Building Emotional Intelligence Through the Things That Break You
Pain is data. Here’s how to read it.
This week, I’m thrilled to share this guest post from Chris Parry, the writer behind Rewired. Chris has one of the most eye opening personal stories I’ve come across.
In this piece, he breaks down how the feelings we try hardest to avoid are often the exact ones that build our capacity, resilience, and clarity.
His story is raw, insightful, and full of lessons worth sitting with. I’m excited for you to read it.
Here’s Chris, in his own words.
I want to share something that took me far too long to figure out, but first, let me introduce myself.
I’m Chris and I write a self development publication on Substack called Rewired. In a nutshell, I help driven individuals upgrade their mindset & unlock their full potential. I also run a 7 figure hospitality recruitment business and somehow ended up representing my country in ultramarathon running. None of that was the plan. The plan was to numb my way through life with alcohol and hope nobody noticed I was falling apart inside.
That didn’t work out, fortunately.
What I’ve learnt since then has completely rewired how I think about emotions. I suspect it might land for you too.
Most people treat emotions as obstacles to overcome. Weakness to eliminate. Distractions from real work. I certainly did. But the discomfort you’re avoiding? That’s the exact data you need to develop capability. Emotions are the raw material growth is built from.
I learnt this through three phases: public failure I avoided for years, sobriety that forced me to process feelings as fuel, and ultramarathons that proved processing works better than avoidance ever did.
Let me take you through it.
When you mistake avoidance for strength
2015: Failed publicly on MasterChef: The Professionals. That moment carried massive emotional weight. Shame. Disappointment. That creeping fear of not being good enough.
Society tells you those feelings are weakness. That strong people push through discomfort without letting it affect them. So I avoided everything. Self-sabotage through alcohol became my strategy for the next six years. Feel uncomfortable? Numb it. Experience doubt? Escape it.
By 2021, I was emotionally bankrupt. I thought pushing feelings down was strength. Turns out it was sophisticated avoidance that compounded into collapse.
When difficulty forces the growth you were avoiding
December 2021: I chose sobriety. I wish I could tell you it was discipline. It was desperation. Avoidance had simply stopped working.
Sobriety removed my numbing mechanism. Every uncomfortable feeling I’d pushed down showed up at once. Quite the welcome party. But without the option to avoid, I discovered something that changed everything: emotions were information.
Anxiety showed me the gap between my actions and my values. Doubt highlighted where my identity didn’t match my aspirations. Fear signalled misalignment between comfort and growth.
Every emotion I’d been treating as an obstacle was actually a catalyst.
Seven days after getting sober, I ran my first 5K. I really wasn’t a running kind of guy. I needed to prove to myself I could process discomfort instead of avoiding it. That 5K nearly killed me. But I finished.
When you choose difficulty to accelerate growth
Seven days sober and I could barely complete a 5K. But running became the practice ground for what sobriety was teaching me. 5K became 10K. 10K became half marathon. Half marathons became marathons. Each distance taught me more about sitting with discomfort instead of running from it. (Ironic, I know.)
Then I discovered Backyard Ultras. And something in me said: that one.
The format: Every hour, on the hour, you run the same 4.167-mile loop. Miss the cutoff and you’re eliminated. Last person standing wins. Everyone else gets a DNF. You get a handful of minutes between loops to collapse, eat, drink, then drag yourself up and run again when the whistle blows on the hour.
The format strips away everything except your relationship with continuing when your entire system wants to quit. I chose this deliberately. I wanted to test whether emotional processing actually worked under sustained pressure. To find out if what sobriety taught me would hold when things got genuinely hard.
What progressive growth actually looks like
First attempt: 12 hours, 50 miles. Second: 16 hours, 66 miles. Third: 20 hours, 82 miles. Each attempt taught me the emotions showing up were information to use.
Fourth attempt: 24 hours, 100 miles. Everything clicked.
Mile 60, quads screaming: my body telling me to lean on mindset now. Process the information, adjust, continue.
Mile 75, watching faster runners glide past while I’m grinding: distraction from my own race. Their pace isn’t my business. Process the comparison, return to my rhythm, continue.
Mile 85, hallucinations kicking in at 4am, chatting to people who aren’t there, convinced the trees are following me: fatigue playing tricks. Process what’s real, let the rest go, continue.
Mile 95, every system begging to stop: temporary discomfort my body can handle. Process the difference between pain and damage, keep moving.
Mile 100, done. Twenty-four hours of running. Qualification to represent my country at the highest level, achieved.
Every difficult moment carried one anchor: None of this comes close to 2021. Physical pain lasts hours. Emotional bankruptcy lasted years. I’ll take the hours.
Why this matters for your life
You don’t need to run ultramarathons. You don’t need to get sober. You don’t need my specific brand of difficulties.
Emotional processing is the foundation of sustained performance in any domain where pressure compounds. Which is most domains worth being in.
The entrepreneur hitting walls despite perfect strategy? Unprocessed fear making decisions. The parent losing patience despite loving their kids? Accumulated stress from avoiding feelings all day finally breaking through. The professional struggling with imposter syndrome despite clear competence? Doubt they’ve been fighting instead of interpreting.
Same mechanism. Different arena.
What processing actually looks like
Simple to understand. Hard to do.
Recognition: “I’m feeling fear about this decision.”
Interpretation: “This fear signals the stakes are high.”
Response: “High stakes require thorough preparation then committed action.”
Release: “I’ve processed this, now I move forward.”
The format changes depending on your life. The principle holds.
What your emotions are actually teaching you
I wish someone had told me this years ago: Every emotion you’re avoiding is trying to build capacity you’re lacking.
Fear shows you where courage needs to develop. Understand what it’s protecting and choose growth anyway.
Doubt reveals where competence needs to expand. Recognise the gap between current capability and attempted action, then build the bridge.
Shame highlights where integrity needs strengthening. Process the gap between your values and actions, then close it.
Comparison exposes where focus needs redirecting. Recognise distraction and return to your own process.
Every feeling you’re treating as weakness is the catalyst for developing strength. But only if you process it.
The choice in front of you
You build emotional intelligence through experiences difficult enough that avoidance stops working and processing becomes the only option left.
MasterChef rejection could have taught me this in 2015. I chose avoidance instead and paid for it until 2021. Sobriety forced what failure didn’t. Running proved what sobriety taught.
Your hardest experiences are building the emotional infrastructure that makes achievement possible when pressure sustains.
Treat emotions as weakness and you’ll keep hitting the same walls. Treat them as catalysts and they’ll show you exactly where growth needs to happen.
Process them. Don’t avoid them.
Thank you for reading, and a huge thank you to Ilham for inviting me to write this guest post. I sincerely hope it provides you with some valuable insight.
To your growth.
Chris
Which part of Chris’s story spoke to you most? Tell us in the comments!






