Your Mood Is Contagious: The Emotional Discipline of Leadership

There are days I feel unstoppable. I’m in the zone, I’m creative, I’m solving problems fast, and I’m genuinely enjoying the work. Then I run into a negative Nelly. You know the type. Nothing’s ever going to work, everything is harder than it needs to be, and the default setting is skepticism. If I’m not careful, that energy can pull me straight down the rabbit hole. 

Earlier in my career, I let that happen. I’d absorb the mood, rehearse the frustration, and carry it into the next meeting, the next conversation, the next decision. I didn’t have the awareness or the tools to stop it, and honestly, I didn’t understand the cost. 

But leadership changes the math. I don’t just lead a marketing agency. I also lead a BNI region with several hundred members. That means my emotional state doesn’t stay “personal.” It shows up in my employees’ momentum, my clients’ confidence, my members’ belief in what they’re building, and the way business owners interpret their own challenges. 

Whether I intend to or not, I set a tone. And tone becomes culture. Culture becomes behavior. Behavior becomes results.

Emotional discipline is not emotional denial

This is where emotional discipline comes in. Not emotional denial. Not pretending everything is fine. Discipline. Because authenticity is my number one core value. I will never be interested in being the leader who performs positivity while secretly spiraling inside. That kind of “leadership” eventually leaks out anyway, and it teaches everyone around you to do the same fake dance. 

So the question becomes: how do you stay honest about how you’re feeling without dropping your mood on other people like it’s their responsibility to carry it?

Emotions are information, not instructions

Here’s what I’ve learned the hard way. Emotions are information, not instructions. Feeling discouraged doesn’t mean I should cancel the day. Feeling irritated doesn’t mean someone deserves the sharp version of me. Feeling anxious doesn’t mean I should make a rushed decision to relieve the discomfort. My job as a leader is to notice the emotion, name it, and then decide what happens next. Leadership is often the skill of creating a pause between stimulus and response.

Be honest without creating instability

That pause starts with being able to tell the truth in a way that doesn’t create instability. There’s a big difference between “I’m feeling off today, so I’m going to take a beat and then we’ll tackle this” and “Everything is a mess and I don’t know what we’re doing.” Both are honest. Only one is responsible. One communicates self-awareness and steadiness. The other hands your nervous system to everyone else in the room.

Share the state, not the storm

A simple framework that helps me is this: share the state, not the storm. The state is a sentence. The storm is a spiral. The state is “I’m not at my best today and I’m going to reset before we continue.” The storm is the full internal monologue, the assumptions, the catastrophizing, the story about what this means about the future. People don’t need the storm. They need the leader.

My go-to reset: a walk (and why it works)

One of my biggest tools is going for a walk. It sounds too simple to matter, but it matters because it changes my body first. When I walk, I’m moving stress out of my system instead of spreading it around. I’ve taught my staff to do the same thing, and I’m proud of that because it normalizes regulation as a leadership skill, not a personal quirk. If someone can take ten minutes, move their body, breathe, and come back clearer, that’s not time wasted. That’s leadership behavior in action.

Other tools that help me regulate without pretending

There are a few other tools that work for me and for the leaders I respect, because they don’t rely on pretending. They rely on regulating. One is naming the trigger, privately and quickly. When I meet a negative Nelly and I feel the drop, I try to label it in real time: This is contagion. This is someone else’s lens. This is not a prophecy. That label matters because it separates my identity from the moment. It stops the spiral from becoming my inner truth. Another is choosing one trustworthy person for the raw version. Every leader needs a place where they can be fully honest without splashing it on the people who are counting on them to stay steady. That might be a coach, a therapist, a mentor, or a grounded friend who doesn’t feed drama. Leadership requires containment. Not suppression. Containment. Having a place to process so you don’t process on your team.

Boundaries with chronic negativity protect everyone

A third is setting boundaries with chronic negativity. This is the part people avoid because it feels confrontational, but it’s actually an act of care for everyone involved. If someone consistently brings problems without ownership, complaints without solutions, or stress without responsibility, you don’t have to absorb it. You can redirect it. Ask better questions. What have you tried? What do you need from me, specifically? What’s your proposed solution? What’s within your control? Those questions don’t just protect your energy. They coach the other person out of helplessness. If they can’t or won’t shift, then the boundary becomes about access. Not everyone gets the same level of proximity to the leader’s attention.

Use decision rules so your mood doesn’t run the business

Another tool is using decision rules instead of decision moods. When I’m activated, my brain wants certainty, speed, and control. That is the worst time to make big calls. A decision rule is a pre-commitment that protects the team from my temporary state. For example: I don’t make major staffing decisions on a bad day. I don’t send hard emails when I’m heated. I don’t rewrite a strategy because one person had a rough opinion. I capture the issue, I give it 24 hours, and I come back with a clearer head. That’s not avoidance. That’s maturity.

Truth vs tone: you can be direct without spreading dread

And finally, there’s the practice of separating truth from tone. You can address real issues without broadcasting dread. You can be candid without being heavy. You can be firm without being sharp. The way you say something teaches people what to feel about it. Leaders often underestimate that. I can say, “We’ve got a problem,” and watch the room contract. Or I can say, “We found the problem, which means we can fix it,” and watch the room stay engaged. Same truth. Different tone. Different outcome.

The bigger impact is why this matters

The reason this matters to me is bigger than my own emotional comfort. I don’t just influence my staff. I influence clients who are trying to grow. I influence members who are building relationships, revenue, and confidence. I influence business owners who are already carrying enough. 

If I let one negative interaction hijack me, I risk passing that weight down the line. 

So here’s what I aim for, and what I’d encourage any leader reading this to aim for too: be authentic, but be regulated. Tell the truth, but don’t transfer the turbulence. Own your resets. Teach your people how to reset. Protect your culture from chronic negativity, and be honest about what you need to stay steady. 

Because your mood is contagious, whether you like it or not. The discipline is deciding what you’re spreading.