‘I’M FINE, THANKS’
‘'I'm fine, thanks.'
I've said that so many times without really meaning it, and I bet you have too.
In my latest blog, I talk about that exact habit, the one where "fine" comes out before you've even thought about it, automatic, easy, like a nod, and what actually changes, even physically, the moment you say the true thing instead.
In this Article:
‘I’m fine, thanks’
I've said it a thousand times. You probably have too.
No one expects more when they ask, 'how are you?' It's not really a question, not in any genuine sense.
And when I feel stressed and busy, I've done the same thing myself, asked someone how they are, and barely taken in the answer.
I've known this for a while, but it still strikes me every time. We spend our days around other people, and most of us still feel completely unheard.
What this actually is
Saying you're fine, thanks isn't really a lie. It's more like a habit, a simple phrase that helps keep things going without asking anyone to really stop and hear you.
We do this for reasons that seem reasonable. We don't want to be a burden. We think no one has time for the real answer, especially in a quick moment or passing conversation.
Over time, we've learned that being honest can make others uncomfortable, and we manage their comfort so often that we hardly notice it anymore.
So we say we're fine. We say we're getting by. The real answer, whatever it is, stays hidden.
What it costs
I hear from other women who are experiencing this.
One woman wrote to me about losing control of her life as her family quietly began deciding how much care she needed. "Maybe I do need more help, but I just don't like it." That's her honest answer. But what she says out loud to everyone else is just some version of I'm fine.
Another woman has spent several years by her husband's side during his cancer diagnosis. She told me she feels hopeful but worn out, and she's not sure who she is underneath it all anymore. If you asked her how she's doing, you'd never know any of this.
Neither of these women is alone. That's what stands out to me. They aren't isolated in the usual way. They're surrounded by people who care. But in the way that matters most, they are still feel completely alone with what they're feeling
That's the real cost. It's not loneliness because no one is there. It's loneliness because no one really knows what's going on inside.
What changes
I don't think the answer is to share your real feelings with everyone who asks how you are in the supermarket line. That's not what I'm suggesting, and it wouldn't be realistic.
But I do think something changes, even physically, when you say what's really true, just once, to someone who hears without trying to fix it or give advice. They just hear it, exactly as it is.
I've seen this happen. Someone finally shares the truth they've been hiding behind the 'I'm fine' force field, and the mood in the room changes. Even though it might be uncomfortable.
It's not dramatic, but it's enough. It feels like everyone can finally breathe when the real story is shared. Being heard, even for a moment, makes the worry and grief of the situation feel a little easier to carry.
Heard, Supported & Leaving with Clarity
When was the last time you answered "how are you" honestly? Not pretending, not trying to make someone else comfortable, just telling the truth?
If that question struck a chord with you, I host a small, live session called Heard, Supported, and Leaving with Clarity.
It’s a 90-minute online gathering with six women, designed for exactly this purpose.
You can find more information below:
Heard, Supported and Leaving with Clarity
Love,
Penelope 🌷
Closing Thoughts
If this blog resonated with you and you want to connect, comment below with a word or a story, or simply say 'here.'
There's more of this work available—free bi-weekly Ageing Honestly letters. And if you would like to find out more about the next Hear, Supported and Leaving with Clarity gathering , here’s the link: Heard, Supported and Leaving with Clarity.
Penelope Lane is a clinical psychologist, mindfulness teacher, and fitness and brain health trainer who helps women over 60 build whole strength—body, mind, heart, and soul. At 68 she's learned the hard way that staying alive isn't the same as feeling alive.
