top of page

The Myth of How to be fine



Let’s break down one of the biggest myths we cling to like a bad habit:“I’m fine.”

Oh, friend. No, you’re not. You're tired. You're stretched. You're one toddler tantrum, command call, or burnt dinner away from losing your ever-loving mind.


But still, we smile, grit our teeth, and say it anyway.“I’m fine.”

 

Let me tell you what my “fine” has looked like:

  • Fine is when my husband said he was going golfing while I had a gazillion things to do and needed his help, and I smiled (read: clenched my jaw) and said, “Fine.”There is no way on this green earth that my fine meant his fine.

  • Fine is code for I’m doing everything, holding it all together, and resenting the hell out of it, but I’ll die before I admit I need help.

  • Fine is sleeping with one eye open because trauma taught you that safety is a privilege, not a guarantee.


 


“Fine” is survival mode in Spanx.



 

"Fine" is the socially acceptable way to say:

“Don’t ask. Don’t dig. Don’t look too close.”

And while I get it—especially for my military spouses, first responders, caretakers, and high-functioning warriors—here’s the truth:

“Fine” is not a feeling. It’s a shutdown.“Fine” is emotional constipation masquerading as emotional control.

So, what’s the cost?

When we wear “fine” like armor, we lose connection.We lose honesty.We lose ourselves.

You start believing you should be fine. That needing rest, help, space, or—God forbid—boundaries makes you weak. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.


 

Let’s redefine what strength really looks like:

  • Strength is saying, “I’m not okay right now.”

  • Strength is asking for help without shame.

  • Strength is telling your partner, “No, babe. ‘Fine’ meant ‘Hell no, I needed you and I’m drowning.’ Let’s run that back.”

Need help naming what’s under your fine? Start with this blog on terminal uniqueness—because you’re not the only one pretending.


 

Here’s your permission slip:

You don’t have to be fine to be loved. You don’t have to be fine to be respected. You don’t have to be fine to be enough.


We don’t heal by faking it till we make it. We heal by feeling it, naming it, and then letting safe people hold it with us.


And if you don’t have those people yet?



At Appalachian Counseling Center, we sit with the not fine. We honor the truth beneath the surface.We help you make sense of life’s messes—and rewrite the dadgum script.


So next time someone asks how you are, try this instead: “I’m messy. I’m tired. But I’m still showing up.”


Because that is real. That is brave. That is you.


Be you. Do you. The rest will follow. And to all the golf-playing spouses and clueless coworkers out there? Darn them all—but with grace.


 

Dr. Jude Black is a clinical trauma psychotherapist, founder of Appalachian Counseling Center, and your go-to truth-teller when the shame gremlins start whispering that no one could possibly understand your mess. A 30+ year military spouse with 19 moves under her belt and enough war stories to fill a vault, she’s made a career out of helping people realize they’re not broken—they’re just human. Dr. Jude believes your story is sacred, your pain is valid, and your healing begins the moment you stop pretending you're the exception.You’re not terminally unique. You’re fiercely original—and that’s enough.



Comments


bottom of page