I’ve often found myself navigating a delicate equilibrium between reality and comfort. Whenever they ask me, "Are you okay?" "I’m fine" has become my shield—a simple response that shields others from the weight of my problems. It’s a narrative in which honesty meets protection, and my smile conceals the storm that’s boiling inside.
As we navigate life's twisting roads, many of us simply go for this coping method, believing that by concealing our inner pain, we ease others from the burden of our struggles. Like a silent actor on life's stage, I play my role well, reassuring others with "I'm fine" to ease their concerns. Yet beneath this facade lies a poignant truth—that sometimes the bravest faces hide the deepest scars.
“ if i can still breathe,
i’m fine. ”
All the time, I find myself responding, "I’m fine," to the people around me. It’s become a reflex, a technique to keep things simple while avoiding the complexity of my feelings and thoughts. But maybe someday, things will be different. Maybe someday I won’t be forced to lie about how I feel.
I envision a moment when the people in my life will hear and understand me without me having to say anything. It’s not that I don’t want to talk or share; it’s simply that there’s a big difference between speaking and being understood. Words can often feel like they are not enough, unable to convey the weight of how I feel. I want a connection that goes beyond words, where empathy and understanding can be sensed in the silence, the subtleties of presence, and shared experiences.
I envision a day when somebody will glance into my eyes and see the truth behind the outer appearance, when they will notice the smallest details—a slight uncertainty, a fleeting expression—and understand exactly what I am trying to say. It's not about being mysterious or enigmatic; it's about feeling fully understood without having to explain every detail.
Through the process, I’ve realized that being vulnerable is not a sign of weakness but rather evidence of the deep depths of human feeling. Each "I’m fine," echoes a silent plea: to be heard and understood without words, to be embraced without judgment.
Until then, I will still continue to say "I’m fine," but I hold onto the hope that someday those around me will understand the deeper layers of my being without the need for words. It’s a quiet hope, but it’s there, growing stronger with each passing day.
