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Last week, I watched myself do exactly what I swore I’d never do again.
My friend called me sobbing about her recent breakup, and within ten minutes, I’d already launched into my own relationship disaster from three years ago. “I know exactly how you feel,” I said, before spending the next five minutes talking about my ex instead of listening to her pain.
I hung up feeling helpful. She texted later saying she needed some space. That’s when it hit me: I’d made her crisis about me, again.
We all want to be the friend who shows up when life gets messy. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: most of us accidentally make things worse, especially when we’re trying our hardest to help.
The difference between those with high emotional intelligence and the rest of us isn’t that they care more. It’s that they’ve learned what not to do.
1) They never immediately share their own similar story
When someone tells you their parent is sick, your first instinct might be to share about when your dad had surgery. Stop right there. This isn’t bonding; it’s hijacking.
I learned this the hard way when a colleague confided about her miscarriage. I immediately jumped in with my cousin’s similar experience, thinking I was showing empathy. Her face fell. She needed to be heard, not to hear about someone else.
Emotionally intelligent people understand that someone else’s pain isn’t an invitation to share yours. They sit with the discomfort of just listening, even when every fiber of their being wants to relate through their own experiences.
2) They never minimize with toxic positivity
“At least you still have your health!” “Everything happens for a reason!” “Look on the bright side!”
These phrases feel supportive in our heads but land like dismissals in reality. When my friend lost her job last year, everyone kept telling her it was “probably for the best” and “a blessing in disguise.” She later told me those comments made her feel like she wasn’t allowed to be upset about losing her income and health insurance.
People with high emotional intelligence know that sometimes life just sucks, and that’s okay to acknowledge. They don’t rush to silver linings or hidden blessings. They let the storm be a storm.
3) They never offer unsolicited advice
Have you ever noticed how quickly we transform into life coaches when someone shares a problem? Your friend mentions their partner forgot their anniversary, and suddenly you’re outlining a five-step communication plan they never asked for.
This one particularly stings for me. My tendency to analyze everything means I often see solutions everywhere, even when no one’s looking for them. My partner finally had to tell me point-blank: “Sometimes I just need you to say ‘that sucks’ instead of creating a spreadsheet to fix it.”
Emotionally intelligent people wait to be asked before offering solutions. They understand that most people already know what they should do; they just need someone to witness their struggle first.
4) They never make it about their discomfort
“I can’t handle seeing you like this.” “This is too heavy for me right now.” “You’re bringing me down.”
When someone we care about suffers, their pain makes us uncomfortable. But expressing that discomfort to them adds to their burden. They’re already dealing with their crisis; now they have to manage your feelings about it too.
A friend once told me she stopped sharing her anxiety struggles with certain people because they’d get so visibly distressed that she’d end up comforting them instead. Imagine that: being in crisis and having to reassure others that you’ll be okay so they feel better.
5) They never ghost or pull away without explanation
Sometimes supporting someone through difficulty becomes overwhelming. That’s human. But what emotionally intelligent people never do is simply disappear.
I’ve been on both sides of this. When anxiety hit me hard in my twenties, several friends just faded away without a word. Years later, I did the same thing to someone else when their constant crisis calls became too much. Neither approach helped anyone.
If you need boundaries, say so. “I care about you, but I need to take a step back for my own mental health” is infinitely better than leaving someone wondering why you vanished when they needed you most.
6) They never compete for who has it worse
“You think that’s bad? Let me tell you about my week…”
We’ve all met the person who turns every conversation into the Suffering Olympics. Your bad day can’t just be bad; it has to be measured against theirs. This isn’t empathy; it’s ego.
I had a friendship end over this pattern. Every struggle I shared was met with a bigger, worse story from her side. Lost a client? She lost three. Stressed about deadlines? She hadn’t slept in days. It was exhausting, and it meant I eventually stopped sharing anything real with her at all.
7) They never pressure them to “move on” faster
“It’s been three months; you need to get over this.” “You can’t wallow forever.” “Time to move forward.”
Grief, heartbreak, and trauma don’t follow calendars. Emotionally intelligent people understand that healing happens on its own timeline, not yours.
When my college best friend and I drifted apart, well-meaning people kept telling me it had been “long enough” to be sad about it. But that friendship had shaped nearly a decade of my life. There’s no expiration date on processing that kind of loss.
8) They never break confidence
This might seem obvious, but it’s shocking how often we share someone’s struggles under the guise of “concern” or “seeking advice.” “I’m worried about Sarah” becomes gossip faster than we realize.
Your friend’s divorce isn’t your story to tell, even to your partner. Their mental health struggles aren’t conversation starters at dinner parties. When someone trusts you with their pain, that trust is sacred.
Final thoughts
Being truly supportive isn’t about having the right words or knowing how to fix everything. It’s about showing up without making it about you, sitting with discomfort without trying to chase it away, and holding space for someone else’s pain without judgment.
The most emotionally intelligent response to someone’s crisis is often the simplest: “This sounds really hard. How can I support you right now?”
We won’t get it right every time. I certainly don’t. But awareness is the first step. Next time someone you care about is struggling, pause before you respond. Ask yourself: Is this about helping them or making myself feel better? The answer might change everything.