Can we talk about "I'm fine"?

You know the drill. Someone asks how you're doing and before you've even thought about it, those two words are already out of your mouth.

I'm fine.

We need to talk about that.

Because I have said those words at the absolute worst moments of my life. Standing in the grocery store trying not to cry over nothing. Lying awake at 2am staring at the ceiling. Running on empty for so long I forgot what full even felt like. And still, I'm fine. Thanks for asking.

Here's what I've learned, both from living it and from my work as a counselor. "I'm fine" is almost never about lying. It's about survival. Our brains are incredibly good at helping us keep it together when falling apart doesn't feel like an option. The problem is that keeping it together for too long has a price.

So what does "not fine" actually look like?

It looks like being exhausted no matter how much you sleep. It looks like snapping at your kids over something tiny and then feeling terrible about it. It looks like headaches, stomach issues, and tension you carry in your shoulders like a second job. It looks like scrolling your phone for an hour because sitting alone with your thoughts sounds unbearable.

It looks completely normal from the outside. And that's exactly the point.

We have become so good at performing fine that we sometimes convince even ourselves. And meanwhile, whatever is actually going on just sits there quietly getting heavier.

Here's the thing about therapy that nobody tells you

It's not about someone fixing you. It's not about lying on a couch having a breakdown while a stranger takes notes. It's about finally having a space where you don't have to be fine. Where you can say the actual true answer to "how are you doing" and nobody flinches, nobody gets uncomfortable, and nobody needs you to wrap it up quickly because dinner's ready.

I believe that with everything in me. Because I've sat in that chair too, on both sides of the room. And the moment you stop performing fine for five whole minutes? That’s where things start to shift.

Psalm 34:18 says God is close to the brokenhearted. Not the put-together. Not the ones who have it figured out. The brokenhearted. I think there's something really freeing in that, if we let it be.

If you're somewhere in this today

I see you. The not-fine version of you isn’t broken. She's just been holding on really hard for a really long time. And she deserves some actual support.