The Weight of Being Fine
Saying "fine" is often a reflex, not a choice. The body answers before the mind gets a vote.
The pattern sticks because it works: It ends scrutiny and hands the conversation back, fast.
"Fine" isn't usually a lie. It's a placeholder for something we haven't had words for yet.
Healing doesn't mean we stop saying "fine" forever; it's not needing it to be true every single time.
Amid the clanging dishes and the chorus of chatter, two friends are seated in a busy restaurant. Once they settle into their seats, quickly glance at the happy hour menu, and acknowledge that it has in fact been "too long" since they last caught up, there is a pregnant pause, a tension in the air. One friend leans in, makes eye contact, and asks, "So, how are you?" Such a simple question, but the weight of the inquiry lands on the other like a burden. The recipient of the question immediately starts to translate her active thoughts into a more digestible answer, searching for one that is both tactful and appropriate for the atmosphere. She forces a smile and replies, "I'm fine. How are you?"
The strange part is, she didn't make a conscious decision to say it. Somewhere between the question landing and her response, "fine" seemed to arrive on its own. She recognizes that she replied before she even had a chance to ask herself if it was true.
For many of us, being "fine" isn't a conscious choice so much as a........
