or quietly wearing us down. From the fantasy of perfect love to the chase for constant happiness, we’ll question what we’ve been told about fulfillment and explore why contentment, solitude, and peace might be the truths we’ve overlooked.

Welcome to the DELCÂ Podcast, a diary on health, wellness, business, travel, and thought-provoking conversations. I’m your host, Cassandra De Pecol. This episode might challenge the way you think about love, relationships, happiness, and the life you’ve been conditioned to want. If you’re ready to get honest about what actually brings peace in a chaotic world, you’re in the right place. This isn’t about detaching from emotion. It’s about redefining what we give our energy to.

Today on the DELCÂ Podcast: What Love Takes From You: And Why Peace Might Be the Better Trade. I’m Cassandra De Pecol.

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Are you in love? Have you ever been? These are questions that sit at the root of how most of us measure meaning in our lives. Statistically, around 20 percent of people report never having been in love. That might sound surprising, but I believe it. I know people who’ve never had that kind of connection, and they’re still whole. Still breathing. Still capable of purpose and joy. So it brings up a question we rarely ask aloud: do we really need love to live a full, meaningful life, or is that just the myth we were handed and never thought to challenge?

There are so many versions of love. The love between parent and child. The love of close friends. The love we feel for animals, for nature, for a higher power, or even for the world itself. But still, love is framed as essential. The foundation. The finish line. We’re told that love heals, that love completes us, that life without it is empty. Yet the older I get, the more I realize how much of that narrative might be a distraction. Love, in its many forms, is beautiful, but it’s also unpredictable. It’s often unstable. It requires energy, vulnerability, compromise, and sometimes, self-abandonment. It can lift you and wreck you all at once. It can root you or unravel you. And no matter what form it comes in, love often carries an inevitable end: through distance, betrayal, change, or death.

I know that might sound harsh, especially coming from someone who has known love in many forms. I’ve been surrounded by it for most of my life, by parents who would still be there for me in a heartbeat, friends who’ve held space for me through every chapter, partners who’ve shaped who I’ve become, and animals who feel like pieces of my soul. I’ve never gone without love. I’ve never experienced the kind of deep, aching loneliness people speak of with a quiet tremble in their voice. And yet, despite all of that, or maybe because of it, I crave solitude. Not the kind that lasts a few hours or a long weekend. I’m talking about real solitude. The kind that stretches for weeks, even months. Where there are no plans, no voices, no expectations. Just silence, stillness, and space. It’s not about escaping others. It’s about returning to myself, uninterrupted. And in that kind of quiet, I’ve found something that love never gave me. A peace that stays, whether someone is holding my hand or not.

Living without people. Disappearing into the quiet. For months at a time. That is the love I give to myself when no one else can understand it.

For my 27th birthday, I went to Mongolia and stayed in a yurt in the middle of the wilderness, where I didn’t see another person for days, aside from the woman who sourced local food and the man who milked cows at sunrise. It wasn’t lonely. It was peaceful. It was sacred. It was mine. And it reminded me that solitude isn’t the opposite of love. It’s where love for the self deepens. It’s where peace becomes real.

That said, while I believe love may not be essential in all its forms, there is one version I do think matters deeply. The love of a parent. And if that kind of love is unavailable, whether through absence, instability, or harm, then the love a child learns to give themselves in its place becomes just as important. A child’s early experience of love forms the blueprint for how they relate to others and, more importantly, to themselves. If they are never shown love, they may spend a lifetime searching for it in places that offer only confusion or pain. If they are taught that love must be earned or chased, they may associate it with suffering. But if they are shown unconditional love, or if they are taught how to create it within, they grow up with an inner compass. One that teaches them how to love others with care, how to recognize what is real, and how to come home to themselves when no one else can.

I’ve seen all sides of this. People who had little love growing up and now search desperately for it. People who had too much and still feel empty. There’s no formula. There are people who grew up in warmth and turned cold, and others who were neglected and became kind. I’m not here to generalize. I can only speak from my experience. And my experience tells me that while love is beautiful, it is not essential. Not in the way we were told it would be.

I think I’ve discovered something that most people avoid admitting. You can live a deeply fulfilling, emotionally rich life without being in love. You can choose peace over passion. You can let solitude strengthen you rather than letting loneliness consume you. You don’t have to be chasing love to be whole. You can stop running.

In the last episode, we talked about death, the one inevitable moment we all face. And here’s the truth. No matter how much love you’ve experienced, no matter who is in the room with you, you will take your last breath alone. Even if you have the luxury of knowing when it will happen, even if someone you love is holding your hand, it will still be your body, your breath, your mind, your release. If you don’t have that luxury, chances are you’ll be alone anyway. And that terrifies people.

Most people are afraid of dying alone. It’s one of the deepest fears we carry, and it clouds our judgment. We chase love not just for joy, but because we think it will protect us from that final moment of isolation. But maybe it’s time to reframe that. Maybe the real peace comes from not needing anyone else to hold that moment with you. If you can find love and acceptance within yourself, you won’t need someone else to validate your life as it ends. And if you don’t need it at death, maybe you don’t need it in life either.

I know that’s not an easy concept. And yes, it might sound cynical to someone listening without the inner context of what this actually means. I know how deeply we crave connection. I know how natural it is to want someone to witness our pain, our joy, and our growth. But the practice of non-attachment, of loving without clinging, of existing without needing, and of learning how to let go, is what allows us to taste real freedom. You don’t need to be loved by others to be complete. You need to be loved by you.

So in this episode, I want to explore what it means to let go of the idea that love is the end goal. I want to look at the cost of obsession, the pressure to find your person, and why so many of us are left wondering if love is even worth the weight it carries. This isn’t about cynicism. It’s about clarity.

I’m Cassandra De Pecol, and you’re listening to the DELCÂ Podcast.

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Do you remember that young kind of love? The one that felt light and honest before the world told us what love was supposed to look like? Maybe it was a crush on a classmate in elementary school, or maybe it was your first real relationship in high school. Back when we believed we’d marry that person, back when we thought forever could fit inside a hallway kiss or a note passed in class. I remember my first love clearly. We had no expectations, no baggage, no fears about the future. We were infatuated, innocent, and completely lost in the moment. It didn’t matter if the love was healthy or sustainable. We didn’t care. We just felt, and we followed the feeling.

Now, at 35, I’ve come to realize that kind of love is something I will never feel again. And I’m okay with that. It belongs in the archives of youth. It served its purpose, and it was never meant to last. Back then, as kids, especially for someone like me growing up as a cis woman, we didn’t need to think about whether the guy had money, or if he was successful. He was still in school. We didn’t care if he was tall enough, if he had kids, if he had been divorced, or if he was religious. He was still figuring out who he was. We all were.

But adulthood changes the stakes. As we age, love becomes more complicated, more performative, and far less forgiving. We’re expected to have our lives together, to carry wisdom, healing, growth, stability. By the time you’re in your thirties and beyond, you’ve likely faced your own traumas or heartbreaks, and so has the person you’re trying to love. So yes, it’s harder to find that same weightless love. Because the older we get, the more we realize that love, while powerful, is not enough.

We used to be able to settle for innocence. Now we require discernment. Love is no longer just about butterflies or connection. It’s about compatibility. Safety. Shared values. Security. It’s about how someone fits into your quality of life and how they affect your peace. In this world, especially now, love needs to come with protection, provision, and presence. It needs to feel like a partnership, not just a passion. Because without those things, love becomes fragile. And fragile things break.

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I have known people who married for love and others who married for money. Both men and women. And I’m not here to judge either choice. I’ve seen the romantic ones who end up feeling empty, unsupported, and alone. I’ve seen the transactional ones who gain comfort and structure but still carry a kind of quiet, aching loneliness. So if I’m being honest, I want neither.

In both situations, someone is giving away a part of themselves. Their time. Their energy. Their emotional bandwidth. Their softness. Their light. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the name of love or stability. Something gets handed over. And for many, that creates a hollow space inside that never quite fills again.

We often forget that being with someone, no matter how perfect it looks from the outside, doesn’t shield you from feeling alone. Love, especially the kind we chase for highs, can create emotional whiplash. It brings euphoric joy, but it also creates deep crashes. Because every high must eventually fall. Every new spark becomes a routine. Every promise of forever gets tested by reality.

We talk about love like it’s permanent, but so much of it isn’t. It evolves, it shifts, or it fades. And if we build our emotional wellbeing on the peak of it, we forget to prepare for the descent. That crash, the one that comes after the rush, is what catches most people off guard. And the truth is, it’s not just romantic. The same applies to happiness, passion, desire, even hope. What goes up must come down. That is the nature of emotion. That is the reality of being human.

So if the goal is to stay in those highs forever, we’re setting ourselves up to suffer. But if we can learn to build our lives around balance, around peace instead of intensity, then the crash doesn’t feel like failure. It just feels like part of the rhythm.

And maybe that’s why so many of us are tired. Not just from heartbreak, but from the emotional highs we keep chasing. The spark. The passion. The thrill of being chosen. The game of femininity vs masculinity, when… shouldn’t it just be natural selection? We’ve built our lives around fleeting feelings, hoping they’ll turn into something permanent. But they never do.

Coming up after the break, I want to explore something even more subtle, but just as powerful. The difference between happiness and peace. And why choosing the quieter path might be the thing that finally sets us free.

I’m Cassandra De Pecol, and you’re listening to the DELCÂ Podcast.

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There’s this question people love to ask. “Are you happy?” As if happiness is a box to check or a destination you eventually arrive at and get to stay in forever. But the more I live, the more I think that question is misleading. Because happiness, by definition, is a temporary emotional spike. It’s real, yes, and it’s beautiful when it happens, but it isn’t sustainable. Peace is.

For clarity, I’m spiritual in my own way, but I don’t commit to any one religion or faith. Still, when it comes to the topic of happiness versus peace, I tend to resonate with Buddhist philosophy. Buddhism teaches that clinging to pleasure—or to moments of happiness—only creates suffering. What actually frees us is contentment. A quiet, grounded sense of enough. Not the thrill, not the high, not the euphoric feeling that something amazing just happened, but the deep exhale that says even in this ordinary moment, even in this silence, I’m okay.

I’ve had moments where I’ve felt happy. I’ve also had long seasons where I’ve felt at peace. And I will always choose peace. Happiness asks for momentum. Peace asks for stillness. Happiness demands more. Peace accepts what is. When you chase happiness, it often runs. But when you settle into contentment, peace has a way of staying.

I used to feel like something was wrong with me when people asked if I was happy and I couldn’t fully say yes. I thought that meant I was broken. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to understand that it just means I’m content. I find sparks of joy, yes. I achieve, I travel, I try to grow. But I’m not on a constant high, and I don’t think we’re meant to be. I’m content with a life I’ve cultivated on my own terms. I’m content that I’m not suffering in the ways that so many people are. I have pain, but I don’t resent it. I think setbacks are part of the rhythm that lets us feel balance. Without difficulty, how would we recognize ease?

I’m content with my health. I’m not in perfect condition, but I’m not dying either. There’s room for improvement, which gives me something to work toward. At the same time, I’m aging. So are my bones. That’s just how it goes.

There’s a psychologist named Dr. Robert Puff who talks about this difference in a way I think more people need to hear. He says, “When we chase happiness, we’re chasing something outside of ourselves. But when we pursue peace, we’re nurturing something within.” He explains that the happiest people aren’t the ones always in a good mood, but the ones who know how to sit with what is. 

And I think that’s where a lot of people get stuck. They think happiness is the goal. That if they’re not happy, something must be wrong. But what if being content, being calm, being whole, is actually the most powerful state we can reach?

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So after everything we’ve unpacked in this episode, here’s what it really comes down to. What are you building your life around? What are you actually chasing? Is it the intensity of love, the feeling of being seen, of being chosen? Is it the illusion of permanent happiness? Or is it something quieter? Something more stable?

These aren’t questions with easy answers. But we rarely stop long enough to ask them at all.

Esther Perel, who has spent decades studying modern relationships, says, “Today, we turn to one person to give us what once an entire village used to provide. A partner has to be our greatest confidant, our best friend, our passionate lover, our intellectual equal, our therapist, our financial ally, our co-parent, and our soulmate.” The pressure is unrealistic, and yet most people feel like they’re failing if they don’t have it. And if they do have it, they often feel suffocated by it. That’s the paradox. Love, as we’ve constructed it in this culture, often becomes an impossible assignment.

Alain de Botton, author of The Course of Love, challenges the idea that love is about always being in sync or fulfilled. He says, “Compatibility is an achievement, not a precondition.” He describes love not as finding someone who meets your checklist, but as the willingness to learn and teach each other how to be loved. That is not romantic. That is work. And it takes a level of emotional maturity most of us don’t develop until after we’ve already ruined a few things.

So what happens when we stop chasing love as a form of emotional rescue? What happens when we realize that freedom and peace might be more honest foundations for life?

Arthur Brooks, a Harvard professor who teaches a course on happiness, writes in From Strength to Strength that lasting satisfaction comes not from achievement or emotional highs, but from what he calls “a deep well of calm.” He says, “The happiest people don’t feel great all the time. What they have is emotional security. They know who they are, and they are at peace with the ordinary.” That line hit me. Peace with the ordinary. Not chasing the next thing. Not trying to recreate the thrill. But standing still and knowing you’re enough.

I used to think choosing peace meant giving up. That it meant settling. That it meant I was opting out of the full range of life. But I don’t feel that way anymore. Now, I see peace as the strongest decision you can make. It’s not the absence of emotion. It’s the presence of discernment. It’s knowing what costs too much. It’s saying no to chaos when you know your body can’t take another storm.

We live in a world that rewards intensity. Big love. Big ambition. Big goals. But nobody gives you a trophy for being calm. For being content. For choosing the life that makes the most sense for your nervous system, not your ego. And maybe that’s why so many people feel lost. They’re chasing a version of fulfillment that was never designed to last.

So what does this mean for you?

Maybe you are someone who truly wants the experience of deep, consuming love. Maybe that love is already in your life. Or maybe it’s never been. Maybe you’re someone who keeps coming back to yourself and wondering why it’s not enough. Either way, the point isn’t to choose one path over another. The point is to choose consciously. With eyes open.

Ask yourself, would I trade consistent peace for occasional passion? Would I give up self-trust for the thrill of being needed? Am I seeking a partner because I truly want connection, or because I want someone to help carry my existence?

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In today’s episode, we explored the emotional weight of love, the illusion of permanence in happiness, and the growing importance of peace and solitude. From early love to adult expectation, from emotional highs to steady inner calm, we asked what it really means to live well. And maybe that answer looks different than the one we were taught.

So here’s something I’ve come to believe. You can have love, and still choose yourself. You can feel joy, and still prefer calm. You can say no to intensity, and still live deeply. You do not have to suffer for your life to have meaning. You just have to be awake for it.

If today’s episode shifted something in you, I encourage you to sit with that feeling. Write about it. Ask yourself what peace looks like in your day-to-day life. What love means to you outside of partnership. What success would look like if it didn’t depend on applause.

For further reflection, I recommend The Course of Love by Alain de Botton, Mating in Captivity by Esther Perel, or From Strength to Strength by Arthur Brooks. Each of these offers a different lens through which to see love, meaning, and the emotional architecture of a fulfilling life.

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Thank you so much for listening. If you have a topic you’d like me to speak on, a person you think I should interview on the show, or a story you want to share, email us at hello@delcalife.com. That’s hello@d-e-l-c-a-l-i-f-e dot com. Follow us on Instagram and TikTok @delcalife. All information shared on the DELCÂ podcast is based on opinion and personal or cited perspectives.

Until next time.

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THE INNER SPECTRUM: EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE, LITERACY AND AGILITY 

Disclaimer:
This podcast is for informational and inspirational purposes only. I am not a licensed therapist, psychologist, or medical professional. The insights shared on The Inner Spectrum reflect personal experiences, research, and opinions, and are not a substitute for professional mental health advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Please consult a qualified expert for personalized support.

Please note:

This written version of the episode may differ slightly from the spoken audio due to editing for clarity, flow, or emphasis.

True strength in a room does not manifest through outward bursts of emotion. Rather, it is found in the quiet certainty of restraint. Where children may react impulsively to their feelings, healthy adults are in tune with their emotions, yet choose to respond with logic and clear intent.

Welcome to this week’s episode: The Inner Spectrum – Emotional Intelligence, Literacy and Agility, where we explore and decode how to perceive, understand, and manage emotions effectively with insights from experts like Daniel Goleman, Susan David, and Brené Brown. 

Welcome to the DELCÂ podcast, a diary on health, wellness, business, travel, and everything in between. I’m your host, Cassandra De Pecol, and today, we’re going to be diving into some thought provoking discussions around controlling our emotions as adults. Something that might seem easy, until we’re in the heat of the moment.

Today on the DELCÂ Podcast, The Inner Spectrum: Emotional Intelligence, Literacy and Agility. I’m Cassandra De Pecol.

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As adults, we’re constantly fighting the urge to act on emotion. One scenario that comes to mind is when, in March 2023, TikTok CEO Shou SHOW Chew sat before a room full of U.S. Senators, many of whom seemed to have little to no understanding of what TikTok actually represents to the 170 million Americans who use it. He was unfairly judged and criticized by some senators who assumed he had ties to the Chinese Communist Party, based solely on how he looks. It’s worth noting that a few didn’t even realize Singapore, his home country, is an independent nation.

It’s hard to imagine Mark Zuckerberg or Evan Spiegel facing the same assumptions during their testimonies, likely because they’re white. Some senators even raised their voices at Chew and became visibly emotional during their ill-prepared questioning. Yet through it all, Chew remained composed. He stayed neutral, approachable, and never once raised his voice or lost control. Many of us watching were struck by how professionally he held his composure through hours of repeated testimony.

It would have been easy to lash out, make a defensive remark, or walk out. But the restraint and intelligence he demonstrated took a profound level of emotional regulation and maturity. That’s something many of us are still trying to master well into adulthood.

How many times has someone cut you off, flipped you off, and sped away? We know they weren’t regulating their emotions. But if you’re honest, were you? Or think about that tense work call when someone overreacted and later apologized because they were having a bad day. Maybe it was your parent, sibling, or friend who took out their frustration on you. Or maybe it was you.

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Anger, sadness, frustration. We’re human, and we feel it all. What matters as we grow is how we manage those emotions. We can’t stay kids forever, but we’re not robots either. We do need to stand up for ourselves when something doesn’t sit right. The key is finding the balance between expressing how we feel in a regulated way and knowing the right time and place to do it.

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If you listened to last season’s episode, “The Path to Influence,” you know that the bullying I experienced led me down many emotional paths. Frustration, anger, and sadness were just a few. I’ve felt wronged and treated poorly in the past, but that doesn’t mean I need to act out on those emotions. Through the personal work I’ve done, some major realizations have come to the surface.

While I’ve always believed I had a strong grasp on emotional intelligence, feeling deeply empathetic toward others and having had enough therapy to understand my emotions, I still tend to be blunt about what’s right and what’s wrong. Sometimes it comes across as impolite. From my perspective, I’m just stating the facts to get to the point. But this, along with other realizations, made me wonder if there’s a deeper reason I respond the way I do. Something beyond what my Myers-Briggs, Big Five, or Enneagram types have told me.

Lately, I’ve started thinking outside the box. I began adding up all the little things that made me feel different from people around me. Why did I act that way? Why have I never been a team player? What really caused my depression? Why do I loathe small talk? Why was I so hyper-focused on achieving all my life goals by 30, no matter what? These questions, and many more, led me to explore the topic of neurodivergence.

As we’ll discuss later, one of the first steps to building emotional intelligence is self-awareness. It’s recognizing things about yourself you may have never noticed. We are complex beings. You could spend your whole life trying to understand your psyche, your health, your thought patterns. No two people are the same, and I find that fascinating. I love learning about who I am and how my mind works.

Quick side note. Isn’t it wild how we’re expected to keep learning about the world around us when we haven’t even fully learned about ourselves? The mental capacity that takes is enormous.

Anyway, I took some online assessments that suggested I may be on the autism spectrum. That made me pause. It actually explained a lot. Before jumping to conclusions, I scheduled a diagnostic evaluation with a professional. The results confirmed I have it, though it’s highly masked. Still, I’m not afraid to dig deeper into who I am and why I function the way I do. The more I understand myself, the better I can show up for others.

This is just one example of emotional literacy. We can’t always control what happens to us, or how people treat us. But we can try to manage how we respond, learn from those reactions, and do better next time.

Coming up after the break, where do we even begin?

I’m Cassandra De Pecol, and you’re listening to the DELCÂ Podcast.

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One of my good friends, who prides himself on his understanding of people through emotional intelligence, often references the Myers-Briggs framework. I find these things interesting too. He and I are always seeking to better understand others and ourselves. He always tells me I’m an INFJ, also known as “The Mastermind.” “I” stands for “Introvert,” “N” for “Intuitive,” “F” for “Feel,” and “J” for “Judge.”

When I took the test myself, my result was INTJ, with the “T” standing for “Think.” If you haven’t already figured out your own Myers-Briggs type, feel free to consider which psychological categories you relate to as I go through the next segment. You can also take the test online. You’ll end up with four letters, one in each category: Possible, Logical, Present, and Personal; Valuing, Visioning, Directing, and Relating.

He and I both agree that I embody the “Introvert” personality more than “Extrovert.” I love working alone, prefer a deliberate pace, and like focusing on one task at a time. The “N” for “Intuitive” describes someone who focuses on possibilities and the big picture, seeking creative solutions to problems. That’s definitely me. The “S” in this category stands for “Sensors,” people who are more realistic, detail-oriented, and rely on common sense and past experience to solve problems. I can probably relate to that more now than I used to, but I digress.

Now, this is where he disagrees with my test results. My results showed “Thinker” instead of “Feeler.” The “T” for “Thinkers” refers to people who use logic and analysis, who objectively weigh pros and cons, and who value honesty, consistency, and fairness. I do think this reflects how I process things. The “F” for “Feelers” refers to those who are sensitive and cooperative, who make decisions based on personal values and consider how their actions affect others. I’m not sure that describes me fully, but I can relate to considering others when making decisions. That part fits.

Finally, “J” stands for “Judgers,” people who tend to be organized and prepared. They like to stick to plans and are comfortable with structure. “P,” for “Perceivers,” describes people who prefer to stay flexible, act spontaneously, and leave options open. In this case, I definitely see myself more as a “J” than a “P.”

I promise I’m going somewhere with all of this. Becoming self-aware about our emotional intelligence, literacy, and agility is the first step in learning how to manage and regulate emotions. It’s important to pay attention to how we respond in certain situations. When someone says something that hits a nerve, why do we feel that way? Why are we defensive? Or, why are we feeling nothing at all? Does the subject subtly make us sad? Or excited? I think it’s crucial to dissect how we feel and, if we’re curious enough, to try to find out why.

Anyone who has gone through talk therapy knows that a lot of our emotional responses come from our upbringing or significant life experiences. The journey to self-awareness is lifelong, but it’s also deeply fascinating.

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What is emotional intelligence, or EQ, anyway? Emotional intelligence is the ability to perceive, control, and evaluate emotions. It includes emotional awareness, the ability to use emotions to guide thinking and problem-solving, and the ability to manage emotions, both your own and other people’s.

Psychologist and author Daniel Goleman, who wrote the 1995 book Emotional Intelligence: Why It Can Matter More Than IQ, outlines five key domains of EQ: self-awareness, self-regulation, motivation, empathy, and social skills.

One of my favorite quotes by him is, “CEOs are hired for their intellect and business expertise, and fired for lack of emotional intelligence.” Think about how often we’ve had bosses who lashed out in frustration just to feel like they were right. Maybe they made you feel misunderstood. Or maybe it was a partner who lacked emotional intelligence without realizing it, and you took the emotional hit every day, trying to help them understand themselves — even though it wasn’t your responsibility. Maybe you’re a parent, trying to help your child become more emotionally aware.

Whatever the situation, part of growth is recognizing these things in others and within ourselves. We’re not perfect, but the more we learn about how we function emotionally, the better humans we become. For me, I’m constantly setting goals to be my best self. That growth doesn’t come from ignoring how I treat others and myself. It comes from facing my flaws and choosing to improve.

If you love learning more about yourself through personality tests, a couple of other great ones are the Big Five and the Enneagram. The Big Five defines personality using five main traits: Openness, Conscientiousness, Agreeableness, Extraversion, and Neuroticism. The Enneagram is a system rooted in ancient spiritual traditions that describes nine interconnected personality types. It explores how we interpret the world through our core motivations, and how we manage our emotions, fears, and desires.

When we come back in just a moment, we’ll explore how to master your emotional responses and turn vulnerability into strength. How well do you understand your emotions? Can you adapt to life’s ever-changing challenges? Are you ready to face your feelings with courage and clarity, or will old habits keep you stuck?

I’m Cassandra De Pecol, and you’re listening to the DELCÂ Podcast.

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We left off reflecting on Emotional IQ, the ability to perceive, control, and evaluate our emotions. Emotional literacy is considered a key component of emotional intelligence, focusing specifically on the ability to recognize, understand, manage, and appropriately express emotions. It involves accurately labeling emotions, communicating them to others, and interpreting other people’s emotions effectively. Emotional literacy is foundational. It begins with having the vocabulary to describe what we feel and being able to express those feelings with clarity.

As I’m not a therapist or professional in the field of human emotions, I turned to research. Specifically, to the work of several authors and their findings through literature. In the book Emotional Intelligence, author Daniel Goleman emphasizes the importance of self-awareness as the first step in emotional control. He explains that recognizing one’s own emotional states is key to managing them effectively. In Permission to Feel, author Marc Brackett focuses on emotional literacy, stressing the importance of accurately labeling our emotions to better understand and manage them.

While we’re on the topic of understanding and managing emotions, psychologist and author Paul Ekman, in his book Emotions Revealed, explores the universality of basic emotions and how understanding common emotional patterns across cultures can help us manage them. He discusses how recognizing the triggers behind our emotions can lead to better regulation, especially when we consciously adjust our responses.

So, if emotional intelligence is about evaluating our emotions, and emotional literacy is about handling and expressing them, what comes next?

If we’re serious about bettering ourselves, the next step is adaptation and adjustment. That brings us to emotional agility. Emotional agility is the ability to be flexible with your thoughts and feelings so that you can respond effectively to everyday situations. The concept was introduced by psychologist and Harvard Medical School professor Susan David. She describes it as the process that helps individuals move through life’s challenges with self-acceptance, clarity, and openness.

Unlike emotional intelligence, which focuses on perception and evaluation, and emotional literacy, which focuses on recognition and expression, emotional agility is about navigating emotions with adaptability and fluidity. It’s the skill of moving through discomfort without avoiding it. In her book Emotional Agility, Susan David argues for the acceptance of emotional complexity. She suggests that emotional agility means facing your emotions with courage, curiosity, and compassion, rather than pushing them away or pretending they don’t exist.

To put it simply, emotional intelligence gives us the broad framework for emotional awareness and control. Emotional literacy helps us identify and communicate what we feel. Emotional agility adds the ability to adapt and respond with intention, especially in the face of stress or change.

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I think two traits I really value in others and in myself are empathy and vulnerability. Personally, I find it difficult to connect with someone who shows no vulnerability and lacks empathy for others. Both traits are essential for building deep, meaningful relationships, enhancing personal growth, and fostering a compassionate society. They also play a key role in emotional regulation, resilience, and authenticity. These qualities encourage people to engage more openly about their emotional experiences.

I’ve never shied away from expressing my deepest, darkest feelings and experiences, even with strangers, let alone millions of people online. One of the most significant moments I did this was on the TED stage, in front of 3,500 people, when I opened up about my depression. I admire people who can express their vulnerabilities with me. It’s actually how some of my strongest friendships have formed. I’ve found that if someone can’t open up to me the way I do with them, chances are, we’re not going to become close friends.

In Daring Greatly, author Brené Brown discusses vulnerability as a strength. She argues that acknowledging and embracing our vulnerability leads to greater emotional control and resilience. There’s something powerful about being able to connect with others on an emotional level, especially when they’re going through something hard. Chances are, we can relate to each other in some way — whether through personal experience or through someone we know.

Opening up and sharing your experiences with vulnerability takes courage. It shows strength and resilience, and it creates a sense of belonging and authenticity for both people involved. In one of her books, Brown explains that standing alone in your authenticity requires the ability to manage discomfort and emotional exposure. Those two things are essential for true belonging.

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The last topic I wanted to talk about is empathy.

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If you listened to last season’s episode on Influencer Culture, you’ll remember me talking about the Brazilian influencer with over a million followers who bullied me relentlessly. They didn’t care whether I took my own life. In fact, they encouraged it.

Sometimes, it’s easy to spot people who lack basic empathy. They attack others for no clear reason. They feel nothing toward someone going through a difficult situation. A lack of empathy can show up in many ways and often disrupts relationships and social interactions. The empath in me wants to forgive and understand these people. Maybe it isn’t entirely their fault. Maybe they have a condition that prevents them from connecting emotionally with others.

In my research, I’ve come across general behaviors often linked with a lack of empathy. People with Narcissistic Personality Disorder, or NPD, may exhibit a reduced ability to understand or care about others’ feelings. They tend to focus on their own desires and often ignore the emotional needs of those around them. If you’ve encountered someone with NPD, you know how difficult and draining those interactions can be. Many times, they don’t even realize they have it, which makes it even harder.

Another condition that can lead to a lack of empathy is Antisocial Personality Disorder, or ASPD, which is sometimes associated with sociopathic or psychopathic traits. Additionally, some people on the autism spectrum may have difficulty expressing or interpreting empathy, not because they don’t feel it, but because of challenges with social communication and processing.

There are also people who lack empathy due to poor upbringing, emotional neglect, or trauma. Emotional detachment caused by depression or other mental health issues can also blunt someone’s ability to connect emotionally. But sometimes, it’s not easy to identify the reason. Is it really their fault? Did they choose not to develop empathy, or were they born without that capacity? It’s a complicated question.

I believe the answer lies in a combination of neurological, genetic, environmental, psychological, and social factors. Still, I do think there’s a degree of choice. Some people show deep empathy toward their family or pets but show none toward strangers. That tells me empathy can be selective. So maybe, in some cases, it is a choice.

I remember some of my earliest moments of feeling deep empathy in childhood. Those moments shaped how I respond to suffering now. Whether it was a person or an animal, seeing pain in others brought a visceral reaction in me. Even now, when I witness suffering, I feel it physically. Their pain becomes mine. This kind of empathy has made life more intense to navigate. I absorb other people’s emotions so deeply that it’s often hard to separate them from my own.

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Sometimes, one of the hardest emotional challenges is navigating long-term conflict with someone who seems unable or unwilling to regulate their emotions or show empathy. You’re not always sure what version of them you’ll get. Their reactions feel unpredictable, intense, and sometimes deeply personal, even if you’ve said or done nothing to provoke it.

It’s exhausting, especially when you’re doing everything you can to stay grounded, composed, and emotionally self-aware. These situations can really test your emotional intelligence. They push you to grow, to practice restraint, and to rely on your values instead of your reactions.

I’ve learned that no matter how calm or silent you are, some people will still project their inner chaos onto you. And it’s not your job to absorb it. It’s your job to protect your peace.

But I believe that with self-awareness, people can learn empathy. Through therapy, education, and practice, anyone can develop it. Daniel Goleman writes about empathy as a pillar of emotional intelligence. He explains that understanding others helps you manage your own reactions and build stronger connections. Author Marc Brackett emphasizes the importance of emotionally supportive environments. He advocates for spaces where people can express emotions openly and learn how to regulate them.

Therapy plays a huge role in that. I know so many people who have never been to therapy, and they have their reasons. But before anyone walks into a therapist’s office, they should do a deep dive into their emotional psyche. Ask yourself why you act the way you do. Is it past trauma? Was it a bad experience in therapy before? Understanding your own resistance is part of the work. Then, take that knowledge into the session.

These are just my personal thoughts, of course. I’m not a licensed professional. But I’ve been in therapy for most of my life, and through my own research, I’ve learned a thing or two.

Emotional intelligence, emotional literacy, and emotional agility are all connected. But each has a distinct role in how we understand and manage our emotions.

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In today’s episode, enriched with insights from experts and real-life stories, we explored how mastering our emotions can enhance our lives. This deep dive showed that understanding and managing emotions is not just beneficial, it is essential for personal growth and building stronger relationships.

We’ve seen how emotional intelligence plays a major role in our everyday lives. From individuals like Shou Chew, who remain composed under pressure, to navigating emotions during general conflicts, or confronting personal challenges, it is clear that emotional intelligence, literacy, and agility shape our well-being and relationships. These skills help us manage life’s highs and lows with greater resilience and grace.

By recognizing and understanding our emotions, we move closer to genuine self-awareness. This journey not only improves our own lives, it also contributes to building a more empathetic and emotionally connected world.

Thank you so much for listening. If you have a topic you’d like me to speak on, a person who you think I should interview on the show, or if you have a story you’d like to share, feel free to e-mail us at hello@delcalife.com, thats hello@delcalife.com. Follow us on Instagram and TikTok at DELCALIFE. All of the information shared in the DELCÂ podcast is based on opinion and/or facts. Until next time!

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