I do my best thinking while I’m running. I’m not a fast runner, but I love the meditative rhythm of my steps. I solve problems and mull questions and thoughts that my schedule doesn’t always allow me to ponder throughout the day. On a run last weekend, I was thinking about phrases we say that cover how we really feel. I’m busy is one of them; that phrase gets a lot of criticism as a cover up for real life or for creating a contest of busy-ness in our fast-paced lives. It’s a phrase I’ve been trying not to use when I’m asked how I am (in part because of this New York Times article called The Busy Trap).
But the other phrase I was thinking of that gets a lot less attention? I’m fine. We say I’m fine and it’s fine and everything’s fine so often. It’s another cover up statement we use all the time. Husbands are generally taught that I’m fine means exactly the opposite, but we still say it often. Sometimes we mean it and sometimes it’s just wishful thinking.
The last year or two was hard for Michael and I in ways I’m not prepared to write about yet. Hopefully soon, but not quite yet. Through the ups and downs of the last few years, I had a lot of conversations with friends and family where I was able to talk about how down I was feeling, but at the same time I was fighting for those people to think that I was still fine. It’s as though saying I’m fine meant I was somehow still holding things together. Things are falling apart, but I’m fine, don’t worry about me, really.
The more I said I’m fine, the less fine I actually was. Looking back, I’m not sure anyone even believed me. The more work I put into being fine, the less I was holding it together. I’m the doer and the go-getter, that’s my identity in my family and among my friends. Being so vulnerable to say I’m not fine, even with my closest friends and family, was terrifying. There’s a certain amount of pride and fear tangled up when you’re clutching to I’m fine with all your might.
It was only recently, when I heard another friend saying those same empty words to me that I could hear how fearful I’m fine sometimes is. I could also hear myself saying to her It’s okay to not be fine. It’s okay to say this stinks and you need someone else’s help. And then it clicked for me.
It’s okay to not be fine. Your friends and family won’t run away, in fact, they’ll probably scoop you up and help you put it back together again. And they won’t judge you for falling apart. It simply means you’re human.
So I’m adding I’m fine to my list of phrases to avoid, unless I really, truly mean it. So far, I’ve found it’s very freeing. I hope you’ll join me. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this whole topic, I think I might not be the only one who feels this way.
14 Comments
This is lovely Emily, and something really important to remind ourselves. I’m very guilty of being ‘fine’ as I’ve had to play the role of being the strong one in my family. Looking back at times I really needed help and comforting, I think I pushed everyone away by being ‘fine’. It’s very hard to be vulnerable, but we need to be in order to let people in and help us heal. Of course, it’s a hard cycle to break.
I understand completely since I have been saying “I’m fine” throughout my adult life when the opposite is so often the truth. I am praying for you and thinking of you daily. Opening up is sometimes the most difficult challenge, but it is the only way to find support. Sending you love.
Likewise, Mary Cath. I completely agree – it’s hard to be vulnerable but worth it in the long run. Thinking of you too, always! xx
Wise words Emily. It’s worth reminding us it’s OK to be not fine. There is phrase, that says when you share a sadness with a friend you divide them into half, when you share happiness you multiply it by two.
I hope you are better now. Take good care of yourself
Thank you so much, Magda. Kind of a hard but good lesson to learn.
I love you, Em!
Love you too, Greta 🙂 xx
This is such a beautiful post. I am also a member of the “I’m fine” club and guilty of using this phrase all too often. This is a great reminder that I am not alone in this and that if I can be more vulnerable in my relationships then it may open the door for my friends and family to be more honest and vulnerable with me. Reading your posts and following you on Facebook makes me realize how much I miss you! I want you to know that I think of you often and am in awe of the wonderful life you have created for yourself. If you ever need someone to listen or run crazy ideas by (because I know I have so many of them myself) I would love to talk. Much love from Minnesota!
I actually felt quite emotional reading this, we try so hard to be the person we think everyone wants us to be ,we are perceived in so many different ways .I have many friends and family who from time to time are not Fine and talking is the one thing that always helps, but like you say its hard to reach out and ask sometimes because I think we fear we will no longer be seen as us ! but of course were still “us” we just need a bit more loving ,listening, caring ,understanding or whatever it is to get us through the not so fine days. Hang on in there, even by sharing this post you have made it easier for someone else to say I’m not so fine either .I love a little book called “Don’t sweat the small stuff” by Richard Carlson , I have bought it for a good few people , its my go to book on those days when its not so fine!x
I completely empathise with you Emily – sometimes we push people away and try and hide our feelings in an attempt to appear strong, both to others and ourselves. We assume that if we reveal how we are really feeling, it is a sign of weakness. However, such an assumption could not be more wrong, and owning up to how we truly feel is the ultimate display of strength. It is such a hard thing to do, but I am going to join you in trying to avoid saying ‘I’m fine’ – us Irish gals gotta stick together! x
Love your thoughts and I love what everyone else has shared! These are all such good reminders. Hope things are looking up and if they’re not yet, that’s ok. 🙂
Beautiful post. I so admire your honesty, and am sending you giant internet hugs – not quite as good as real ones, I know! See you soon, x.
You’re definitely not the only one, Emily. I can so strongly and deeply relate to what you’re saying.
I think it takes real bravery to allow yourself to be vulnerable.
I respect your honesty and true insight.
Thank you for sharing. xx
Just lovely.